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 'Come Back! come back!' he cried in grief, 'Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!—Oh! my daughter!'

Twas vain! the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing: The waters wild went o'er his child— And he was left lamenting. Campbell.

', Macgregor, remember our foemen, The moon rises broad from the brow of Ben-Lomond, The clans are impatient, and chide thy delay: Arise! let us bound to Glen-Lyon away.'

Stern scowl'd the Macgregor, then silent and sullen, He turn'd his red eye to the braes of Strathfillan; 'Go, Malcolm, to sleep, let the clans be dismiss'd The Campbells this night for Macgregor must rest.'

'Macgregor, Macgregor, our scouts have been flying, Three days, round the hills of M'Nab and GlenLyon; Of riding and running such tidings they bear, We must meet them at home else they'll quickly be here.'