Page:Songs of the Road Doyle.djvu/147

Rh This was our limit, for next day

We turned upon our homeward way,

Passing first Culloden's plain

Where the tombstones of the slain

Loom above the purple heather.

There the clansmen lie together—

Men from many an outland skerry,

Men from Athol and Glengarry,

Camerons from wild Mamore,

MacDonalds from the Irish Shore,

Red MacGregors and McLeods

With their tartans for their shrouds,

Menzies, Malcolms from the islands,

Frasers from the upper Highlands—

Callous is the passer by

Who can turn without a sigh

From the tufts of heather deep

Where the noble clansmen sleep.