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GLENFINLAS,

OR

LORD RONALD'S CORONACH.*

The tradition, upon which the following stanzas are founded, runs thus : While two Highland hunters were passing the night in a solitary bathy, (a hut built for the purpose of hunting,) and making merry over their venison and whisky, one of them expressed a wish, that they had pretty lasses to complete their party. The words were scarcely uttered, when two beautiful young women, habited in green, entered the hut, dancing and singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the syren, who attached herself particularly to him, to leave the hut: The other remained, and suspicious of the fair seducers, continued to play upon a trump, or

# Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by the aged of the clan.

Jew's harp, some strain, consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by the fiend, into whose toils he had fallen. The place was from thence called, The Glen of the Green Women.

Glenfinlas is a tract of forest-ground, lying in the Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender, in Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now belongs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times of yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the Forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch-Katrine, and its romantic avenue called the Troshachs. Benledi, Benmore, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, and at no great distance from Glenfinlas. The river Teith passes Callender, and the Castle of Doune, and joins the Forth near Stirling. The pass of Lenny is immediately above Callender, and is the principal access to the Highlands from that town. Glenartney is a forest near Benvoirlich. The whole forms a sublime tract of Alpine scenery.

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GLENFINLAS,

OR

LORD RONALD'S CORONACH.

“ For them the viewless forms of air obey, Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair ;

They know what spirit brews the stormful day, And heartless oft, like moody madness, stare, To see the phantom train their secret work prepare.”

O HONE a rie'! O hone a rie'!*

The pride of Albin's line is o’er,
And fall’n Glenartney's stateliest tree;

We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!

* O hon a rie' signifies" Alas for the prince, or chief."

O, sprung from great Macgillianore,

The Chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,

How deadly thine unerring bow!

Well can the Saxon widows tell,

How, on the Teith's resounding shore, The boldest Lowland warriors fell,

As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But o'er his hills, on festal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane tree; While youths and maids the light strathspey

So nimbly danced with Highland glee !

Cheer'd by the strength of Ronald's shell,

E'en age forgot his tresses hoar ; But now the loud lament we swell,

O, ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!

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