The Battle of Altimarlach

THE BATTLE OF ALTIMARLACH: A BALLAD. ‘Twas morn; from rustic cot and grange The cock’s shrill clarion rung: And fresh on every sweet wild flower The pearly dew-drop hung. Given up to thoughtless revelry, In Wick lay Sinclair’s band, When suddenly the cry arose, “Glenorchy’s close at hand!” For now the Campbell’s haughty chief The […]