Explore "Lachin y Gair" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye garden of roses! / In you let the minions of luxury rove; / Restore me the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes, / Though still they are sacred to freedom and love: / Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, / Round their white summits though elements war; / Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, / I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr.
Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd; / My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; / On chieftains long perish'd my memory pondered, / As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade; / I sought not my home till the day's dying glory / Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; / For fancy was cheered by traditional story, / Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.