The Rings of Jupiter -

Poem by Lord Byron. Away ye grey landscapes, ye gardens o' roses In you let the minions of luxury rove And restore me the rocks where the snowflake reposes If still they are sacred to freedom and love Brave Caledonia, dear are thy mountains Round their white summits though elements war Though cataracts roar 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains I sigh for the valley o' dark Lochnagar Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wandered My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid On chieftains departed my memory lingered As daily I strayed through the pine-covered glade I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays o' the bright polar star My fancy was cheered by the bold martial story As told by the sons o' dark Lochnagar Years have rolled on, Lochnagar, since I left you Years must roll on ere I see you again Though Nature of verdure and flowers bereft you Yet still art thou dearer than Albion's plain England! thy beauties are tame and domestic To one who has roved on the mountains afar Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic The steep frowning glories o' wild Lochnagar Brave Caledonia, dear are thy mountains I sigh for the valley o' dark Lochnagar Ill-starred now the brave, did no vision foreboding Tell you that fate had forsaken our cause? Yet were you destined to die at Culloden Though victory crowned not your fall with applause Yet were you happy in death's earthly slumber To sleep wi' your clan in the caves of Braemar The pibroch resounds to the piper's loud number Your deeds to the echoes of wild Lochnagar Brave Caledonia, dear are thy mountains I sigh for the valley o' dark Lochnagar