Tune, Neil Gow's lament for Abercairny

Where braving angry Winter's storms
The lofty Ochels rise,
Far in their shade, my Peggy's charms
First blest my wondering eyes. —

As one who by some savage stream
A lonely gem surveys,
Astonish'd doubly marks it beam
With art's most polish'd blaze. —

Blest be the wild, sequester'd glade
And blest the day and hour,
Where Peggy's charms I first survey'd,
When first I felt their pow'r. —

The tyrant Death with grim controul
May seize my fleeting breath,
But tearing Peggy from my soul
Must be a stronger death. —