TO PROFESSOR JOHN STUART BLACKIE.

A LOCHABER LILT.

A health to thee, Stuart Blackie! (I drink it in mountain dew) With all the kindliest greetings Of a heart that is leal and true. Let happen what happen may With others, by land or sea; For me, I vow if I drink at all, I'll drink a health to thee.

A health to thee, Stuart Blackie! A man of men art thou, With thy lightsome step and form erect, And thy broad and open brow; With thy eagle eye and ringing voice (Which yet can be soft and kind), As wrapped in thy plaid thou passest by With thy white locks in the wind!

I greet thee as poet and scholar; I greet thee as wise and good; I greet thee ever lord of thyself— No heritage mean, by the rood! I greet thee and hold thee in honour, That thou bendest to no man's nod— Amidst the din of a world of sin, Still lifting thine eye to God!

Go, search me the world and find me; Go, find me if you can, From the distant Farœs with their mists and snows, To the green-clad Isle of Man; From John O' Groats to Maidenkirk, From far Poolewe to Prague— Go, find me a better or wiser man Than the Laird of Altnacraig.

Now, here's to the honest and leal and true, And here's to the learned and wise, And to all who love our Highland glens And our Bens that kiss the skies; And here's to the native Celtic race, And to each bright-eyed Celtic fair; And here's to the Chief of Altnacraig— And hurrah! for the Celtic Chair!

Nether-Lochaber.