After months of festivals and distractions, with the sun shining while autumn is in the air, it feels like time for our focus to come back to our map of Scotland. We'll soon be adding more poems to the map but meantime here's an extract from a poem by Sir Walter Scott suggested by Mark Stockdale, and the last line is perhaps not inappropriate thinking about all the poems yet to be added to the map and posted here....
Lord of the Isles
On fair Loch Ranza streamed the early day,
Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are upward curled
From the lone hamlet, which her inland bay
And circling mountains sever from the world.
And there the fisherman his sale unfurled,
The goatherd drove his kids to steep Ben-ghoil,
Before the hut the dame her spindle twirled,
Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil, -
For, wake, where’er he may, man wakes to care and toil.
Sir Walter Scott
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