Sonnet - Ii Poem by Anne MacVicar Grant

ALL hail! ye frowning terrors of my way,
Rude Grampian mountains! crown'd with lasting snow,
No flow'ry vales, or plains with verdure gay,
Could bid my soul with purer joy o'erflow.
Barriers of holy freedom! your stern brow
With guardian frown o'erlooks her last retreat,
When tyrant rapine roam'd the plains below,
Among your winding glens she found a seat
Beyond those dark defiles, thy narrow vale,
Green Laggan! soon shall cheer my weary sight.
Young voices sounding on the mountain gale,
Shall fill this anxious bosom with delight,
While ruddy innocence with raptur'd smile
Shall cling to this fond heart, by absence torn erewhile!