Angus Cameron Robertson Poems

I have sailed in old tea-clippers,
Full rigged clippers, lofty, trim;
Bounding o'er the laughing waters
With the wind abaft the beam,
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Hail! Hail! to Lochiel; and to Lovat, all hail!
Brave Chiefs of the mountains who muster the Gael;
We thrill with delight at the tidings we hear,
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My mind goes back to the good old days,
When I looked on steam with scorn,
To the stormy days and heavy gales
We encountered off Cape Horn;
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Wild-frouded clouds fly 'neath a frowning heaven,
By roaring tempest toss'd and swiftly riven:
The lightning plays in awful blinding flashes:
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The sea, is right enough, I say,
When squalls blow o'er and things are still,
Wind, wind enough the sails to fill,
And we glide o'er a summer sea.
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After a long voyage
He danced and leapt for very joy,
Like some wild urchin with a toy
Dismissed from school, to romp and play,
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Long the sun hath gone to rest,
Dimmed is now the deepening west,
And the sky hath lost the hue
That the rich clouds o'er it threw.
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Our way lay thro' a wooded wild,
Where we picked up a straying child,
Who 'scaped the perils of the deep
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I love the sea when Neptune frowns,
And when a mighty gale sweeps down,
Lashing the waves to mountains high,
While leeward with a plaintive cry,
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