Pipes of Glengarry
Pipes of Glengarry
Tears fall under the rising of a Scottish moon
as lasses line the streets for the coming doom
while highlanders march off to the conflict end
distant to the Glen from the Garry River bend.
A glint of sun now appears upon crimson sash
Gaelic's dressed in tartan red
white and black
with basket-hilt broadswords next to their thighs
as the bonny pipes play their bellowing death cry.
I must now go my sweet love I must go you see
I must now join with them
the Clan Mac Donnelly
With my claymore in hand
onto the battlefield
I will fight the Mackenzie's with sword and shield.
If I fall at Morar on this day
my final thought is the love you gave
I will cherish every moment we spent in our lover's twine
just knowing in my last seconds you were mine.
The Clan MacDonald now waits for me
I must go while my heart will allow me
the pipes will play for the land of Shome
which has always been our clan's home.
Much blood shall spill on this day
yet i will not ever run away
pray for my soul I ask of thee
as the pipe play on in Glengarry.
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Submitted on July 05, 2016
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:03 min read
- 2 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AXBCC XXXXX AXAXDD EXFF AABX EEAA |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,024 |
Words | 207 |
Stanzas | 6 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 5, 6, 4, 4, 4 |
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"Pipes of Glengarry" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 Oct. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/81845/pipes-of-glengarry>.
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