TICONDEROGA: A LEGEND OF THE WEST HIGHLANDS.
This is the tale of the man
Who heard a word in the night
In the land of the heathery hills,
In the days of the feud and the fight.
By the sides of the rainy sea,
Where never a stranger came,
On the awful lips of the dead,
He heard the outlandish name.
It sang in his sleeping ears,
It hummed in his waking head:
The name—Ticonderoga,
The utterance of the dead.
I. THE SAYING OF THE NAME.
On the loch-sides of Appin,
When the mist blew from the sea,
A Stewart stood with a Cameron:
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