Ludwig van Beethoven — Lochnagar

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses In you let the minions of luxury rove Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes Though still they are sacred to freedom and love Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains Round their white summits the elements war Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar! Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you! Years must elapse ere I tread you again Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain England, thy beauties are tame and domestic To one who has roamed over mountains afar O! for the crags that are wild and majestic The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar