“The wind for his watcher, the mist for his shourd,
Where the green and grey moss will weave their wild tartans
A covering meet for a chieftain so proud.
For, free as the eagle, these rock were his eyrie,
And free as the eagle his spirit shall soar
O’er the crags and the corries that erst knew the footfall
Of Donald the hunter, Madgillian More.”
An extract from Lament for Maclean of Ardgour