BY: Dougall MacGille glas MacGregor

In honour of John Dow MacPatrick MacGregor of Glenstrae (d. 1519)
His grandfather Malcolm referred to in the poem died in 1498
Translation from the Gaelic in 1862 by Reverend Thomas MacLauchlan

Bold as a prince is John in each gathering,
'T were long to sing his race's glory;
Of this there is no doubt 'mong men,
that he is the first of the race of kings.

MacGregor of the bravest deeds,
Is the boldest chief in any land;
Between his gold and the Saxon's spoil,
Well may he live in ease and peace...

White-toothed falcon of the three glens,
With whome we read the bravest deeds,
The boldest arm 'midst fight of clans,
Best of the chiefs of the race of kings.

When on MacPatrick of ruddy cheeks,
Wrath in battle's hour awaked,
The men who with him share the fight
Are never safe amidst its blows.

Grandson to Malcolm of bright eyes,
Whom none could leave but felt their loss,
The generous, gentle, shapely your,
The readiest hand when aught's to do.

The race of Gregor stand round John,
Not as a weak one is their blow;
The famous race without a fault,
Round him like a fence they stand.

Clan Gregor who show no fear,
Even when with the king they strive,
Though brave Gael may be the foe,
That they count of little weight.

Gael or Saxon are the same,
To these brave men of kingly race,
Sons of Gregor bold in fight
Bend not before the fiercest foe.

Created: Sunday, 19 October 1997, 8:00pm
Last Updated: Sunday, 19 October 1997, 8:00pm

Page Contents © 1997 by: Gael MacGregor  (UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED)

THIS PAGE was Sorta CREATED WITH:
HTML Writer  by Kris Nosack *and* used information, tips & silliness in:
The Complete Idiot's Guide to Creating an HTML Web Page (Second Edition)