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The Database of Ornament

                        With woven green branches
                            All of the quicken
                        The Bandruidh waveth
                            The soft Airs nigh.

    Come, air of the mountain, what news of the mountain,
    Does the green moss cling to the claw of the eagle ?

                                                                         THE MOUNTAIN AIR
    The green moss clings to the claw of the eagle.

    Come, air of the hill-slope, what news of the hill-slope,
    Does the red stag sniff at the coming of green?

                                                                         THE UPLAND AIR
    The red stag sniffs at the coming of green.

* The Bandruidh: literally, the Druidess; commonly, the Sorceress; poetically, the Green Lady, i.e. Spring:.



    Come, air of the comes, what news of the comes,
    Does the hart’s-tongue sprout where the waterfalls leap ?

                                                                         THE AIR OF THE CORRIES
    The hart’s-tongue sprouts where the waterfalls leap.

    Come, air of the pine-wood, what news of the forest,
    Do the seedlings stir in the needle-strewn mould?

                                                                         THE FOREST AIR
    The seedlings stir in the needle-strewn mould.

    Come, air of the braes, what news of the braes now,
    Do the curled young bracken unsheathe their green claws ?

                                                                         THE AIR OF THE BRAES
    The curled young bracken unsheathe their green claws.

    Come, air of the glen, what news of the birdeens,
    Is song on the birds yet, and leaves on the lime ?

                                                                         THE AIR OF THE GLEN
    Green song to the birds now, green leaves to the lime !



             THE BANDURUIDH
             My robe is of green,
                 My crown is of stars,
             The grass is the green
                 And the daisies the stars :
             O’er lochan and streamlet
                 My breath moveth sweet,
             Blue lochan so bonnie, brown burnie
                 So sweet.

             The song in my heart
                 Is the song of the birds,
             And the wind in my heart
                 Is the lowing of herds :
             The light in my eyes,
                 And the breath of my mouth,
             Are the clouds of Spring skies
                 And the sound of the South.

                                     THE AIRS
             Grass-green from thy mouth
             The sweet sound of the South !

                                                                                                 FIONA MACLEOD.


MLA citation:

Macleod, Fiona. “The Bandruidh.” The Evergreen: A Northern Seasonal, vol. 1, Spring 1895, pp. 99-100. Evergreen Digital Edition, edited by Lorraine Janzen Kooistra, 2016-2018. Yellow Nineties 2.0, Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities, 2019.