Come hither, Evan Cameron,
Come, stand beside my knee--
I hear the river roaring down
Towards the wintry sea.
There's shouting on the mountain side,
There's war within the blast--
Old faces look upon me,
Old forms go trooping past.
I hear the pibroch wailing
Amidst the din of fight,
And my old spirit wakes again
Upon the verge of night!