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Poetry of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Birds of Passage

A WRAITH IN THE MIST

"Sir, I should build me a fortification, if I
came to live here." --BOSWELL'S Johnson.

On the green little isle of Inchkenneth,
  Who is it that walks by the shore,
So gay with his Highland blue bonnet,
  So brave with his targe and claymore?

His form is the form of a giant,
  But his face wears an aspect of pain;
Can this be the Laird of Inchkenneth?
  Can this be Sir Allan McLean?

Ah, no!  It is only the Rambler,
  The Idler, who lives in Bolt Court,
And who says, were he Laird of Inchkenneth,
  He would wall himself round with a fort.