The Shades of eve had crossed the glen
  That frowns o’er infant Avonmore,
When, nigh Loch Dan, two weary men,
  We stopped before a cottage door.

“God save all here,” my comrade cries,
  And rattles on the raised latch-pin;
“God save you kindly,” quick replies
  A clear sweet voice, and asks us in.

We enter; from the wheel...