by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Translation by Anne Grant (1755 - 1838)

Cro Challin
Language: English  after the Scots Gaelic 
My Colin, lov'd Colin, my Colin, my dear,
Who wont the wild mountains to trace without fear;
O where are thy flocks, that so swiftly rebound,
And fly o'er the heath without touching the ground?
O were I as fleet as the wings of the wind,
In chace of the roes when springing, Love,
At the sound of your voice I wou'd loiter behind,
So sweet is the charm of your singing, Love.
I heard it, I fear'd it, I knew that soft charm
Wou'd slacken my speed, and enervate my arm;
The deer, drawing near, now no more in alarm,
Through brakes in the woods are springing, Love.

J. Haydn sets lines 1-4 in (at least) one setting - see below for more information

Note: Cro Challin = Cattle of Colin


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Researcher for this text: Ferdinando Albeggiani

This text was added to the website: 2009-07-05
Line count: 12
Word count: 109