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"Riveting, exciting...Pamela Clare delivers what readers want."
—New York Times Bestselling Author Connie Mason
"Pamela Clare is a fabulous storyteller whose beautifully written, fast-paced tales will leave you breathless with anticipation. She creates heroes, heroines, and villains with the ease of a master that draw the reader irresistibly into the story, making them part of the pain, the fear . . . and the passion."
—USA Today Bestselling Author Leigh Greenwood
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The Ballad of Morgan MacKinnon
By Dougie MacMorran
MacKinnon arose on an April morn’
Taen his rifle in baith his hands
He ha’ bid the lassies a lang farewell
Gaen tae fecht on Carillon’s strand
When the lassies they heard o’ this
Their hands for dule they wrang
Cryin’, “Morgan, bide wi’ us awhile
Tae the battle dinnae ye gang.”
’Tis far tae Ticonderoga
’Tis far through forest and fen
But ’tis there you’ll find Morgan MacKinnon
Bonnie and braw untae the end
We cam tae the walls of Carillon
But the battle had cam tae us
For the French they lay a-waitin’
Wi’ their rifles aimed at us
MacKinnon, he ordered the retreat
But he ha’ stayed ahind
For one o’ his men was doun
And he’d nay leave him tae die.
’Tis far tae Ticonderoga
’Tis far through forest and fen
But ’tis there you’ll find Morgan MacKinnon
Feal and true untae the end
“Leave me here,” cried his woundit man.
“Dinnae gi’ your life for me.”
Says Morgan, “I’ve cam wi’ a hundred men
And wi’ a hundred I shall leave.”
So he ha’ taen him on his back
An’ he buir him tae the strand
Wi’ fire rainin’ frae above
An’ death on either hand
’Tis far tae Ticonderoga
’Tis far through forest and fen
But ’tis there you’ll find Morgan MacKinnon
Stark and strang untae the end
Morgan, he buir him on his back
And sent his men along
But he stayed tae haud the French
So his men micht win awa’
An’ the next shot that the French, they fired
They wounded him in the thee
An’ the last shot that the French, they fired
Well, his hairt’s blood blint his e’e
’Tis far tae Ticonderoga
’Tis far through forest and fen
But ’tis there you’ll find Morgan MacKinnon
Brave and bold untae the end
But Morgan ha’ taen his pistol forth
An’ he raised it one last time
An’ he ha’ fired on the French
An’ killed him who’d struck him doun
Then Morgan fell upon the sand
An’ tae his men he cried
“I am lost. Leave me tae my end.”
Then he laid doun and died
’Tis far tae Ticonderoga
’Tis far through forest and fen
But ’tis there you’ll find Morgan MacKinnon
Bidin’ untae the end
With apologies to poor Johnny O’Braidislee
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