Past Linlithgow first we sped, Where the Palace rears its head, Then on by Falkirk, till we pass The famous valley and morass Known as Bannockburn in story, Brightest scene of Scottish glory. On pleasure and instruction bent We made the Stirling hill ascent, And saw the wondrous vale beneath, The lovely valley of Monteith, Stretching under sunlit skies To where the Trossach hills arise. Thence we turned our willing car Westward ho! to Callander, Where childish memories awoke In the wood of ash and oak, Where in days so long gone by I heard the woodland pigeons cry, And, consternation in my face, Legged it to some safer place. Next morning first we viewed a mound, Memorial of some saint renowned, And then the mouldered ditch and ramp Which marked an ancient Roman camp. Then past Lubnaig on we went, Gazed on Ben Ledi's steep ascent, And passed by lovely stream and valley Through Dochart Glen to reach Dalmally, Where on a rough and winding track We wished ourselves in safety back; Till on our left we gladly saw The spreading waters of Loch Awe, And still more gladly truth to tell — A very up-to-date hotel, With Conan's church within its ground, Which gave it quite a homely sound. Thither we came upon the Sunday, Viewed Kilchurn Castle on the Monday, And Tuesday saw us sally forth Bound for Oban and the North. We came to Oban in the rain, I need not mention it again, For you may take it as a fact That in that Western Highland tract It sometimes spouts and sometimes drops, But never, never, never stops. From Oban on we thought it well To take the steamer for a spell. But ere the motor went aboard The Pass of Melfort we explored. A lovelier vale, more full of peace, Was never seen in classic Greece; A wondrous gateway, reft and torn, To open out the land of Lome. Leading on for many a mile To the kingdom of Argyle.