Something stirs inside,
More than overlooking the loch,
Is your deep and boundless beauty.
Here at my place,
I constantly see your sweet face,
Celebrated beyond banks, upon Moy.
It has been my great fortune,
More than titles bequeathed,
To have held you at times.
Children came to grace us,
But I never tired for anything,
You were my rock and my shelter.
Sometimes in the dead of night,
I would wake just to watch you,
Listen to you breathing softly.
No man could have needed,
Nor wanted more devotion or love,
Than to be blessed by your smile.
And finally as I leave you,
Remember dear children, dear Celia,
I'm so glad you were mine.
Head of the Clan Mackintosh,