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158. LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER
A chieftain to the Highlands
bound Cries ‘Boatman, do not tarry ! And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o’er the ferry.' Now who be
would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?' O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
And this Lord Ullin's daughter. And fast before her father's
men Three days we've fled together, For, should he find us in the
glen, My blood would stain the
heather. His horseman hard behind us
But still, as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armèd men
Their trampling sounded nearer. 'O haste thee, haste !' the lady
cries, * Though tempests round us
gather ; I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,When, oh! too strong for human
hand, The tempest gathered o'er her. And still they rode amidst the
Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny
bride When they have slain her
lover?' Outspoke the hardy Highland
wight, ' I'll go, my chief ! I'm ready; It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady. 'And, by my word! the bonny
bird In danger shall not tarry ; So, though the waves are raging
white I'll row you o'er the ferry.' By this the storm grew loud
apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each
face Grew dark they were
• Come back! come back !'he
cried in grief Across the stormy water : And I'll forgive your Highland
chief, My daughter! oh my daughter!' 'Twas vain: the loud waves lashed
the shore, Return or aid preventing ; The waters wild went o'er his
159. FROM THE LAST MAN' ALL worldly shapes shall melt in By Him recalled to breath gloom,
Who captive led captivity,
Its Immortality !
'Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me That gave my spirit strength to
On Nature's awful waste Adown the gulf of Time !
To drink this last and bitter I saw the last of human mould
cup That shall Creation's death behold
Of grief that man shall tasteAs Adam saw her prime !
Go, tell the night that hides thy
face * The spirit shall return to Him Thou saw'st the last of Adam's
That gave its heavenly spark ;
When thou thyself art dark ! The darkening universe defy
And be what I have been,
My young and fair Florine.
Devoted rapture's glow,
Finds Time a conquering foe.
As far as night from noon ;
161. FROM `MEN OF ENGLAND'
Rights that cost your sires their blood !
Has been proved on land and flood
By the glorious deeds ye’ve done.
Navies conquered-kingdoms won !
Yet, remember, England gathers
Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame,
Glow not in your hearts the same.
Where no public virtues bloom ?
162. SONG OF HYBRIAS THE CRETAN
Which on my arm I buckle :
And all around me truckle.
Nor joy to draw the sword-
163. THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC OF Nelson and the North
But the might of England flushed
* Hearts of oak!' our captain And her arms along the deep cried; when each gun proudly shone,
From its adamantine lips
Of the sun.
Again ! again ! again !
To our cheering sent us back :
Light the gloom.
Out spoke the victor then
instead of death let us
the day ;
bright O’er a wide and woful sight, Where the fires of funeral light
Now joy, Old England, raise
Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride
their grave !
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
The darkness of her scenery.
To join the dreadful revelry.
Far flashed the red artillery.
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun
Shout in their sulphurous canopy.
And charge with all thy chivalry !
165. DRINKING-SONG OF MUNICH SWEET Iser! were thy sunny realm Like rivers crimsoned with the And flowery gardens mine,
beam Thy waters I would shade with Of yonder planet bright elm
Our balmy cups should To prop the tender vine ;
stream My golden flagons I would fill Profusion of delight; With rosy draughts from every No care should touch the mellow
heart, And under every myrtle bower And sad or sober none depart ; My gay companions should pro For wine can triumph over woe, long
And Love and Bacchus, brother The laugh, the revel, and the
Could build in Iser's sunny bowers To many an idle hour.
A paradise below.
166. YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND YE Mariners of England
The spirits of your
fathers That guard our native seas, Shall start from every wave! Whose flag has braved, a thousand For the deck it was their field of years,
fame, The battle and the breeze
And Ocean was their grave. Your glorious standard launch Where Blake and mighty Nelson again
fell To match another foe !
Your manly hearts shall glow, And sweep through the deep, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do While the stormy winds do blow,
blow, While the battle rages loud and While the battle rages loud and
long, And the stormy winds do blow. And the stormy winds do blow.