'Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?' 'O I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, 'And fast before her father's men 'His horsemen hard behind us ride- Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, 'And by my word! the bonny bird So though the waves are raging white By this the storm grew loud apace, But still as wilder blew the wind, "O haste thee, haste!' the lady cries, The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, When, oh! too strong for human hand The tempest gather'd o'er her. And still they row'd amidst the roar Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,- For, sore dismay'd, through storm and shade One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, 'Come back! come back!' he cried in grief 'Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, 'Twas vain the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing: The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. CCXXVI T. Campbell LUCY GRAY Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; The sweetest thing that ever grew You yet may spy the fawn at play, But the sweet face of Lucy Gray 'To-night will be a stormy night - That, Father! will I gladly do: 'Tis scarcely afternoon The minster-clock has just struck two, At this the father raised his hook, He plied his work ;-and Lucy took Not blither is the mountain roe: Her feet disperse the powdery snow, The storm came on before its time : And many a hill did Lucy climb : The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight At day-break on a hill they stood And thence they saw the bridge of wood They wept-and, turning homeward, cried 'In heaven we all shall meet ! ' -When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet. Then downwards from the steep hill's edge They track'd the footmarks small; And through the broken hawthorn hedge, And by the long stone-wall : And then an open field they cross'd: The marks were still the same; They track'd them on, nor ever lost; And to the bridge they came : They follow'd from the snowy bank Into the middle of the plank; And further there were none ! -Yet some maintain that to this day That you may see sweet Lucy Gray O'er rough and smooth she trips along, W. Wordsworth CCXXVII JOCK OF HAZELDEAN 'Why weep ye by the tide, ladie? 'Now let this wilfu' grief be done, His step is first in peaceful ha', 'A chain of gold ye sall not lack, Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair; And you the foremost o' them a' Shall ride our forest-queen But aye she loot the tears down fa' The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide, The priest and bridegroom wait the bride, They sought her baith by bower and ha'; The ladie was not seen! She's o'er the Border, and awa' Wi' Jock of Hazeldean. Sir W. Scott CCXXVIII LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY The fountains mingle with the river Nothing in the world is single, See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the sunlight clasps the earth, P. B. Shelley |