LOCHIEL'S WARNING, They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown; 'Tis thine, O Glenullin! whose bride shall await, LOCHIEL. Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer! Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight WIZARD. Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn? From his home in the dark-rolling clouds of the north? But down let him stoop from his havoc on high! Ah! home let him speed,-for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast 77 For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, LOCHIEL. False Wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my clan : WIZARD. -Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day! Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight: But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where? Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn, The war-drum is muffled, and black is the bier; LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. His death-bell is tolling: Oh! mercy, dispel Where his heart shall be thrown ere it ceases to beat, 79 LOCHIEL. -Down, soothless insulter ! I trust not the tale! For never shall Albin a destiny meet So black with dishonor, so foul with retreat! Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their gore, Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe! Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame! THOMAS CAMPBELL. A Lord Ullin's Daughter. 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 ye, 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 horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?"— Out spoke 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 ; And in the scowl of heaven each face But still as wilder blew the wind, "O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries; The boat has left a stormy land, When, O! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her. THE SANDS O' DEE. And still they rowed amidst the roar Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore; For sore dismayed, through storm and shade One lovely hand she stretched for aid, And one was round her lover. "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this 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 child, And he was left lamenting. THOMAS CAMPBELL. The Sands o' Dee. "MARY, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, Across the sands o' Dee!" The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam, The creeping tide came up along the sand, And o'er and o'er the sand, And round and round the sand, As far as eye could see; The blinding mist came down and hid the land And never home came she. 81 |