Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury. 1875.
Thomas Campbell CLXXXI. Lord Ullins DaughterA C
Cries, “Boatman, do not tarry!
And I’ll give thee a silver pound
To row us o’er the ferry!”
This dark and stormy water?”
“O I’m the chief of Ulva’s isle,
And this, Lord Ullin’s daughter.
Three days we’ve fled together;
For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather.
Should they our steps discover,
Then who will cheer my bonnie bride,
When they have slain her lover?”
“I’ll go, my chief, I’m ready:
It is not for your silver bright,
But for your winsome lady:—
In danger shall not tarry;
So though the waves are raging white
I’ll row you o’er the ferry.”
The water-wraith was shrieking;
And in the scowl of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.
And as the night grew drearer,
Adown the glen rode armèd men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.
“Though tempests round us gather;
I’ll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.”
A stormy sea before her,—
When, oh! too strong for human hand
The tempest gather’d o’er her.
Of waters fast prevailing:
Lord Ullin reach’d that fatal shore,—
His wrath was changed to wailing.
His child he did discover;—
One lovely hand she stretch’d for aid,
And one was round her lover.
“Across this stormy water;
And I’ll forgive your Highland chief,
My daughter! O my daughter!”
Return or aid preventing:
The waters wild went o’er his child,
And he was left lamenting.