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In dust, low the traitor has knelt to the ground, And the desert revealed where his lady was found; From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne, Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn!
BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.
But the might of England flushed
“Hearts of oak,” our captains cried; when each gun
Then Denmark blest our chief,
Now joy, old England, raise !
VIII. Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of fame that died, With the gallant good Riou :* Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song
condoles Singing glory to the souls Of the brave !
LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.
A CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound,
Cries, Boatmen, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound,
To row us o'er the ferry.”
* Captain Riou, justly cntitied the gallant and the good, by Lord Nelson, when he wrote hcme his despatches.
“Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy water!"“Oh 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?"
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;
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 heav'n, each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.
But still as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer.* The evil spirit of the waters.
" 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,-
The tempest gathered o'er her.
And still they rowed amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing :
His wrath was changed to wailing.
For sore dismayed, through storm and shade
His child he did discover :
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
And he was left lamenting.