« ElőzőTovább »
And she cried: 'Ply the oar ;
Put off gaily from shore!'
As she spoke, bolts of death
And from isle, tower, and rock,
'And fear'st thou, and fear'st thou? And see'st thou, and hear'st thou ? And drive we not free
O'er the terrible sea,
One boat-cloak did cover
Their blood beats one measure,
While around the lashed Ocean,
In the court of the fortress
Beside the pale portress,
On the topmost watch-turret,
And with curses as wild
He devotes to the blast
Of his name!
'O MARY, go and call the cattle home,
Across the sands o' Dee;'
The western wind was wild and dank wi' foam,
And all alone went she.
The creeping tide came up along 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.
'O is it weed or fish or floating hair,
A tress o' golden hair,
O' drowned maiden's hair,
Above the nets at sea?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair,
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea;
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands o' Dee.
A PERILOUS life, and sad as life may be,
The lonely fisher thus must ever fare;
Without the comfort, hope, with scarce a friend, He looks through life, and only sees its end!
SIR PATRICK SPENS.
THE king sits in Dunfermline town,
Then up and spake an eldern knight,
The king has written a braid letter
"To Noroway, to Noroway,
To Noroway over the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis thou must bring her hame.'
The first word that Sir Patrick read,
'O wha is this has done this deed,
To send us out at this time o' the year,
'Be it wind, be it weet, be it sail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem; The king's daughter of Noroway, 'Tis we must fetch her hame.'