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The Song Book 287
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,
The water-wraith was shrieking ; And in the scowl of Heav'n, each face
Grew dark as they were speaking : But still as louder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.
" Oh 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,— When, O ! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.
And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing ; Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,—
His wrath was chang'd to wailing. For, sore dismay'd, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover :— One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,
And one was round her lover.
" Come back ! come back!" he cried in grief,
"Across this raging water; And I'll forgive your highland chief,
My daughter !—O my daughter !" '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.
Words by Campbell. Tune (from Bunting) The Charming fair Eily.