« 前へ次へ »
The shouting vassals man the oars,
“Sweet thought, but vain —No, Morag ! mark,
Now, though the darkening scud comes on,
Sooth spoke the Maid.--Amid the tide
The skiff she mark'd lay tossing sore, And shifted oft her stooping side,
In weary tack from shore to shore.
Yet on her destined course no more
She gain'd, of forward way,
Who toil the live-long day;
And such the risk her pilot braves,
That oft, before she wore,
Upon the shelving shore.
Nor look'd where shelter lay,
Nor steer'd for Aros bay.
Thus while they strove with wind and seas, Borne onward by the willing breeze,
Lord Ronald's fleet swept by,
Of Island chivalry.
Yet bears them on their way:
So chafes the war-horse in his might,
But, foaming, must obey.
And hauberks with their burnish'd fold,
That shimmer'd fair and free;
And each proud galley, as she pass'd,
. To the wild cadence of the blast
Gave wilder minstrelsy.
Full many a shrill triumphant note
Saline and Scallastle bade float
Their misty shores around; And Morven's echoes answer'd well,
And Duart heard the distant swell
Come down the dark some Sound.
So bore they on with mirth and pride,
'Twas with such idle eye
They pass him careless by. Let them sweep on with heedless eyes ! But, had they known what mighty prize
In that frail vessel lay, The famish'd wolf, that prowls the wold, Had scatheless pass'd the unguarded fold, Ere, drifting by these galleys bold,
Unchallenged were her way! And thou, Lord Ronald, sweep thou on, With mirth and pride and minstrel tone! But had'st thou known who sail'd so nigh, Far other glance were in thine eye !