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The shouting vassals man the oars,'.
His galley mates the flying steed,
6 Sweet thought, but vain !-No, Morag ! mark, Type of his course, yon lonely bark, That oft hath shifted helm and sail,
To win its way against the gale.
Since peep of morn, my vacant eyes,
Now, though the darkening scud comes on,
And dawn's fair promises be gone,
And though the weary crew may see
Sooth spoke the Maid.--Amid the tide
The skiff she mark'd lay tossing sore,
In weary tack from shore to shore.
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,
Thus while they strove with wind and seas, Borne onward by the willing breeze,
Lord Ronald's fleet swept by, . Streamer'd with silk, and trick'd with gold, Mann'd with the noble and the bold
Of Island chivalry.
Yet bears them on their way :
But, foaming, must obey.
That shimmer'd fair and free; And each proud galley, as she pass’d, . To the wild cadence of the blast
Gave wilder minstrelsy.
Their misty shores around;
Come down the darksome Sound.
. XVI. So bore they on with mirth and pride, And if that labouring bark they spied,
'Twas with such idle eye As nobles cast on lowly boor, When, toiling in his task obscure,
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 !