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Now the merry bugle horn

Thro’ the forest sounded far; Wheu on the lofty tow'r, forlorn

The lady watch'd the evening star;

The evening star that seem'd to be
Rising from the darken'd sea!

The summer sea was dark and still,

The sky was streak’d with lines of gold, The mist rose grey above the hill,

And low the clouds of amber roll'd :

The lady on the lofty tow'r

Watch'd the calm and silent hour. And, while she watch'd, she saw advance

A ship, with painted streamers gay: She saw it on the green wave dance,

And plunge amid the silver spray;

While from the forest's haunts, forlorn,

Again she heard the bugle born. The sails were full, the breezes rose:

The billows curl'd along the shore : And now the day began to close ;

The bugle-horn was heard no more,

But, rising from the wat'ry way,
An airy voice was heard to say:

“ Watch no more the evening star;

Watch no more the billowy sea;
Lady, from the Holy War
Thy lover hasies to comfort thee:

Lady, larly, cease to mourns
Soon thy lover will return."

Now she hastens to the bay ;

Now the rising storm she hears : Now the sailors smiling say,

“ Lady, lady, check your fears:

Trust us, lady; we will be
Your pilots o'er the stormy sea.”

Now the little bark she view'd,

Moor'd beside the flinty steep ;
And now upon the foamy flood,
The tranquil breezes seem'd to sleep,

The moon arose : her silver ray
Seem'd on the silent deep to play,

Now music stole across the main :

It was a sweet but mournful tone,
It came a slow and dulcet'strain :
It came from where the pale moon shone,

And while it pass'd across the sea,
More soft, and soft, it seem'd to be.

Now on the deck the lady stands ;

The vessel steers across the main :
It steers towards the Holy Land,
Never to return again :

Still the sailors cry,“ We'll be
Your pilots o'er the stormy sea."

Now she hears a low voice say,

“ Deeper, deeper, deeper still ; Hark! the black’ning billows play: Hark! the waves the vessel fill:

Lower, lower down we go,
All is dark and still below.

Now a flash of vivid light,

On the rolling deep was seen!
And now the Lady saw the Knight,
With doublet rich of gold and green ;
From the sockets of his

A pale and streaming light she spies !

And now his form transparent stood,

Siniling with a ghastly mien; And now the calm and boundless flood, Was like the emerald, bright and green;.

And now 'twas of a troubled hue,

While, “Deeper,deeper,"sang the crew.. Slow advanced the morning light,

Slow they plough'd the wavy tide; When on a cliff of dreadful height,

A castle's lofty tow'rs they spied :

The lady heard the sailor-band

Cry, “ Lady, this is holy land." 66 Watch no more the glitt'ring spray;

Watch no more the weedy sand; Watch no more the star of day;

Lady, this is holy land :

This castle's lord shall welcome thee,,
Then lady, lady, cheerful be!

Now the castle-gates they pass,

Now across the spacious square, Cover'd high with dewy grass,

Trembling steals the lady fair :

And now the castle's lord was seen,
Clad in a doublet gold and green ;

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He led her through the gothic hall,

With bones and skulls encircled round; “ Oh let not this thy soul appal!”'

He cried, “ for this is holy ground.”

He led her through the chambers lone,.

Mid inany a shriek and many a groan.. Now to the banquet-room they came:

Around a table of black stone
She mark'd a faint and vapoury flame ;

Upon the horrid feast it shone.

And there, to close the madd’ning sight,
Unnumber'd spectres met the light.

Their teeth were like the brilliant bright,

Their eyes were blue as sapphire clear, Their bones were of a polish'd white,

Gigantic did their ribs appear !

And now the Knight the lady led,

And plac'd her at the table's head ! Just now the lady woke,--for she

Had slept upon the lofty tow'r, And dreams of dreadful phantasie

Had fill'd the lonely moon-light hour :

Her pillow was the turret stone,

And on her breast the pale moon shone. But now a real voice she hears,

It was her lover's voice ;-for he, To calın her bosorn's rending fears,

That night had cross'd the stormy sea :

“ I come,” said he, “ from Palestine, To prove myself, sweet lady, thine.”



A Chieftain to the Highlands bound,

Cries “ Boatinan, do not tarry! 6 And I'll give thee a silver pound

" To row us o'er the ferry.” “ Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,

- This dark and stormy water!" " Oh I'm the chief of Ulvah's Isle,

" And this Lord Ullin's daughter. 6. And fast before her father's men

6. 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 chear my bonny bride

“ When they have slain her lover ?" Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,

“ I'll go, my chief, --I'm ready :“ It is not for your silver bright;

“ But for your winsomne lady: “ And by my word! the bonny bird,

“ In danger shall not tarry : “ So, tho’the waves are raging whitè,

“ I'll row you o'er the ferry!" By this the storm grew


apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowle of heaven, 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. « Oh haste thee, haste !" the lady cries,

“ The 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 oh! too strong for human hand,

The tempest gather'd 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 thro' storin and shade

His child he did discover:-
One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,

And one was round her lover,

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