Page:The poetical works of Thomas Campbell.djvu/114

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"O 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, oh! too strong for human hand,The tempest gather'd o'er her.—
And still they row'd amidst the roarOf waters fast prevailing:Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,His wrath was changed 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 stormy water:And I'll forgive your Highland chief,My daughter—oh 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.
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