But softer, floating o'er the deep,

The Mermaid's sweet sea-soothing lay, That charm'd the dancing waves to sleep, Before the bark of Colonsay.

Aloft the purple pennons wave,

As, parting gay from Crinan's shore, From Morven's wars the seamen brave

Their gallant chieftain homeward bore.

In youth's gay bloom, the grave Macphail Still blamed the lingering bark's delay; For her he chid the flagging sail,

The lovely maid of Colonsay.

And "Raise," he cried, "the song of love,
The maiden sung with tearful smile,
When first, o'er Jura's hills he rove,
We left afar the lonely isle!"

"When on this ring of ruby red

Shall die," she said, "the crimson hue, Know that thy favorite fair is dead, Or proves to thee and love untrue.”

Now, lightly poised, the rising oar
Disperses wide the foamy spray,
And, echoing far o'er Crinan's shore,
Resounds the song of Colonsay.

"Softly blow, thou western breeze, Softly rustle through the sail,

Sooth to rest the furrowy seas,

Before my love, sweet western gale!

"Where the wave is tinged with red, And the russet sea-leaves grow,

Mariners, with prudent dread,

Shun the shelving reefs below.

"As you pass through Jura's sound,
Bend your course by Scarba's shore,
Shun, O shun, the gulf profound,
Where Corrivrekin's surges roar!

"If from that unbottom'd deep,

With wrinkled form and writhed train, O'er the verge of Scarba's steep,

The sea-snake heave his snowy mane,

"Unwarp, unwind his oozy coils, Sea-green sisters of the main,

And in the gulf where ocean boils

The unwieldy wallowing monster chain!

"Softly blow, thou western breeze, Softly rustle through the sail,

Sooth to rest the furrowed seas,

Before my love, sweet western gale!"

Thus, all to soothe the chieftain's woe,
Far from the maid he loved so dear,

The song arose, so soft and slow,

He seem'd her parting sigh to hear.

The lonely deck he paces o'er,

Impatient for the rising day,

And still, from Crinan's moonlight shore, He turns his eyes to Colonsay.

The moonbeams crisp the curling surge, That streaks with foam the ocean green; While forward still the rowers urge

Their course, a female form was seen.

That Sea-maid's form, of pearly light,
Was whiter than the downy spray,
And round her bosom, heaving bright,
Her glossy yellow ringlets play.

Borne on a foamy-crested wave,

She reach'd amain the bounding prow, Then, clasping fast the chieftain brave, She plunging sought the deep below.

Ah! long beside thy feigned bier

The monks the prayers of death shall say,

And long for thee the fruitless tear
Shall weep the maid of Colonsay!

But downwards, like a powerless corse,
The eddying waves the chieftain bear;
He only heard the moaning hoarse
Of waters murmuring in his ear.

The murmurs sink by slow degrees;

No more the surges round him rave; Lull'd by the music of the seas,

He lies within a coral cave.

In dreamy mood reclines he long,

Nor dares his tranced eyes unclose,

Till, warbling wild, the Sea-maid's song
Far in the crystal cavern rose;

Soft as that harp's unseen control,
In morning dreams that lovers hear,
Whose strains steal sweetly o'er the soul,
But never reach the waking ear.

As sunbeams through the tepid air,
When clouds dissolve in dews unseen,
Smile on the flowers, that bloom more fair,
And fields, that glow with livelier green.

So melting soft the music fell;

It seem'd to sooth the fluttering spray. "Say, heard'st thou not these wild notes swell?" "Ah! 'tis the song of Colonsay."

Like one that from a fearful dream
Awakes, the morning light to view,

And joys to see the purple beam,
Yet fears to find the vision true,—

He heard that strain, so wildly sweet,
Which bade his torpid languor fly!

He fear'd some spell had bound his feet,
And hardly dared his limbs to try.