The north-east wind did briskly blow,
The ship was safely moor'd;
Young Bryan thought the boat's-crew slow,
And so leapt over-board.
Pereene, the pride of Indian dames,5
His heart long held in thrall;
And whoso his impatience blames,
I wot, ne'er lov'd at all.
A long long year, one month and day,
He dwelt on English land,10
Nor once in thought or deed would stray,
Tho' ladies sought his hand.
For Bryan he was tall and strong,
Right blythsome roll'd his een,
Sweet was his voice whene'er he sung,15
He scant had twenty seen.
But who the countless charms can draw,
That grac'd his mistress true;
Such charms the old world seldom saw,
Nor oft I ween the new.20
Her raven hair plays round her neck,
Like tendrils of the vine;
Her cheeks red dewy rose-buds deck,
Her eyes like diamonds shine.
Soon as his well-known ship she spied,25
She cast her weeds away,
And to the palmy shore she hied,
All in her best array.
In sea-green silk so neatly clad,
She there impatient stood;30
The crew with wonder saw the lad
Repell the foaming flood.
Her hands a handkerchief display'd.
Which he at parting gave;
Well pleas'd the token he survey'd,35
And manlier beat the wave.