The Mariner hath his will.

St. Stephen's Guest stands like a stone.

He cannot chuse but hear;

And thus outspeaks that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

Our ship was cheered, the harbour cleared

Merrily did we drop

Below the Kirk, Tory ill-will

Our vessel might not stop.

The Mariner tells how his new-launched Craft, after some adverse gales, sailed northward, with a good wind, and fair weather.