“O what is sweeter and softer than thou
“Heather-bell on the mountain brow?
“And what is more pure than the sparkling dew
“That kisses that heather-bell so blue?
“Yes! far far sweeter and purer is she,
“The dark-eyed Maiden of the Sea.
“What is more sweet in the leafy grove
“Than the nightingale’s plaintive song of love?
“And what is more gay than the lark of spring,
“As he carrols lightly on heaven-bent wing?
“O yes, more sweet and more gay is she,
“The dark-eyed Maiden of the Sea.
“Her raven-tresses in ringlets flow,
“Her step is more light than the forest doe,
“Her dark eyes shine ’neath their silken lash,
“Like the bright but lambent light’ning flash
“Of a summer eve, as noiseless it plays
“’Midst a million stars of yet softer rays.
“The beauteous Eltha’s evening song
“Is wafted o’er the swelling wave,
“And it catches the ear, as it steals along,
“Of wondering seamen, while billows lave
“In gentle murmurs his vessel’s prow,
“As he voyages to where the cedars grow.
“A shallop is riding upon the sea,
“With her broad sail furl’d to the mast;
“A pennon brave floats fair and free
“On the breeze, as it whispers past:
“And who is that stranger of lofty mien
“Who is rock’d on the salt, salt tide?
“———He is from a foreign land I ween,
“A stranger of meikle pride.
“He has heard the beauteous Eltha’s notes
“Borne far on the eventide breeze,
“Like the eastern perfume that distant floats
“O’er the silver surfac’d seas.
“The stranger hath seen dark Eltha’s eye,
“As it glanc’d o’er the wave so green;
“And mark’d her tresses of raven-dye,
“(More beauteous than golden sheen,)
“Interwoven with sea-flowers of whiten’d hue,
“Such flowers as never in garden grew,
“But pluck’d from the caverns of ocean deep
“By the last stormy waves’ fast rushing sweep,
“And left on the strand as a tribute to thee,
“Thou dark-eyed Maiden of the Sea.
“The stranger lov’d dark Eltha’s lay,
“And he lov’d her bright, bright eye;
“And he sued for the love of that maiden gay,
“As she wander’d the ocean nigh.
“He gain’d her love, for his form had grace,
“And stately was his stride;
“His gentlesse show’d him of noble race,
“Tho’ roaming on billows wide:—
“But fair skims the breeze o’er the placid sea,
“And the stranger must hie to a far countrie.