A cheiftain to the Higlands bound,
Cries "Boatman do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o'er the Ferry"
"Now who be ye would cross lochgyle
this dark and stormy water!"
"O I'm the cheif of Ulva's isle
And this Lord Ulins Daughter
after many Verses
"Come back ! come back!" he cried in grief
"Across this stormy Water
And I"ll forgive your Highland Chief
My Daughter ! -- O 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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