IS raging noon; and, vertical, the sun 174 A SUMMER NOON. From pole to pole is undistinguish'd blaze. Or, through th' unsheltered glade, impatient, seem All-conquering heat, oh, intermit thy wrath, Amid a jarring world with vice inflamed. THOMSON. Lord Allin's Daughter. Now, who be CHIEFTAIN to the Highlands bound, Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound ye To row us o'er the ferry." would cross Lochgyle, O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together; For, should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, "I'll go, my chief—I'm ready :— It is not for your silver bright, But for your winsome lady : : 176 LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER. "And, by my word! the bonny bird So, though the waves are raging white, By this the storm grew loud apace, And in the scowl of heaven each face But still as wilder blew the wind, "O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, And still they rowed amidst the roar Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore, His wrath was changed to wailing. For sore dismay'd, thro' storm and shade, THE DEFORMED CHILD. One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, "Come back! come back!" he cried in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief,- 'Twas vain the loud waves lash'd the shore, The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting. 177 THOMAS CAMPBELL. A The Deformed Child. N angel prisoned in an infant frame Looks patiently from out that languid eye, Matured, and seeming large with pain. The name Of "happy childhood" mocks his movements tame, |