THE CHIEFTAIN
(T. Campbell - 1824)

A Chieftain to the Highlands bound,
cry'd boatman to 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 chieff O Ulva's Isle
And this Lord Ullin's daughter


And fast before her fathers men,
Three days we've fled together,
for if he finds us in the glen,
My blood witll stain the heather,
His horsemen hard behind us rigde
should they our steps discover
Then who would cheer by bonny birde,
When they have slain her lover.

Out spoke the hard highland wight
I'll go my Chief, I'm ready,
It is not for your silver bright
but for your winsome lady
And by my word the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry
Lo though the waves are raging white
I'll row you o'er the ferry

By this the storn grew loaud apace,
The water waraith was shreiking
And in the scowl of heaven, each face
Grew dark as they were speaking
But still as wilder blew the wind,
and as the night grew drearer
Adown the glen rode armed men
Their trampling sounded nearer

Oh hast thee! Haste! the lady cried
Tho' tempests round us gatehr
I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry Father,
The boat has left a stormy land,
a stormy sea before her,
Whe Oh! too strong for human hand
the tempest gathered o'er her.

And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing,
Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore
His wrath was changed to wailing
For sore dismay'd thro storm and shade
His child he did discover
One lovely hand she strech'd for aid,
And one was round her lover

Come Back! Come Back he cry'd in grief,
Across this ragin water
And I'll forgive your Highland chieif
My daughter oh my daughter
'Twas vain the loud wave lashed the shore
Return of help preventing
The waters wild went o'er his child
And he was left lamenting