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FAIR MARGARET OF CRAIGNARGAT. 253
" Your curse, father, I don't regard,
Your blessing I'll ne'er crave; To the man I love I'll constant prove, »
And never him deceive."
On board with him fair Margaret's gone,
In hopes his bride to be; But mark ye well, and I shall tell
Of their sad destiny. 100
They had not sail'd a league but five,
Till the storm began to rise; The swelling seas ran mountains high,
And dismal were the skies.
In deep despair that lady fair 10*
For help aloud she cries, While crystal tears like fountains ran
Down from her lovely eyes.
"01 have got my father's curse
My pride for to subdue ! 11°
With sorrows great my heart will break,
Alas what shall I do!
" O were I at my father's house,
His blessing to receive, Then on my bended knees I'd fall, 114
His pardon for to crave !
" To aid my grief, there's no relief,
To speak it is in vain; Likewise my loving parents dear
I ne'er shall see again." 120 |
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