Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/367



surly windes and grewsome cloudes Are tilting in the skye, And every little star's abed, That glimmered cheerilie— O then 'tis meet for mariners To steer righte carefulie! For mermaides sing the schippman's dirge, Where ocean weddes the skye— A blessing on our gude schippe as lustilie she sailes, O what can match our gude schippe when blest with favouring gales!

Blythely to the tall top-mast, Up springs the sailor boy— Could he but hail a distant port, How he would leap with joy! By bending yard and rope he swings— A fair-haired child of glee—