A TRAGEDY
49
GLENFADDEN.
Can see on northern waves the found'ring bark,
With all her shrieking crew, sink to the deep.
While yet, with gentle winds, on dimpling surge
She sails from port in all her gallant trim:
John of the Isle hath seen it.
Omnes, starting back.
GLENFADDEN.
The mermaid hath been heard upon our rocks?
Omnes, still more alarmed.
GLENFADDEN.
That lifts its dark head through the cloudy smoke
Of dashing billows, near the western cliff.
Sweetly, but sadly, o'er the stilly deep
The passing sound was borne. I need not say
How fatal to our clan that boding sound
Hath ever been.
