Classic Poem

AIR — " The Maid of Isla ."

O Maid of Isla, from the cliff
That looks on troubled wave and sky,
Dost thou not see yon little skiff
Contend with ocean gallantly?
Now beating 'gainst the breeze and surge,
And steeped her leeward deck in foam,
Why does she war unequal urge? —
O Isla's maid, she seeks her home.

O Isla's maid, yon sea-bird mark,
Her white wing gleams through mist and spray
Against the storm-cloud lowering dark,
As to the rock she wheels away; —
Where clouds are dark and billows rave,
Why to the shelter should she come
Of cliff, exposed to wind and wave? —
O maid of Isla, 't is her home!

As breeze and tide to yonder skiff,
Thou 'rt adverse to the suit I bring,
And cold as is you wintry cliff
Where seabirds close their wearied wing.
Yet cold as rock, unkind as wave,
Still, Isla's maid, to thee I come;
For in thy love or in his grave
Must Allan Vourich find his home.