Our Highland Boy oft visited The house which held this prize; and, led While there he sate, alone and blind, And with the happy burthen hied, And pushed it from Loch Levin's side,— Stepped into it; and, without dread, Following the fancies in his head, He paddled up and down. A while he stood upon his feet; Had sucked, and sucked him in. And there he is in face of Heaven. But when he was first seen, oh me His Mother, she who loved him best, But for the Child, the sightless Boy, It is the triumph of his joy! The bravest Traveller in balloon, Mounting as if to reach the moon, And let him, let him go his way, This Child will take no harm. But now the passionate lament, Which from the crowd on shore was sent, The cries which broke from old and young In Gaelic, or the English tongue, Are stifled-all is still. And quickly with a silent crew A Boat is ready to pursue; And from the shore their course they take, But soon they move with softer pace, On Grasmere's clear unruffled breast Or as the wily Sailors crept To seize (while on the Deep it slept) They steal upon their prey. With sound the least that can be made They follow, more and more afraid, More cautious as they draw more near; But in his darkness he can hear, Lei-gha-Lei-gha"-then did he cry Lei-gha-Lei-gha"-most eagerly; Thus did he cry, and thus did pray, Alas! and when he felt their hands- That with a motion overthrow A palace of the proudest shew, So all his dreams, that inward light With which his soul had shone so bright, All vanish'd;-'twas a heartfelt cross To him, a heavy, bitter loss, As he had ever known. But hark! a gratulating voice "Tis from the crowd, who tremblingly Had watch'd the event, and now can see That he is safe at last. And then, when he was brought to land, Full sure they were a happy band, Which gathering round did on the banks Of that great Water give God thanks, And welcomed the poor Child. And in the general joy of heart The blind Boy's little Dog took part; But most of all, his Mother dear, |