Hew Morrison Collection > Bolg solair

THE LAST FERFY.
S mis -e tha fo cbiii
i^^B^S^^I
Dhios i direacb Cha'n i tha air m^ire.
—sang Eoghann— a handsome fellow, his cheek ruddy-brown as his
own sail, from sun and wind and spindrift, and his grey eyes fringed all
round like the lochans on Uist. His voice was deep as the bochaan's ( ')
that I used to hear humming in my chimney in the night-time when
the wind was coming up out of the south-west ; and you might no more
surely be telling whether that wind were blowing from the hills or off
salt water than that Eoghann 's was no landward voice, yet the sound
the wind made in my harp-strings was no sweeter. And always he had
another verse, and whenever the chorus came round, we all lifted under ;
(8) \Mkii i am with myself.
You will be coming into my miud,
I will be raising the tune
To the brown halr'd maid
With the soft eyes.
Full of care am I,
And I steering the birliun ;
How will she be straight (the boat's course),
I havo nmicfht but her in mind (tho maiden).
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