The stranger smiled: -- 'Since to your home A destined errant-knight I come, Announced by prophet sooth and old, Doomed, doubtless, for achievement bold, I 'll lightly front each high emprise For one kind glance of those bright eyes.

Permit me first the task to guide Your fairy frigate o'er the tide.'

The maid, with smile suppressed and sly, The toil unwonted saw him try;For seldom, sure, if e'er before, His noble hand had grasped an oar:

Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, And o'er the lake the shallop flew;With heads erect and whimpering cry, The hounds behind their passage ply.

Nor frequent does the bright oar break The darkening mirror of the lake, Until the rocky isle they reach, And moor their shallop on the beach.