[The Florida, one of the Invincible Armada, was sunk at Tobermory by an emissary of Queen Elizabeth. This vessel is supposed to have contained a great deal of specie. The country tradition concerning it is, that a daughter of the King of Spain having dreamed that a young man of particularly engaging figure had appeared to her, determined to sail the wide world in search of the living prototype of the vision; Maclean of Duart realized in the princess's eyes the creations of her fancy. The wife of Maclean became jealous of his attentions to the fair stranger, and sought counsel of the witches of Mull, by whose agency the vessel was sunk with the object of her resentment.-Anderson's Guide to the Highlands.]

I.

'WEIRD Woman, that dwellest on lofty Ben More,
Give ear to my sorrow, and aid, I implore.

A lady has come from the green sunny bowers
Of a far southern clime, to the mountains of ours;
A light in her eyes, but deceit in her heart,
And she lingers and lingers, and will not départ.

II.

"Through darkness and danger, 'mid tempest and rain,
She has sail'd to our shores from the vineyards of Spain,

Forsaking her country, her kindred, her home,
Abroad through our cold Western islands to roam,
To find a young lover as fair to her sight
As a vision she saw in the slumbers of night.

III.

'And hither by stars inauspicious convey'd,
She has come, in her gems and her beauty array'd,
With a tongue full of sweetness-a heart insincere,
And wielding at will both the smile and the tear;
And fix'd her bright eyes on the chief of Maclean,
To toy with his heart, and bewilder his brain.

IV.

'And I, who was once the delight of his soul,
Ere she like a blight on my happiness stole,
Now wander through Duart, neglected and lorn,
Of a stranger the scoff-of my maidens the scorn;
With a grief in my bosom that gnaws to the core,
And a fire in my brain that will burn evermore:

V.

'Unless thou wilt aid me with charm and with spell,
To gain back the heart I have cherish'd so well,
And rid me of her who with art the most vile
Has poison'd my peace with her glozing and guile-
I hate her with hatred intense as despair!-
Yet murder's a guilt that my soul cannot bear.'

VI.

'Be calm, craven spirit! On me be the guilt.
No poison shall rack her, no blood shall be spilt.
Till my hair has turn'd gray, and my blood has grown thin,
I have dwelt on Ben More with the spirits of sin;

And have learn'd by their aid without weapons to kill,
And can blast by a look, and destroy by my will.

VII.

'Were the good ship, the Florida, far on the seas,
I'd whirl her and toss her, like chaff on the breeze,
And far on some cliff, where the storms ever roar,
And aid could not reach them, I'd drive them ashore;
And the wanton I'd seize by her long raven locks,
And drag her to death at the foot of the rocks.

VIII.

'But safe from all danger of winds and of tides,
In calm Tobermory at anchor she rides;
But peril may come 'mid security deep,

And vengeance may wake when the world is asleep;
And strong though her timbers-her haven secure,
The hand of Revenge, though unseen, shall be sure.'

IX.

Serene was the night, and unruffled the bay,
Not a breath stirr'd the deep where the Florida lay;
Her bread azure pennant hung breezeless on high,
And her thin taper masts pointed clear to the sky;
And the moonlight that fell on the breast of the deep
Appear'd like the charm that had lull'd it to sleep.

X.

The cabin-boy dream'd of the vineyards of Spain,
Or roam'd with a maiden at sunset again;
The sailor, in fancy, was dancing afar,

In his own native land, to his graceful guitar;
Or bless'd with a household, in sleep, was restored
To the children he loved, and the wife he adored.

XI.

The fair Spanish lady in visions was blest:

She dream'd that, escaped from the isles of the West,
Her young Highland chief had consented to roam
To her far Andalusia in search of a home;

That together they dwelt in her own sunny clime,
Where life was not effort, and love was not crime.

XII.

None dream'd of the danger that round them might lurk ;
But in darkness and silence a spell was at work.
Conceal'd in the waters, at poop and at prow,

The agents of evil were busy below;

And noiseless their labour, but certain their stroke, Through her strong copper'd hull, and her timbers of oak.

XIII.

And long ere the morning, a loud sudden shriek

Was heard o'er the bay Sprung a leak!-sprung a leak !'
Oh! then there was gathering in tumult and fear,
And a blanching of cheeks, as the peril grew near;
A screaming of women-a shouting of men,
And a rushing and trampling, again and again!

XIV.

No time for leave-taking-no leisure to weep!
In roll'd the fierce waters, and down to the deep,
Down, down fifty fathoms, with captain and crew,
The Florida sank, with the haven in view.-
Down, down to the bottom, escaping but one,
To tell the sad tale of the deed that was done.

XV.

And he, as he battled for life with the tide,
Beheld the fair lady of Spain by his side,

And a lank skinny hand, that came up through the spray,
And twined in her tresses, as floating she lay,

And heard the loud laughter of fiends in the air,

As she sank 'mid the waves with a shriek of despair.