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Lyrics: William Mason

My ships to fair Sicilia's coast have rowed their rapid way,
While in their van my well-manned barque spread wide her srreamers gay.
Armed at the helm, myself a host I seemed in glory's orb to move:
Ah, Harold check the empty boat, a Russian maiden scorns thy love.

Rough was the sea, and rude the wind, and scanty were my crew;
Billows on billows o'er our deck with frothy fury flew.
Deep in our hold the waves were tossed, back to their bed each wave we drove:
Ah, Harold check the empty boat, a Russian maiden scorns thy love.

What feat of hardihood so bold, but Harold wots it well?
I curb the steed, I stem the flood, I fight with falchion fell;
The oar I ply from coast to coast, on ice with flying skates I rove:
Ah, Harold check the empty boat, a Russian maiden scorns thy love.

John Wall Callcott
(1766 - 1821)

Callcott : Harold the valiant : illustration


Harold the valiant

(T.T.B.)

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