I'll woo her as the lion wooes his brides

In the first days Of my distracting grief, I found myself As women wish to be who love their lords.

A rude and boisterous captain of the sea.

My name is Norval; on the Grampian hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

What great Effects from slender Causes flow!

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.