In such a vessel never more
  May human creature leave the Shore! [9]
  If this or that way he should stir,
  Woe to the poor blind Mariner! 
    For death will be his doom. 105
  [10]
  But say what bears him?—­Ye have seen
  The Indian’s bow, his arrows keen,
  Rare beasts, and birds with plumage bright;
  Gifts which, for wonder or delight,
    Are brought in ships from far. [11] 110

  [D] Such gifts had those seafaring men
  Spread round that haven in the glen;
  Each hut, perchance, might have its own;
  And to the Boy they all were known—­
     He knew and prized them all. 115

  The rarest was a Turtle-shell
  Which he, poor Child, had studied well;
  A shell of ample size, and light
  As the pearly car of Amphitrite,
    That sportive dolphins drew. [12] 120

  And, as a Coracle that braves
  On Vaga’s breast the fretful waves,
  This shell upon the deep would swim,
  And gaily lift its fearless brim
    Above the tossing surge. [13] 125

  And this the little blind Boy knew: 
  And he a story strange yet true
  Had heard, how in a shell like this
  An English Boy, O thought of bliss! 
    Had stoutly launched from shore; 130

  Launched from the margin of a bay
  Among the Indian isles, where lay
  His father’s ship, and had sailed far—­
  To join that gallant ship of war,
    In his delightful shell. 135

  Our Highland Boy oft visited
  ’The house that [14] held this prize; and, led
  By choice or chance, did thither come
  One day when no one was at home,
    And found the door unbarred. 140

  While there he sate, alone and blind,
  That story flashed upon his mind;—­
  A bold thought roused him, and he took
  The shell from out its secret nook,
     And bore it on his head. [15] 145

  He launched his vessel,—­and in pride
  Of spirit, from Loch-Leven’s side,
  Stepped into it—­his thoughts all free
  As the light breezes that with glee
     Sang through the adventurer’s hair. [16] 150

  A while he stood upon his feet;
  He felt the motion—­took his seat;
  Still better pleased as more and more
  The tide retreated from the shore,
     And sucked, and sucked him in. [17] 155

  And there he is in face of Heaven. 
  How rapidly the Child is driven! 
  The fourth part of a mile, I ween,
  He thus had gone, ere he was seen
     By any human eye. 160

  But when he was first seen, oh me
  What shrieking and what misery! 
  For many saw; among the rest
  His Mother, she who loved him best,
    She saw her poor blind Boy. 165