Johnnie of the Silver Feather

Who has seen the Silver Feather
Flying in across the foam,
Thro' the isles where thyme and heather
Flower sweet as honeycomb –
Who has seen the Silver Feather
That should bring young Johnnie home?

Oh, he sailed away this morning –
Never more the land he'd plough!
Laughing at the cloudy warning
Over black Ben Eilan's brow:
White he spread is sail this morning,
And 'tis emerald evening now.

The boats, they leave the sea-washed island
For their land-locked harbour-bound,
Wafting in to sheltered Highland
Wood and field and garden-ground:
Aye, they leave their sea-washed island
Long ere dusk for Moyra Sound.

Sea-mew, White Sea-Hawk and Raven,
All the fleet at evening swings
Quietly in this western haven,
Murmuring at their mooring-rings:
Tern and Solan Goose and Raven
Where the moorland curlew sings.

All the fishing fleet save only
One that dips her lug-s'ls far
Out beyond the darkened, lonely
Islands where the grey seals are:
Where the tide-race mourns him only
That has sought the sunset star.

Who has seen the Silver Feather
Flying in across the sea,
Thro' the isles where thyme and heather
Flower for the honeybee?
Who has seen the Silver Feather –
Johnnie, Johnnie, where is he?