THE LAIRD O' LOGIE.

I WILL sing, if ye will hearken,

If

ye will hearken unto me;

The King has ta'en a poor prisoner,
The wanton laird o' young Logie.

Young Logie's laid in Edinburgh chapel;
Carmichael's the keeper o' the key;1

And may Margaret's lamenting sair,
A' for the love of young Logie.

66

Lament, lament na, may Margaret,
And of your weeping let me be;

1 Sir John Carmichael of Carmichael, the hero of the ballad called the Raid of the Reidswire, was appointed captain of the king's guard in 1588, and usually had the keeping of state criminals of rank :

2

[After stanza 2d, Mr Motherwell inserts, from recitation, the following:

"May Margaret sits in the Queen's bouir

Kincking her fingers ane by ane;

Cursing the day that she ere was born,

Or that ere she heard o' Logie's name."-P. 56.-ED.]

For ye maun to the King himsell,
To seek the life of young Logie."

May Margaret has kilted her green cleiding,
And she has curl'd back her yellow hair-
"If I canna get young Logie's life,
Farewell to Scotland for evermair."-

When she came before the King,
She knelit lowly on her knee-
"O what's the matter, may Margaret?

And what needs a' this courtesie ?"_

"A boon, a boon, my noble liege, A boon, a boon, I beg o' thee!

And the first boon that I come to crave,
Is to grant me the life of young Logie."-

"O na, O na, may Margaret,

Forsooth, and so it manna be;

For a' the gowd o' fair Scotland

Shall not save the life of young Logie."

But she has stown the King's redding kaim,1
Likewise the Queen her wedding knife,

And sent the tokens to Carmichael,
To cause young Logie get his life.

1 Redding kaim-Comb for the hair.

She sent him a purse o' the red gowd,
Another o' the white monie ;

She sent him a pistol for each hand,

And bade him shoot when he gat free.

When he came to the tolbooth stair,
There he let his volley flee:

It made the King in his chamber start,
E'en in the bed where he might be.

“Gae out, gae out, my merrymen a’,

And bid Carmichael come speak to me; For I'll lay my life the pledge o' that,

That yon's the shot o' young Logie."

When Carmichael came before the King,
He fell low down upon his knee:

The

very first word that the King spake, Was-" -"Where's the laird of young Logie ?"—

Carmichael turn'd him round about,

(I wot the tear blinded his ee,) "There came a token frae your grace, Has ta'en away the laird frae me."

"Hast thou play'd me that, Carmichael?
And hast thou play'd me that?" quoth he;
"The morn the justice court's to stand,
And Logie's place ye maun supplie."

Carmichael's awa to Margaret's bower,
Even as fast as he may dree-
"O if young Logie be within,

Tell him to come and speak with me!"

May Margaret turn'd her round about,
(I wot a loud laugh laughed she,)
"The egg is chipp'd, the bird is flown,
Ye'll see nae mair of young Logie."

The tane is shipped at the pier of Leith, The tother at the Queen's Ferrie : And she's gotten a father to her bairn, The wanton laird of young Logie.

A LYKE-WAKE DIRGE.

THIS is a sort of charm sung by the lower ranks of Roman Catholics in some parts of the north of England, while watching a dead body, previous to interment. The tune is doleful and monotonous, and, joined to the mysterious import of the words, has a solemn effect. The word sleet, in the chorus, seems to be corrupted from selt, or salt; a quantity of which, in compliance with a popular superstition, is frequently placed on the breast of a corpse.

The late Mr Ritson found an illustration of this dirge in a MS. of the Cotton Library, containing an account of Cleveland, in Yorkshire, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It was kindly communicated to the Editor by Mr Frank, Mr Ritson's executor, and runs thus :-" When any dieth, certaine women sing a song to the dead bodie, recyting the journey that the partye deceased must goe; and they are of beliefe (such is their fondnesse) that once in their lives, it is good to give a pair of new shoes to a poor man, for as much as, after this life, they are to pass barefoote through a great launde, full of thornes and furzen, except by