The songs to savage virtue dear
That won of yore the public ear,

Ere Polity, sedate and sage,

Had quench'd the fires of feudal rage.

These venerable ancient Song-Enditers

Soar'd many a pitch above our modern writers:
With rough majestic force they moved the heart,
And Strength and Nature made amends for Art.

WARTON.

ROWE.

Yet fragments of the lofty strain
Float down the tide of years,
As buoyant on the stormy main
A parted wreck appears.

Introduction to Jamieson's
Northern Antiquities.

Ballads and Romances.

I.

TRADITIONAL BALLADS.

THOMAS THE RHYMER.

True Thomas lay on Huntly bank,—
A ferlie he spied wi' his ee :

And there he saw a Lady bright

Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.

Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fine;
At ilka tett of her horse's mane
Hung fifty silver bells and nine.

True Thomas he pull'd aff his cap,
And louted low down to his knee:
“All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth I never did see."

“O no, O no, Thomas!" she said:

"That name does not belang to me,I am but the Queen of fair Elf-land That am hither come to visit thee.

"Betide me weal, betide me woe,

That weird shall never daunton me."
Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.

"Now ye maun go wi' me,” she said,—
"True Thomas! ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Through weal or woe as may chance to be."

She's mounted on her milk-white steed,—
She's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, whenever her bridle rang,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.

O, they rode on, and farther on

(The steed gaed swifter than the wind), Until they reach'd a desert wide,

And living land was left behind.

"Light down, light down now, true Thomas! And lean your head upon my knee !

Abide and rest a little space!

And I will show you ferlies three.

"O, see ye not yon narrow road

So thick beset with thorns and briars?

That is the path of Righteousness,

Though after it but few inquires.

"And see ye not that braid braid road That lies across that lily leven?

That is the path of Wickedness,

Though some call it the road to heaven.

"And see not ye that bonnie road

That winds around the ferny brae ? That is the road to fair Elf-land,

Where thou and I this night maun gae.

66 But, Thomas! ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see:

For if you speak word in Elfin-land

Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie."

O, they rode on, and farther on,

And they waded through rivers aboon the knee, And they saw neither sun nor moon,

But they heard the roaring of the sea.

It was mirk mirk night, there was nae stern-light, And they waded through red blude to the knee : For a' the blude that's shed on earth

Rins through the springs o' that countrie.

Syne they came on to a garden green, And she pu'd an apple frae a tree; "Take this for thy wages, true Thomas!

It will give thee the tongue that can never lee."

"My tongue is mine ain," true Thomas said:
"A goodly gift ye wad gie to me !

I neither dought to buy nor sell
At fair or tryst where I may be.

"I dought neither speak to prince or peer,
Nor ask of grace from fair ladie."
"Now hold thy peace!" the Lady said :
"For as I say, so it must be."

He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair of shoes of velvet green :
And till seven years were gane and past

True Thomas on earth was never seen.

ΚΕΜΡΙΟΝ.

"Come here, come here, ye freely fee'd!
And lay your head low on my knee :
The heaviest weird I will you read
That ever was read to gay ladie.

“O, mickle dolour shall ye dree,

And aye the salt seas o'er ye'se swim; And far mair dolour shall ye dree

On Estmere crags, when ye them climb.

"I weird ye to a fiery beast,

And relieved ye shall never be

Till Kempion, the kingis son,

Come to the crag and thrice kiss thee."

O, mickle dolour did she dree,

And aye the salt seas o'er she swam ; And far more dolour did she dree

On Estmere crags, when she them clamb;

And aye she cried for Kempion,

Gin he would but come to her hand.

Now word has gone to Kempion,

That such a beast was in his land.

"Now, by my sooth," said Kempion,
"This fiery beast I'll gang and see!"
"And by my sooth," said Segramour,

66

My ae brother! I'll gang wi' thee."

Then bigg'd hae they a bonnie boat,
And they hae set her to the sea;
But a mile before they reach'd the shore
Round them she gar'd the red fire flee.

"O Segramour! keep the boat afloat,
And let her na the land o'er-near: