L'Enboy. TO THE READER. WHY then a final note prolong, A garland for the hero's crest, And twined by her he loves the best. What can I wish but faithful knight? What can I wish but lady true? To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light! THOMAS THE RHYMER. PART FIRST. Ancient. TRUE THOMAS lay on Huntlie bank; Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne; True Thomas, he pulled aff his cap, 'All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven! For thy peer on earth I never did see.' 'Oh no, oh no, Thomas,' she said, 'Harp and carp, Thomas,' she said; Sure of your bodie I will be.' 'Betide me weal, betide me woe, '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 mounted on her milk-white steed; Oh, they rade on, and farther on; The steed gaed swifter than the wind; Until they reached 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 there. 'Oh, see ye not yon narrow road, So thick beset with thorns and briers? That is the path of righteousness, Though after it but few enquires. '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 bonny road, That winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae. 'But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see; For, if ye speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie.' Oh, they rade 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, and 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, It will give thee the tongue that can never lee.' 'My tongue is mine ain,' true Thomas said; I neither dought to buy nor sell, I dought neither speak to prince or peer, Nor ask of grace from fair ladye.' 'Now hold thy peace!' the lady said, 'For as I say, so must it be.' He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, PART SECOND. Altered from Ancient Prophecies. WHEN seven years were come and gane, The sun blinked fair on pool and stream; And Thomas lay on Huntlie Bank, Like one awakened from a dream. He heard the trampling of a steed, Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. He was a stalwart knight, and strong; Says 'Well met, well met, true Thomas! 'Light down, light down, Corspatrick brave! 'A storm shall roar this very hour, 'Ye lied, ye lied, ye warlock hoar, For the sun shines sweet on fauld and lea," |