And Willie mourns o'er her in vain.
And to his mother he has gane,
That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!
He says—"My ladie has a cup,
Wi' gowd and silver set about,
This gudely gift sall be your ain,
And let her be lighter o' her young bairn."
"Of her young bairn she's never be lighter,
"Nor in her bour to shine the brighter;
"But she sall die, and turn to clay,
"And you shall wed another may."
"Another may I'll never wed,
"Another may I'll never bring hame."
But, sighing, said that weary wight—
"I wish my life were at an end!"
"Yet gae ye to your mother again,
"That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!
"And say, your ladye has a steed,
"The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed.[B]
"For he is silver shod before,
"And he is gowden shod behind;
"At every tuft of that horse mane,
"There's a golden chess[C], and a bell to ring.
"This gudely gift sall be her ain,
"And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."
"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
"Nor in her bour to shine the brighter;
"But she sall die, and turn to clay,
"And ye sall wed another may."
"Another may I'll never wed,
"Another may I'll never bring hame."
But, sighing, said that weary wight—
"I wish my life were at an end!"
"Yet gae ye to your mother again,
"That vile rank witch, o' rankest kind!
"And say, your ladye has a girdle,
"It is a' red gowd to the middle;
"And aye, at ilka siller hem
"Hang fifty siller bells and ten;
"This gudely gift sall be her ain,
"And let me be lighter o' my young bairn."
"Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
"Nor in your bour to shine the brighter;
"For she sall die, and turn to clay,
"And thou sall wed another may."
"Another may I'll never wed,
"Another may I'll never bring hame."
But, sighing, said that weary wight—
"I wish my days were at an end!"
Then out and spak the Billy Blind,[D]
(He spak ay in a gude time:)
"Yet gae ye to the market-place,
"And there do buy a loaf of wace;[E]
"Do shape it bairn and bairnly like,
"And in it twa glassen een you'll put;
"And bid her your boy's christening to,
"Then notice weel what she shall do;
"And do ye stand a little away,
"To notice weel what she may saye.
[A stanza seems to be wanting. Willie is supposed to follow
the advice of the spirit.—His mother speaks.]
"O wha has loosed the nine witch knots,
"That were amang that ladye's locks?
"And wha's ta'en out the kaims o' care,
"That were amang that ladye's hair?
"And wha has ta'en downe that bush o' woodbine,
"That hung between her bour and mine?
"And wha has kill'd the master kid,
"That ran beneath that ladye's bed?
"And wha has loosed her left foot shee,
"And let that ladye lighter be?"
Syne, Willy's loosed the nine witch knots,
That were amang that ladye's locks;
And Willy's ta'en out the kaims o' care,
That were into that ladye's hair;
And he's ta'en down the bush o' woodbine,
Hung atween her bour and the witch carline;
And he has kill'd the master kid,
That ran beneath that ladye's bed;
And he has loosed her left foot shee,
And latten that ladye lighter be;
And now he has gotten a bonny son,
And meikle grace be him upon.
[A]
Faem—The sea foam.
Faem—The sea foam.
[B]
Land o' Leed—Perhaps Lydia.
Land o' Leed—Perhaps Lydia.
[C]
Chess—Should probably bejess, the name of a hawk's bell.
Chess—Should probably bejess, the name of a hawk's bell.
[D]
Billy-Blind—A familiar genius, or propitious spirit, somewhat similar to theBrownie. He is mentioned repeatedly in Mrs Brown's Ballads, but I have not met with him any where else, although he is alluded to in the rustic game ofBogle(i.e.goblin) Billy-Blind. The word is, indeed, used in Sir David Lindsay's plays, but apparently in a different sense—"Preists sall leid you like aneBilly Blinde."PINKERTON'SScottish Poems, 1792, Vol. II. p. 232.
Billy-Blind—A familiar genius, or propitious spirit, somewhat similar to theBrownie. He is mentioned repeatedly in Mrs Brown's Ballads, but I have not met with him any where else, although he is alluded to in the rustic game ofBogle(i.e.goblin) Billy-Blind. The word is, indeed, used in Sir David Lindsay's plays, but apparently in a different sense—
"Preists sall leid you like aneBilly Blinde."
PINKERTON'SScottish Poems, 1792, Vol. II. p. 232.
[E]
Wace—Wax.
Wace—Wax.
CLERK SAUNDERS.
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.
This romantic ballad is taken from Mr Herd's MSS., with several corrections from a shorter and more imperfect copy, in the same volume, and one or two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of the stanzas. The resemblance of the conclusion to the ballad, beginning, "There came a ghost to Margaret's door," will strike every reader.—The tale is uncommonly wild and beautiful, and apparently very ancient. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many villages of Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, ringing a small bell, and announcing the death of the departed, and the time of the funeral.—The three concluding verses have been recovered since the first edition of this work; and I am informed by the reciter, that it was usual to separate from the rest, that part of the ballad which follows the death of the lovers, as belonging to another story. For this, however, there seems no necessity, as other authorities give the whole as a complete tale.
CLERK SAUNDERS.
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.
Clerk Saunders and may Margaret
Walked ower yon garden green;
And sad and heavy was the love
That fell thir twa between.
"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said,
"A bed for you and me!"
"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret,
"Till anes we married be.
"For in may come my seven bauld brothers,
"Wi' torches burning bright;
"They'll say—'We hae but ae sister,
"And behold she's wi' a knight!'
"Then take the sword frae my scabbard,
"And slowly lift the pin;
"And you may swear, and safe your aith,
"Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.
"And take a napkin in your hand,
"And tie up baith your bonny een;
"And you may swear, and safe your aith,
"Ye saw me na since late yestreen."
It was about the midnight hour,
When they asleep were laid,
When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi' torches burning red.
When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi' torches shining bright;
They said, "We hae but ae sister,
"And behold her lying with a knight!"
Then out and spake the first o' them,
"I bear the sword shall gar him die!"
And out and spake the second o' them,
"His father has nae mair than he!"
And out and spake the third o' them,
"I wot that they are lovers dear!"
And out and spake the fourth o' them,
"They hae been in love this mony a year!"
Then out and spake the fifth o' them,
"It were great sin true love to twain!"
And out and spake the sixth o' them,
"It were shame to slay a sleeping man!"
Then up and gat the seventh o' them,
And never a word spake he;
But he has striped[A]his bright brown brand
Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.
Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turned
Into his arms as asleep she lay;
And sad and silent was the night
That was atween thir twae.
And they lay still and sleeped sound,
Until the day began to daw;
And kindly to him she did say,
"It is time, true love, you were awa'."
But he lay still, and sleeped sound,
Albeit the sun began to sheen;
She looked atween her and the wa',
And dull and drowsie were his een.
Then in and came her father dear,
Said—"Let a' your mourning be:
"I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay,
"And I'll come back and comfort thee."
"Comfort weel your seven sons;
"For comforted will I never be:
"I ween 'twas neither knave nor lown
"Was in the bower last night wi' me."
The clinking bell gaed through the town,
To carry the dead corse to the clay;
And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret's window,
I wot, an hour before the day.
"Are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says,
"Or are ye waking presentlie?
"Give me my faith and troth again,
"I wot, true love, I gied to thee."
"Your faith and troth ye sall never get,
"Nor our true love sall never twin,
"Until ye come within my bower,
"And kiss me cheik and chin."
"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
"It has the smell, now, of the ground;
"And if I kiss thy comely mouth,
"Thy days of life will not be lang.
"O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight,
"I wot the wild fowls are boding day;
"Give me my faith and troth again,
"And let me fare me on my way."
"Thy faith and troth thou sall na get,
"And our true love sall never twin,
"Until ye tell what comes of women,
"I wot, who die in strong traivelling?"[B]
"Their beds are made in the heavens high,
"Down at the foot of our good lord's knee,
"Weel set about wi' gillyflowers:
"I wot sweet company for to see.
"O cocks are crowing a merry mid-night,
"I wot the wild fowl are boding day;
"The psalms of heaven will soon be sung,
"And I, ere now, will be missed away."
Then she has ta'en a crystal wand,
And she has stroken her troth thereon;
She has given it him out at the shot-window,
Wi' mony a sad sigh, and heavy groan.
"I thank ye, Marg'ret; I thank ye, Marg'ret;
"And aye I thank ye heartilie;
"Gin ever the dead come for the quick,
"Be sure, Marg'ret, I'll come for thee."
Its hosen and shoon, and gown alone,
She climbed the wall, and followed him,
Until she came to the green forest,
And there she lost the sight o' him.
"Is there ony room at your head, Saunders?
"Is there ony room at your feet?
"Or ony room at your side, Saunders,
"Where fain, fain, I wad sleep?"
"There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret,
"There's nae room at my feet;
"My bed it is full lowly now:
"Amang the hungry worms I sleep.
"Cauld mould is my covering now,
"But and my winding-sheet;
"The dew it falls nae sooner down,
"Than my resting-place is weet.