To dance thir damsellis them dight,
Thir lasses light of laits,

Their gloves were of the raffel right,

Their shoon were of the Straits,
Their kirtles were of Lincoln light,
Weel prest with many plaits,

They were so nice when men them nicht,
They squealit like ony gaits

Sa loud

At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day.

Of all thir maidens mild as mead,

Was nane so jimp as Gillie,

As ony rose her rood was red,

Her lyre was like the lily.

flaunted

manners

deerskin

shoes, morocco

nearéd

goats

sinart

complexion

bosom

Fu' yellow, yellow was her head,

But she of love was silly;

Though all her kin had sworn her dead,
She would have but sweet Willie

Alane,

At Christ's Kirk of the Green that day.

Blind Harry.

death

About 1450.

Or this Scottish minstrel poet little is known, but that he was blind from his earliest years, and that he gained his living by reciting and singing his compositions before company. "The Adventures of Sir William Wallace," written about 1450, is still a great favourite with the Scottish peasantry, who regard it as the trumpet-note of liberty, a modernised Scotch version having been made some time ago by Hamilton of Gilbertfield. It was the study of this work which had such an effect in kindling the genius of Burns. The poem is evidently founded on the traditions current at that time, a century and half after the times of Wallace.

WALLACE FISHING IN IRVINE WATER.

So on a time he desired to play

In Aperil the three-and-twenty day,

Till Irvine water fish to tak he went,

Sic fantasy fell in his intent.

To lead his net a child furth with him yede ;

But he, or noon, was in a fellon dread.

His swerd he left, so did he never again;

It did him gude, suppose he suffered pain.
Of that labour as than he was not slie,

went

ere, fearful

craft

Happy he was, took fish abundantly.
Or of the day ten hours o'er couth pass.
Ridand there came, near by where Wallace was,
The Lord Percy, was captain than of Ayr;
Frae then' he turned, and couth to Glasgow fare.
Part of the court had Wallace' labour seen,
Till him rade five, clad into ganand green,

And said soon: 'Scot, Martin's fish we wald have!'
Wallace meekly again answer him gave:

6

,

could

riding

sport

more

go

go

It were reason, methink, ye should have part, Waith should be dealt, in all place, with free heart.' He bade his child, 'Give them of our waithing.' The Southron said; As now of thy dealing We will not tak; thou wald give us o'er small.' He lighted down and frae the child took all. Wallace said then: Gentlemen gif ye be, Leave us some part, we pray for charity. Ane aged knight serves our lady to-day : Gude friend, leave part, and tak not all away,' "Thou shall have leave to fish, and tak thee mae, All this forsooth shall in our flitting gae. We serve a lord; this fish shall till him gang.' Wallace answered, said: "Thou art in the wrang.' 'Wham thous thou, Scot? in faith thou 'serves a blaw.' blow Till him he ran, and out a swerd gan draw. William was wae he had nae wappins there But the poutstaff, the whilk in hand he bare. Wallace with it fast on the cheek him took, With sae gude will, while of his feet he shook. The swerd flew frae him a fur-breid on the land. Wallace was glad, and hint it soon in hand; And with the swerd awkward he him gave Under the hat, his craig in sunder drave. By that the lave lighted about Wallace, He had no help, only but God's grace. On either side full fast on him they dang, Great peril was gif they had lasted lang. Upon the head in great ire he strak ane; The shearand swerd glade to the collar bane. Ane other on the arm he hit so hardily, While hand and swerd baith in the field gan lie. The tother twa fled to their horse again; He stickit him was last upon the plain.

sorry fishing-rod

seized

Three slew he there, twa fled with all their might
After their lord; but he was out of sight,
Takand the muir, or he and they couth twine.
Till him they rade anon, or they wald blin,
And cryjt: 'Lord abide; your men are martyred down
Right cruelly, here in this false region.
Five of our court here at the water bade,
Fish for to bring, though it nae profit made.
We are scaped, but in field slain are three.'
The lord speirit: How mony might they be?'
'We saw but ane that has discomfist us all.'
Then leugh he loud, and said: 'Foul mot you
Sin' ane you all has put to confusion.
Wha meins it maist the devil of hell him drown!
This day for me, in faith, he bees not sought.'
When Wallace thus this worthy wark had wrought,
Their horse he took, and gear that left was there,
Gave ower that craft, he yede to fish nae mair.

Richard Sheale.

fall!

ere

stop

tarried

asked

gooda

went

About 1420

to 1460.

THE author of this remarkable ballad is Richard Sheale, an Englishman, but the date is unknown. This modernised version was made about

1420 to 1460.

CHEVY-CHASE.

GOD prosper long our noble king,

Our lives and safeties all;

A woful hunting once there did

In Chevy-Chase befall.

The Cheviot Hills

To drive the deer with hound and horn

Earl Percy took his way;

The child may rue that is unborn

The hunting of that day.

The stout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three summer days to take;
The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chase
To kill and bear away.

These tidings to Earl Douglas came,
In Scotland where he lay :

Who sent Earl Percy present word
He would prevent his sport.
The English Earl, not fearing that,
Did to the woods resort

With fifteen hundred bowmen bold,
All chosen men of might,

Who knew full well in time of need
To aim their shafts aright.
The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran
To chase the fallow deer:
On Monday they began to hunt,
When daylight did appear;

And long before high noon they had
A hundred fat bucks slain;
Then having dined, the drovers went
To rouse the deer again.

The bowmen mustered on the hills,
Well able to endure;

And all their rear, with special care,

That day was guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,

The nimble deer to take;

That with their cries the hills and dales
An echo shrill did make.

Lord Percy to the quarry went,

To view the slaughtered deer;
Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised
This day to meet me here:

But if I thought he would not come,
No longer would I stay;"

With that a brave young gentleman
Thus to the Earl did say:

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come,
His men in armour bright;
Full twenty hundred Scottish spears
All marching in our sight;

All men of pleasant Teviotdale,

Fast by the river Tweed:"

"Then cease your sports," Earl Percy said, "And take your bows with speed:

And now with me my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
For never was there champion yet,
In Scotland or in France,

That ever did on horseback come,
But if my hap it were,

I durst encounter man for man,
With him to break a spear."

Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed,
Most like a baron bold,

Rode foremost of his company,

Whose armour shone like gold.

"Show me," said he, "whose men you be, That hunt so boldly here,

That, without my consent, do chase

And kill my fallow-deer."

The first man that did answer make,
Was noble Percy he;

Who said, "We list not to declare,
Nor show whose men we be :

Yet will we spend our dearest blood,
Thy chiefest harts to slay."
Then Douglas swore a solemn oath,
And thus in rage did say--

"Ere thus I will out-braved be,
One of us two shall die:

I know thee well, an earl thou art,
Lord Percy, so am I.

But trust me, Percy, pity it were,
And great offence to kill
Any of these our guiltless men,
For they have done no ill.

Let you and me the battle try,
And set our men aside."
"Accursed be he," Earl Percy said.
"By whom this is denied."

Then stepped a gallant squire fortli,
Witherington was his name,

Who said, "I would not have it told

To Henry, our king, for shame,

B