Then he's rode on frae his lady fair,
Nought reeking what that lady faid,
And he's rode by the wells of Stane,
Where washing was a bonnie maid.

"Wash on! Wafh on! my bonnie may!
"Sae clean ye wash
I
fark of filk."-
"And weel fa you, fair gentle knight,

your

"Whose skin is whiter far than milk !"

He has ta'en her by the lilly hand,

He has ta'en her by the grafs-green sleeve,
And thrice has pried her bonnie mou,3.
Nor of his lady speered he leave.4

Soon as his mouth her lip had press'd,

His heart was filled with doubt and dread;
"Ohan! and alas !" Clerk Colvin fays,
"Ohan, and alas! What pains my head?"—

5

"Sir Knight, now take your little penknife,
"And frae my fark ye's cut a gare;
"Row that around your face so pale,

6

"And o' the pain ye'll feel na mair.” 7

Syne out has he ta'en his little penknife,
And frae her fark he cut a gare,

He row'd in around his face so pale,

But the pain increased still mair and mair.

Then out, and spake the knight again,
"Alas! more fairly throbs my head!".

And merrily did the mermaid laugh,

2 till

He has drawn out his trufty blade,

ye be dead!"

All for to kill her where the ftood,
But fhe was changed to a monstrous fish,
And quickly sprang into the flood.

He has mounted on his berry-brown fteed,
And dowie, 3 dowie, on he rides,

Till he has reach'd Dunallan's towers,
And there his mother dear refides.

"Oh! mother, mother, make my bed,
"And lay me down, my fair la-dye;
"And brother dear, unbend my bow,
" "Twill never more be bent by me !".

* Syne, then.

2 Be wae, be painful.

3 Dorie, swiftly.

His mother, fhe has made his bed,

She has laid him down, his fair la-dye;

His brother has unbent his bow,

And death has closed Clerk Colvin's eë! 1

1

1 Eë, eye.

There is a great refemblance between this old Scotch Ballad, and the Danish tradition of "the Eri King's Daughter.”.

VOL. II.

No. LVII.

WILLY'S LADY.

WILLY's gone over the falt fea foam,

He has married a wife, and brought her home;
He wooed her for her yellow hair,

But his mither wrought her mickle çare ;
And mickle dolour fuffers fhe,

For lighter fhe can never be ;
But in her bour she fits wi' pain,
And Willy mourns over her in vain.

Then to his mither he speaks his mind,
That vile rank witch of fouleft kind;
He fays" my ladye has a cup,
"With gold and filver all set up,
"The handles are of the ivory bones,

And all fet round wi' fparkling stones;

"This gudely gift she'll give to thee,
"If of her young bairn fhe may lighter be.”—

*. e. Brought to bed.

." Of

"Of her young bairn fhall fhe never be lighter,

"Nor in her bour to fhine the brighter,

"But fhe fhall die, and turn to clay,

"And you fhall wed another may.' "Another may I'll never wed, "Another may I'll never bed !"Then forely did that lady figh,

"I wish my hour of death were nigh!

Yet fpeak ye again to your mither your mind, "That foul rank witch of cruel kind,

"And fay your lady has a steed,

"The like of him 's not in the land of Leed:
"Of that horfe's main at every tress,
"There's a filver bell and a golden jefs,
"This gudely gift I'll give her with glee,

"If of my young bairn I may lighter be."

"Of her young bairn fhall fhe never be lighter, "Nor in her bour to fhine the brighter;

"But fhe fhall die and turn to clay,

"And fhall wed another may."

you

-"Another may I'll never wed,
"Another may I'll never bed!"-
Then evermore figh'd that ladye bright,
"I wish my day had reach'd its night."-

With that arofe the Billy Blynde, †
And in good tyme fpake he his mind,

02

-"Yet

*May, maiden.

A familiar fpirit, or good genius.