On this ane grizzlie form appear'd, An' frae the kirke wa' hied— "Ah! there's the murd'rous laird o' Pert!

The laddie tremblin' cried.

The hoary sprite was mute, an' fain
Wad flown to whence it came;
But aye's it near'd the darksome grave,
There rose a smoth'rin' flame;

An' by that flame, frae hallie kirke
The laird's rich gifts were thrown ;
While sprites of ancient kith an' kin,
Thus sang in waefu' tone-

"Sin' Heav'n denies thee an' thy wealth,

Sae surelie too shall we ;

For though thou be our ain brither,

We hate all perjurie !

"An' frae our fam'lie tomb for aye,
Thy name it shall be ta'en :

An' but in page of blude an' shame,
Nae trace o' thee'll be seen!"

Bereft of friends, an' hopes of peace,
With grief the laird was pained;
His sprite flew here, an' then flew there,
But peace it ne'er obtained;

Till frae the Esk ane frichtsome fiend,
With joyful clamour flies,

An' fondly graspt the Laird, as gin,

He'd been it's weddit prize!

An' just's they fled, a siller cloud
Drew round the guiltless boy,

That bore him frae this land of woe
To shades of heav'nlie joy!

helen of kirkconnell.

This beautiful ballad is founded on a traditionary event, the date of which cannot be satisfactorily ascertained. The locality is in the parish of Kirkpatrick-Fleming, Dumfriesshire, and the characters of the story are said to have been Helen Irving or Bell, daughter of a laird of Kirkconnell, Adam Fleming of Kirkpatrick, her accepted suitor, and a rival admirer of the heroine, whose name has escaped tradition, but who is alleged to have been a Bell of Blacket House. According to the narration of Pennant, the disfavoured lover, whose suit was approved by the young lady's family, vowed to sacrifice the successful suitor to his resentment, and watched an opportunity while the happy pair were sitting on the banks of the Kirtle, that washes these grounds. Helen perceived the desperate lover on the opposite side, and fondly thinking to save her favourite, interposed; and, receiving the wound intended for her beloved, she fell and expired in his arms. He instantly avenged her death; then fled into Spain, and served for some time against the Infidels. On his return, he visited the grave of his unfortunate mistress, stretched himself on it, and, expiring on the spot, was interred by her side. They rest in the burial-ground of Kirkconnell. A cross and a sword are engraven on the tombstone, together with these words "Hic Jacet Adamus Fleming. There are various readings of the ballad, all of them possessing rare lyrical beauty. The original, printed by Sir Walter Scott, consists of two parts: the first being so much superior to the second as to create doubts in Scott's mind regarding their original connection.

The following I consider is the best copy of the modern version :

I

I WISH I were where Helen lies!
For night and day on me she cries;
I wish I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirkconnell lee!

Curs'd be the heart that thought the thought,
And curs'd the hand that fired the shot,
When in my arms burd Helen dropt,
And died to succour me.

O think ye na my heart was sair,

When my love dropt down and spake nae mair : When she did swoon wi' meikle care,

On fair Kirkconnell lee.

As I went down the water side,
None but my foe to be my guide;
None but my foe to be my guide,
On fair Kirkconnell lee.

I lighted down, my sword did draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma';
I hacked him in pieces sma',

For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare !
I'll weave a garland o' thy hair,
And wear the same for evermair,
Until the day I dee.

Oh, that I were where Helen lies!
For night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,

Says "Haste, and come to me!"

Oh, Helen fair! oh, Helen chaste !
Were I with thee I would be blest,
Where thou lies low and takes thy rest
On fair Kirkconnell lee.

I wish my grave were growing green;
A winding-sheet drawn o'er my een,
And I in Helen's arms lying

On fair Kirkconnell lee.

I wish I were where Helen lies!
For night and day on me she cries;
I wish I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirkconnell lee!

Captain Wedderburn's Courtship.

This popular and amusing ballad is reprinted from Mr. Jamieson's text, with a few variations supplied by Mr. Kinloch.

THE Laird o' Roslin's daughter,

Walked thro' the woods her lane;
And by cam' Captain Wedderburn,
A servant to the King.
He said unto his serving man,
"Were't not against the law,
I wad tak' her to my ain bed,
And lay her neist the wa'."

"I am walking here alane," she says,
66 Amang my father's trees;
And you must let me walk alane,

Kind sir, now, if you please :
The supper bell it will be rung,
And I'll be mist awa;
Sae I winna lie in your bed,

Either at stock or wa'."

He says, "My pretty lady,

I

pray lend me your hand,

And ye'll hae drums and trumpets

Always at your command; And fifty men to guard you wi',

That well their swords can draw ;

Sae we'se baith lie in ae bed,

And ye'se lie neist the wa'."

"Haud awa frae me," she said,
"And pray let gae my hand :
The supper bell it will be rung;
I can nae langer stand;
My father he will angry be,

Gin I be mist awa;
Sae I'll nae lie in your bed,
Either at stock or wa'."

Then said the pretty lady,

"I pray tell me your name?"

'My name is Captain Wedderburn,

A servant to the king:

Though thy father and his men were here,

O' them I'd have nae awe;

But wad tak' you to my ain bed,
And lay you neist the wa'."

He lichtit aff his berry-brown steed,
And set this lady on;

And held her by the milk-white hand,

Even as they rade along;

He held her by the middle jimp,

For fear that she should fa',

To tak' her to his ain bed,

And lay her neist the wa'.