The forlorn son, when he repented,
Obtained his father's full remission."

"I spared my judgments many times,
And spiritual pastors did thee send ;
But thou renewd'st thy former crimes,
Aye more and more me to offend."

"My Lord," quoth she, "I do amend,
Lamenting for my former vice-
The poor thief at the latter end
For one word went to Paradise."

"The thief heard never of my teaching,
My heavenly precepts and my laws,
But thou wast daily at my preachings
Both heard and saw, and yet miscaws."

66

'Master," quoth she, "the Scripture shows, The Jewish woman which play'd the lown, Conform unto the Hebrew laws,

Was brought to thee to be put down,

But nevertheless thou let her go,

And made the Pharisees afraid."

"Indeed," says Christ, "it was right so,

And that my bidding was obey'd.
Woman," he said, "I may not cast
The children's bread to dogs like thee
Although my mercies yet do last,

There's mercy here, bnt none for thee."
"But, loving Lord, may I presume,
that I may speak again?
The dogs for hunger were undone,

Poor worm,

And of the crumbs they were right fain-
Grant me one crumb then that doth fall

From thy best children's table, Lord,
That I may be refreshed withal,

It will me help enough afford."

"The gates of mercy now are closed, And thou canst hardly enter in

It is not so as thou supposed,

For thou art deadly sick in sin."

"'Tis true indeed, my Lord most meek—

My sore and sickness I do feel

Yet thou the lame didst truly seek,

Who lay long at Bethsaida's pool,

Of many that thee never sought—
Like to the poor Samaritan,
Whom thou unto thy fold hast brought,
Even as thou didst the widow of Nain.
Most gracious God, didst thou not bid
All that were weary come to thee?
Behold, I come! even overload
With sin; have mercy upon me!"

"The issues of thy soul are great, Thou art both leprous and unclean, To be with me thou art not fit,

Go from me then, let me alone."

"Let me thy garments once but touch,

My bloody issue shall be whole,
It will not cost thee very much

To save a poor distresséd soul.

Speak thou the word, I shall be whole,
One look of thee shall do me good,

Save now, good Lord, my silly soul,

Bought with thine own most precious blood-Sweet Lord, my God, say me not nay,

For if I perish here I'll die."

"Poor silly wretch, then speak no more Thy faith, poor soul, hath savéd thee;

Enter thou into my glore,

And rest throu' all eternity!"

How soon our Saviour these words said,

A long white robe to her was given;
And then the angels did her lead,
Forthwith within the gates of heaven;

A laurel crown set on her head,
Spangled with rubies and with gold;
A bright white palm she also had,
Glorious it was for to behold;

Her face did shine like to the sun,
Like threads of gold her hair hang down;
Her eyes like lamps unto the moon,
Of precious stones rich was her crown,
Angels and Saints did welcome her,
The heavenly choir did sing, rejoice;
King David with his harp was there ;
The silver bells gave a great noise.

Such music and such melody

Was never either heard or seen,

When this poor saint was placed so high,
And of all sins made freely clean;
But then when thus she was possest,
And looked back on all her fears;
And that she was come to her rest,
Free'd from all sins, and all her tears,
She from her head did take the crown,
Giving all praise to Christ on high,
And at his feet she laid it down,

For that the Lamb had made her free.
Now doth she sing triumphantly,

And shall rejoice for evermore,
O'er death and hell victoriously
With lasting pleasures laid in store.

Of WIFE OF BEITH I make an end,
And do these lines with this conclude-
Let none their lives in sin now spend,
But watch and pray, be doing good;
Despondent souls, do not despair—
Repent, and still believe in Christ;
His mercies, which last for evermore,
Will save the souls that in Him trust.

Р

Edom o' Gordon.

Many versions are extant of this graphic and melancholy ballad, which is founded on a real event which took place in the north of Scotland in the year 1571, during the struggles between the party who held out for the imprisoned Queen Mary, and those who maintained the authority of her infant son, James VI. The person here designated "Edom o' Gordon," was Adam Gordon of Auchindown, brother and deputy of the Marquis of Huntly. Gordon committed many acts of oppression on the Clan Forbes, under colour of the Queen's authority; and, in one collision with that family, killed Arthur, brother to Lord Forbes. He gained also several successes over the neighbours and feudal enemies of the Gordons, but the chronicler of the history of King James VI. remarks of him that, "what glory and renown he obtained by these victories were all casten down by the infamy of his next attempt; for immediately after his last conflict he directed his soldiers to the Castle of Towie, desiring the house to be rendered to him in the Queen's name, which was obstinately refused by the lady, and she burst forth with certain injurious words, and the soldiers being impatient, by command of their leader, Captain Ker, fire was put to the house, wherein she and the number of twenty-seven persons were cruelly burnt to the death." The ballad was first printed by Lord Hailes in 1755 from the recitation of a lady at Glasgow. It was afterwards given by Percy in his Reliques with some alterations from his old MS. "The author of Edom o' Gordon' had no theories of art," says a recent writer. 'He uttered only what he saw and felt, but what words could add to that picture of the burning tower, the unutterable sigh of the mother for 'a'e blast o' the western wind,' and the mute reproach of the face on the grass, more terrible to the marauder than the gleam of hostile spears?"

IT fell about the Martimas,

·

When the wind blew shrill and cauld,

Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,

"We maun draw till a hauld.

66

"And whatna hauld shall we draw till,
My merrie men and me?

We will gae to the house o' the Rodes
To see that fair ladye."

The ladye stude on her castle wa',

Beheld baith dale and doun;

There she was ware o' a host o' men

Cam' riding towards the toun.

*

"O see ye not my merrie men a',

O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host o' men-
I marvel wha they be."

She ween'd it had been her ain dear lord
As he cam' riding hame;

It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon,

Wha reck'd nae sin nor shame.

She had nae suner buskit hersel',
And putten on her gown,

Till Edom o' Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.

They had nae suner supper set,
Nae suner said the grace,

Till Edom o' Gordon and his men
Were closed about the place.

The ladye ran to her tower head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if, by her fair speeches,
She could wi' him agree.

*This word in Scotland signifies not only a city or town, but a farm steading or residence.