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We loved when we were children small,

"First let pass the black, Janet, Which yet you well may mind.

And syne let pass the brown;

But grip ye to the milk-white steed, “When I was a boy just turn’d of nine,

And pu' the rider down.
My uncle sent for me,
To hunt, and hawk, and ride with him,

"For I ride on the milk-white steed, And keep him companie.

And aye nearest the town;

Because I was a christen'd knight, “There came a wind out of the north,

They gave me that renown.
A sharp wind and a snell;
And a deep sleep came over me,

“My right hand will be gloved, Janet, And frae my horse I fell.

My left hand will be bare;

And these the tokens I gie thoe, "The Queen of Fairies keppit me,

Nae doubt I wil there.
In von green hill to dwell;
And I'm a fairy, lyth and linb;

“They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, Fair ladye, view me well.

An adder and a snake;

But had me fast, let me not pass, "But we, that live in Fairy-land,

Gin ye wad buy me maik.f
No sickness know, nor pain ;
I quit my body when I will,

"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, And take to it again.

An adder and an ask;

They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, "I quit my body when I please,

A balet that burns fast.
Or unto it repair;
We can inhabit, at our case,

"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet, In either earth or air.

A red-hot gad o' airn;

But haud me fast, let me not pass, "Our shapes and size we can convert To either large or small;

For I'll do you no harm. An old nut-shell's the same to us

"First dip me in a stand o' milk, As is the lofty hall.

And then in a stand o' water;

But had me fast, let me not pass-"We sleep in rose-buds soft and sweet,

I'll be your bairn's father.
We revel in the stream;
We wanton lightly on the wind,

"And, next, they'll shape me in your arms, Or glide on a sunbeam.

A tod, but and an eel;

But had me sast, nor let me gang, "And all our wants are well supplied

As you do love me weel.
From every rich man's store,
Who thankless sins the gists he gets,

"They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, And vainly grasps for inore.*

A dove, but and a swan;

And, last, they'll shape me in your arms "Then would I never tire, Janet,

A mother-naked man: In Elfish land to dwell;

Cast your green mantle over me-
But aye, at every seven years,

I'll be myself again.”-
They pay the ieind to hell;
And I am sae fat and fair of flesh,

Gloomy, gloomy, was the night,
I fear 'twill be mysell.

And eirys was the way, “This night is Hallowe'en, Janet,

As fair Janet, in her green mantle,

To Miles Cross she did gae.
The morn is Hallowday;
And, gin ye dare your true love win,

The heavens were black, the night was dark, Yé hae nae time to stay.

And dreary was the place;

But Janet stood, with eager wish, "The night it is good Hallowe'en,

Her lover to embrace.
When fairy folk will ride;
And they that wad their true-love win,

Betwixt the hours of twelve and one,
At Miles Cross they maun bide."'-

A north wind tore the bent;

And straight she heard strange elritch sounds "But how shall I thee ken, Tamlane?

Upon that wind which went.
Or how shall I thee knaw,
Amang so many unearth ights,

About the dead hour o' the night,
The like I never saw ?"'--

She heard the bridles ring; " The first company that passes by,

And Janet was as glad o' that Say na, and let them gac;

As any earthly thing. The next company that passes by,

Their oaten pipes blew wondrous shrill, Say na, and do right sae;

The hemlock small blew clear;
The third company that passes by,

And louder notes from hemlock large,
Then I'll be ane o' thae.

And bog-reed, struck the ear;

and it's vicinity. Their memory, therefore, lived in the traditions and washing it down with entire hogsheads of liquor. To the of the country. Randolph, Earl of Murray, the renowned ne depredalion of this visiter will thy viands be exposed,' quoth the phew of Robert Bruce, had a castle at Ha' Guards, in Annan uncle, until thou shalt abandon fraud and false reckonings. The dale, and another in Peebles-shire, on the borders of the forest, monk returned in a year.

The host having turned over a new the site of which is still called Randall's Walle. Patrick of Dun leaf, and given Christian measure to his customers, was now a bar, Earl of March, is sniid, by Henry the Minstrel, to have re thriving man. When they again inspected the larder, they saw treated to Ettrick Forest, after being defeated by Wallace. the same spirit, but wofully reduced in size, and in vain attempt

* To sin our gifs or mercies, means, ungratefully to hold ing to reach at the full plates and bottles whcih stood around them in slighit esteem. The idea, that the possessions of the him ; starving, in short, like Tantalus, in the midst of plenty." wicked are most obnoxious to the depredations of evil spirits, Honest Heywood sums up the tale thus :may by illustrate l hy the following tale of a Buttery Spirit, ex

"In this discourse, far be it we should mean tracted from Thomas Heywood :"An ancient and virtuous monk came to visit his nephew, an

Spirits by meat are fatted made, or lean;

Yet certain 'tis by God's permission, they innkeeper, and after other discourse, inquired into his circumstan. ces. Mine host confiased, that although he practised all the un.

Muy, over goods extorted, bear like sway. conscionable tricks of his trade, he will still miserably poor. The

All such as studio fraud and practise evil, monk sbook bis head, and asked to see his buttery or larder. As ibey looked into il, he rendere viwale to the astonished host an

Do only starve themselves to plume the devil."

Hierarchic of the Blessed Angels, p. 377. immense goblin, whose paunch and whole appearance, bespoke his being gorget with food, and who, nevertheless, was gorman + Maik-A Match; a Companion. 1 Bale-A fagot. dizing at the inı keeper's expense, omplying whole shelves of food, $ Eiry-Producing superstitious dread.

But solemn sounds, or sober thoughts,

The heathen Soldan, or Amiral, when about to The Fairies cannot bear.

slay two lovers, relents in a similar manner :They sing, inspired with love and joy,

'Weeping, he turned his heued awai, Like skylarks in the air:

And his swerde hit fell to grounde."

Florice and Blanche fout.
Of solid sense, or thought that's grave,
You'll find no traces there.

ERLINTON.
Fair Janet stood, with mind unmoved,
The dreary heath upon;

ERLINTON had a fair daughter,
And louder, louder wax'd the sound,

I wat he weird her in a great sin, As they came riding on.

For he has built a bigly bower, Will o' Wisp before them went,

An' a' to put that lady in. Sent forth a twinkling light;

An' he has warn'd her sisters six, And soon she saw the Fairy bands

An' sac has he her brethren se'en, All riding in her sight.

Outher to watch her a' the night,

Or else to seek her morn and e'en.
And first gaed by the black black steed,
And then gaed by the brown;

She hadna been i' that bigly bower,
But fast she gript the milk-white steed,

Na not a night but barely ane, And pu'd the rider down.

Till there was Willie, her ain true love, She pa'd him frae the milk-white steed,

Chapp'd at the door, cryin', “Peace within !"And loot the bridle fa';

"O whae is this at my bower door, And up there raise an erlish* cry

That chaps sae late, or kens the gin ?''T He's won amang us a'!"

"O it is Willie, your ain true love,

I pray you rise and let me in!"
They shaped him in fair Janet's arms,
An esk,t but and an adder;

But in my bower there is a wake,
She held him fast in every shape

An' at the wake there is a wane ;** To be her bairn's father.

But I'll come to the green-wood the morn,

Whar blooms the brier, by mornin' dawn."They shaped him in her arms at last, A mother-naked man:

Then she's gane to her bed again, Sbe wrapt him in her green mantle,

Where she has layen till the cock crew thrice, And sae her true love wan!

Then she said to her sisters a,'

“Maidens, 'tis time for us to rise." Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies, Out o' a bush o' broom

She pai on her back a silken gown, *She that has borrow'd

young
Tamlane,

An' on her breast a siller pin,
Has gotten a stately groom.

An' she's ta'en a sister in ilka hand,

And to the green-wood she is gane.
Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies,
Out o' a bush o'rye-

She hadna walk'd in the green-wood, "She's ta'en awa the bonniest knight

Na not a mile but barely ane, In a' my cumpanie.

Till there was Willie, her’ain true love,

Wba frae her sisters has her ta'en. "But had I kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, “A lady wad borrow'd thee

He took her sisters by the hand, Iwad ta'en out thy twa grey een,

He kiss'd them baith, and sent them hame, Put in twa een o' tree.

An' he's ta'en his true love him behind, "Had I but kenn'd, Tamlane," she says,

And through the green wood they are gane. * Before ye came frae hame

They hadna ridden in the bonnie green-wood, I Fad ta'en out your heart o' flesh

Na not a mile but barely ane, Put in a heart o' stane.

When there came fifteen o' the boldest knights "Had I but had the wit yestreen

That ever bare flesh, blood, or bane. That I hae cofti the day

The foremost was an aged knight, Pd paid my kaneš seven times to hell

He wore the grey hair on his chin, Ere you'd been won away!"

Says, “ Yield to me thy lady bright,

An' thou shalt walk ihe woods within.”— ERLINTON.

“For me to yield my lady bright

To such an aged knight as thee,
XEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

People wad think I war ganc mad,

Or a' the courage flown frae me." This ballad is published from the collation of two

But up then spake the second knight, COPIES, obtained from recitation. It seems to be the

I wat he spake right boustouslie, rode original, or perhaps a corrupt and imperfect co

"Yield me thy life, or thy lady bright, D5, of The Child of Elle, a beautiful legendary tale, Or here the tane of us shall die.' published in the Reliqpies of Ancient Poetry.' It is sliguar that this charming ballad should have been My lady is my warld's meed: translated, or imitated, by the celebrated Bürger, My life I winna yield to nane; without acknowledgment of the English original. But if ye be men of your manhead, As the Child of Elle avowedly received corrections,

Ye'll only fight me ane by ane. we may ascribe its greatest beauties to the poetical taste of the ingenious editor. They are in ihe true

He lighted aff his milk-white steed, style of Gothic embellishment. We may compare,

An' gae his lady him by the head, for example, the following beautiful verse, with the

Say'n, "See ye dinna change your cheer, Same idea in an old romance :

Until ye see my body bleed."
"The baron stroked his dark brown cheek

He set his back unto an aik,
And tumed his face aside,

He set his feet against a stane,
To wipe away the starting tear,
He proudly strove to hide !"

a Weird her in a great sin-Placed her in danger of commit-, Child of Eue.

ting a great sin.

i Gin-The slight or trick necessary to open the door ; from • Erlisk-Elritch; ghastly. + Esk-Newt.

engine. i Caft-Bought Kane-Rent peid in kind.

** Wane-A number of people.

99

An' he has fought these fifteen men,

His lady's ta'en another mate, An' killed them a' but barely ane :

So we may mak our dinner sweet. For he has left that aged knight,

"Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, I An' a' to carry the tidings hame.

And I'll pick out his bonny blue een: When he gaed to his lady fair,

Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair, I wat he kiss'd her tenderlie;

We'll theeks our nest when it grows bare.Il “Thou art mine ain love, I have thee bought; Now we shall walk the green-wood free."

"Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane:

O’er his white banes, when they are bare,
THE TWA CORBIES.

The wind sall blaw for evermair.
This Poem was communicated to me by Charles

THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY. Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., jun. of Hoddom, as written down, from tradition, by a lady: It is a singular circumstance, that it should coincide, so very

nearly the few, to which popular tradition has ascribed

The ballad of The Douglas Tragedy is one of with the ancient dirge, called, The Three Ravens, published by Mr. Ritson, in his Ancient Songs ; and complete locality. that, at the same time, there should exist such a have been the scene of this melancholy event. There

The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirk shire, is said to difference, as to make the one appear rather a counterpart than copy of the other. In order to enable are the remains of a very ancient tower

, adjacent to the curious reader to contrast these two singular po- the farmhouse, in a wild and solitary glen, upon a ems, and to form a judgment which may be the original, torrent, named Douglas burn, which joins the YarI take the liberty of copying the English ballad from row, after passing a craggy rock, called the Douglas Mr. Ritson's Collection, omitting only the burden and craig. This wild scene, now a part of the Traquair repetition of the first line. The learned Editor states

estate, formed one of the most ancient possessions it to be given : From Ravenscroft's Melismata; Douglas, eldest son of William, the first Lord Doug

of the renowned family of Douglas; for Sir John Musical Phansies, fitting the Çitlie and Country las, is said to have sat, as baronial lord of Douglas "It will be obvious," continues Mr. Ritson, that burn, during his father's lifetime, in a parliament of this ballad is much older, not only than the date of Malcolm Canmore, held at Forfar.-GODSCROFT,

vol. i. p. 20. the book, but most of the other pieces contained in it." The music is given with the words, and adapt-cular turret at one angle, for carrying up the stair

The tower appears to have been square, with a cired to four voices :

case, and for flanking the entrance. It is said to There were three rauens sat on a tre,

have derived its name of Blackhouse from the comThey were as blacke as they might be :

plexion of the Lords of Douglas, whose swarthy hue The one of them said to his mate,

was a family attribute. But, when the high moun"Where shall we our breakfast take !!!~

tains, by which it is enclosed, were covered with

heather, which was the case till of late years, Black"Downe in yonder greene field,

house must also have merited its appellation from There lies a knight slain under his shield ;

the appearance of the scenery. "His hounds they lie downe at his feete,

From this ancient tower, Lady Margaret is said to So well they their master keepe ;

have been carried by her lover. Seven large stones, " His haukes they flie so eagerlie,

erected upon the neighbouring heights of BlackThere's no fowle dare come bim nie.

house, are shown, as marking the spot where the

seven brethren were slain; and the Douglas burn is "Down there comes a fallow doo,

averred to have been the stream, at which the lovers As great with yong as she might goe.

stopped to drink; so minute is tradition in ascerShe lift up his bloudy hed,

taining the scene of a tragical tale, which, considerAnd kist his wounds that were so red.

ing the rude state of former times, had probably

foundation in some real event.
"She got him up upon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.

Many copies of this ballad are current among the

vulgar, but chiefly in a state of great corruption ; es"Sbe buried him before the prime,

pecially such as have been committed to the press in She was dead herselfo ere euen song time.

the shape of penny pamphlets. One of these is now God send euery gentleman,

which, among many others, has the ridiSuch haukes, such houndes, and such a leman."

culous error of blue gilded horn,” for bugelet Ancient Songs, 1792, p. 155.

horn." The copy, principally used in this edition of I have seen a copy of this dirge much modernized. the ballad, was supplied by Mr. Sharpe. I The

three last verses are given from the printed copy, The Twa Corbies. *

and from tradition. The hackneyed verse, of the rose

and the brier springing from the grave of the lovers, As I was walking all alane,

is common to most tragic ballads; but it is introI heard twa corbies making a mane;

duced into this with singular propriety, as the chapel The tane unto the t'other say,

of St. Mary, whose vestiges may be still traced upon "Where sall we gang and díne to-day.”

the lake to which it has given name, is said to have

been the burial-place of Lord William and Fair Mar“In behint yon auld failt dyke,

garet. The wrath of the Black Douglas, which I wot their lies a new-slain knight;

vented itself upon the brier, far surpasses the usual And naebody kens that he lies there,

stanza:But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

At length came the clerk of the parish,

As you the truth shall hear, "His hound is to the hunting gane,

And by mischance he cut them down. His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame,

Or else they had still been there."**

known than in that short parabolical dialogue. That the original ("* Any person who has read the Minstrelsy of the Scottish

is not improved in the following ballad, ("Sir David Grame,') will Border with attention, must have observed what a singular de too manifestly appear upon perusal. I think it, however, but just gree of interest and feeling the simple ballnd of 'The Twa Cor. to acknowledge, that the idea was suggested to me by reading the bies' impresses upon the mind, which is rather increased than di 'Twa Corbics.' --Hogo's Mountain Bard, third edition, p. 4.minished by the unfinished state in which the story is left. It ED.) appears as if the hard had found his powers of description inade + Fail-Turf. 1 Hause-Neck.

$ Theek-Thatch. quate to a detail of the circumstances attending the fatal catastro Various readingpbe, without suffering the interest already roused to subside, and

"We'll theek our nest-it's a' blawn bare." had artfully consigned it over to the fancy of every reader to paint I (Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq.) it what way be chose ; or else that he lamented the untimely fate of a knight, whose base treatment he durst not otherwise make rials for this work, the farm of Blackhouse was tenanted by the

** [At the time when Sir Walter Scott was collecting the mate

before me,

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THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY.

The Douglas TRAGEDY.
"Rise up, rise up, now, Lord Douglas," she says,

And put on your armour so bright;
Let it never be said that a daughter of thine

Was married to a lord under night.
Rige

rise

Lord bi

"Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,

And put on your armour so bright,
And take better care of your younger sister,

For your eldest's awa' the last night."-
He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,

And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,

And lightly they rode away.
Lord William lookit o'er his left shoulder,

To see what he could see,
And there he spy'd her seven brethren bold,

Come riding o'er the lee.
Douglasa, she says, And put on your armour Bo

"Light down, light down, Lady Marg’ret,” he said, bo

And hold my stecd in your hand,

Until that against your seven brethren bold,
g

And your father, I make a stand.”.
She held his steed in her milk-white hand,

And never shed one tear,
Until that she saw her seven brethren fa',

And her father hard fighting, who lov'd her so dear. "O hold your hand, Lord William !" she said,

' For your strokes they are wondrous sair ;
True lovers I can get many a ane,,

But a father I can never get mair."-
O, she's ta'en out her handkerchief,

It was of the holland sae fine,
bright,

And aye she dighted* her father's bloody wounds,

That were redder than the wine.
"O chuse, O chuse, Lady Margʻret," he said,

“O whether will ye gang or bide ?"-
“I'll gang, I'll gang, Lord William,” she said,

"For you have left me no other guide."
He's lifted her on a milk-white steed,

And himself on a dapple grey,
With a bugelet horn hung down by his side,

And slowly they baith rade away.
O they rade on, and on they rade,

And a' by the light of the moon,

Until they came to yon wan water,
danghter of

And there they lighted down.
They lighted down to tak a drink

Of the spring that ran sae clear :
And down the stream ran his gude heart's blood,

And sare she 'gan to fear.
"Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she says,

"For I fear that you are slain !" b

“ 'Tis nacthing but the shadow of my scarlet cloak,

That shines in the water sae plain.'

O they rade on, and on they rade,
b

And a' by the light of the moon,
Until they cam to his mother's ha' door,

And there they lighted down.
night,

" Get up, get up, lady mother,” he says,

“Get up, and let me in !--
Get up, get up, lady mother," he says,

" For this night my fair lady I've win.
"O mak my bed, lady mother," he says,

O mak it braid and deep !
And lay Lady Marg’ret close at my back

And the sounder I will sleep."

Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, Father of his attached friend, and in latter days factor, (or land Lady Marg'ret lang ere daydeward, Mr. William Laidlaw. James Horg was shepherd on And all true lovers that go thegither, the same farm, and in the course of one of his exploring rides up the clin of Yarrow. Sir Walter made acquaintance with young

May they have mair luck than they! Laidlaw and the "Mountain Bard," who both thenceforth la. boured with congenial zeal in behalf of his undertaking.--ED.)

* Dighied-Wiped.

thine Was married to a Lord under

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Lord William was buried in St. Marie's kirk,

YOUNG BENJIE.
Lady Marg'ret in Marie's quire;
Out o''the lady's grave grew a bonny red rose,

OF a' the maids o’ fair Scotland,
And out of the knight's a brier.

The fairest was Marjorie;

And young Benjie was her ae true love,
And they twa met, and they twa plat,

And a dear true love was he.
And fain they wad be near :
And a' the warld might ken right weel,

And wow but they were lovers dear,
They were twa lovers dear.

And loved fu' constantlie;

But aye the mair when they fell out,
But bye and rade the Black Douglas,

The sairer was their plea.
And vow but he was rough !
For be pull'd up the bonny brier,

And they hae quarrell’d on a day,
And Hang'd in St. Marie's Loch.*

Till Marjorie's heart grew wae;
And she said she'd chuse another luve,

And let young Benjie gae.

And he was stout, $ and proud-hearted,
YOUNG BENJIE.

And thought o'i bitterlie;

And he's gane by the wan moonlight,
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.

To meet his Marjorie.
In this ballad the reader will find traces of a sin "O open, open, my true love,
gular superstition, not yet altogether discredited in O open, and let me in!"'-
the wilder parts of Scotland. The lkyewake, or “I darena open, young Benjie,
watching a dead body, in itself a melancholy of My three brothers are within."
fice, is rendered, in the idea of the assistants, more
dismally awful, by the mysterious horrors of super-

"Ye lied, ye lied, ye bonny burd,

Sae loud's I hear ye lie; stition. In the interval betwixt death and interment,

As I came by the Lowden banks, the disembodied spirit is supposed to hover around its mortal habitation, and, if invoked by certain

They bade gude e'en to me. rites, retains the power of communicating, through "But fare ye weel, my ae fause love its organs, the cause of its dissolution. Such in That I have loved sae lang! quiries, however, are always dangerous, and never It sets yell chuse another love, to be resorted to, unless the deceased is suspected to And let young Benjie gang." have suffered foul play, as it is called. It is the more unsafe to tamper with this charm in an unau

Then Marjorie turn'd her round about, thorized manner, because the inhabitants of the in

The tear blinding her ee, fernal regions are, at such periods, peculiarly active.

“I darena, darena let thee in, One of the most potent ceremonies in the charm,

But I'll come down to thee." for causing the dead body to speak, is, setting the Then saft she smiled, and said to him, door ajar, or half open. On this account, the pea

O what ill hae I done?"'sants of Scotland sedulously avoid leaving the door He took her in his armis twa, ajar, while a corpse lies in the house. The door

And threw her o'er the linn. must either be left wide open, or quite shut; but the first is always preferred, on account of the exercise The stream was strang, the maid was stout, of hospitality usual on such occasions. The at And laith laith to be dang, tendants must be likewise careful never to leave the But, ere she wan the Lowden banks, corpse for a moment alone, or, if it is left alone, to Her fair colour was wan. avoid, with a degree of superstitious horror, the first

Then up bespak her eldest brother, sight of it. The following story, which is frequently related by

"O see na ye what I see ?" -the peasants of Scotland, will illustrate the imagina

And out then spak her second brother, ry danger of leaving the door ajar. In former times,

“It's our sister Marjorie !"'-a man and his wife lived in a solitary cottage, on one Out then spak her eldest brother, of the extensive Border fells. One day the husband "O how shall we her ken ?!? — died suddenly; and his wife, who was equally afraid And out then spak her youngest brother, of staying alone by the corpse, or leaving the dead

“There's a honey mark on her chin."body by itself, repeatedly went to the door, and looked anxiously over the lonely moor for the sight of

Then they've ta'en up the comely corpse, some person approaching. In her confusion and And laid it on the groundalarm she accidentally left the door ajar, when the

"O wha has killed our ae sister, corpse suddenly started up, and sat in the bed, frown And how can he be found ? ing and grinning at her frightfully. She sat alone,

"The night it is her low lykewake, crying bitterly, unable to avoid the fascination of

The morn her burial day, the dead man's eye, and too much terrified to break the sullen silence, till a Catholic priest, passing over

And we maun watch at mirk midnight,

And hear what she will say.". the wild, entered the cottage. He first set the door quite open, then put his little finger in his mouth, and Wi' doors ajar, and candle light, said the paternoster backwards; when the horrid And torches burning clear, look of the corpse relaxed, it fell back on the bed, The streikit corpse, till still midnight, and behaved itself as a dead man ought to do.

They waked, but naething hear. The ballad is given from tradition. I have been

About the middle o' the night, informed by a lady,t of the highest literary eminence, that she has heard a ballad on the same subject, in

The cocks began to craw;

And at the dead hour o' the night, which the scene was laid upon the banks of the Clyde. The chorus was,

The corpse began to thraw.

“O whae has done the wrang, sister, O Bothwell banks bloom bonny,"

Or dared the deadly sin ? and the watching of the dead corpse was said to Whae was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout, have taken place in Both well church.

As thraw ye o'er the linn ?". * (Mr. Motherwell gives in his " Minstrelsy;" 1827, a copy of 1 Plea-Uved obliqucly for dispute. this ballad, as usually recited in the West of Scotland, but the $ Stout, through this whole ballad, except in one instance variations it supplies are trivial, and all for the worse. ED) (stanza 10,) signifies haughty.

+ (Miss Joanna Baillie-who was born at Long Calderwood, 1 Sets ye-Becomes you--ironical. near Bothwell.-ED.)

| Dang-Defeated.

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