Ballad Book | Page 8

wind out of the north,?A sharp wind and a snell,?And a dead sleep came over me,?And frae my horse I fell;?The Queen of Fairies she was there,?And took me to hersell.
"And we, that live in Fairy-land,?Nae sickness know nor pain;?I quit my body when I will,?And take to it again.
"I quit my body when I please,?Or unto it repair;?We can inhabit at our ease?In either earth or air.
"Our shapes and size we can convert?To either large or small;?An old nut-shell's the same to us?As is the lofty hall.
"We sleep in rose-buds soft and sweet,?We revel in the stream;?We wanton lightly on the wind,?Or glide on a sunbeam.
"And never would I tire, Janet,?In fairy-land to dwell;?But aye, at every seven years,?They pay the teind to hell;?And I'm sae fat and fair of flesh,?I fear 'twill be mysell!
"The morn at e'en is Hallowe'en;?Our fairy court will ride,?Through England and through Scotland baith,?And through the warld sae wide,?And if that ye wad borrow me,?At Miles Cross ye maun bide.
"And ye maun gae to the Miles Cross,?Between twelve hours and one,?Tak' haly water in your hand,?And cast a compass roun'."
"But how shall I thee ken, Tamlane,?And how shall I thee knaw,?Amang the throng o' fairy folk,?The like I never saw?"
"The first court that comes alang,?Ye'll let them a' pass by;?The neist court that comes alang?Salute them reverently.
"The third court that comes alang?Is clad in robes o' green,?And it's the head court of them a',?And in it rides the Queen.
"And I upon a milk-white steed,?Wi' a gold star in my croun;?Because I am a christen'd knight?They give me that renoun.
'First let pass the black, Janet,?And syne let pass the broun,?But grip ye to the milk-white steed,?And pu' the rider doun.
"My right hand will be glov'd, Janet,?My left hand will be bare,?And thae's the tokens I gie thee;?Nae doubt I will be there.
"Ye'll seize upon me with a spring,?And to the ground I'll fa',?And then you'll hear an elrish cry?That Tamlane is awa'.
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,?An adder and a snake;?But haud me fast, let me not pass,?Gin ye would be my maik.
"They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,?An adder and an aske;?They'll turn me in your arms, Janet,?A bale that burns fast.
"They'll shape me in your arms, Janet,?A dove, but and a swan:?And last they'll shape me in your arms?A mother-naked man:?Cast your green mantle over me--?And sae shall I be wan!"
Gloomy, gloomy was the night,?And eerie was the way,?As fair Janet, in her green mantle,?To Miles Cross she did gae.
About the dead hour o' the night?She heard the bridles ring,?And Janet was as glad o' that?As ony earthly thing.
There's haly water in her hand,?She casts a compass round;?And straight she sees a fairy band?Come riding o'er the mound.
And first gaed by the black, black steed,?And then gaed by the broun;?But fast she gript the milk-white steed,?And pu'd the rider doun.
She pu'd him frae the milk-white steed,?And loot the bridle fa';?And up there raise an elrish cry;?"He's won amang us a'!"
They shaped him in fair Janet's arms?An aske, but and an adder;?She held him fast in every shape,?To be her ain true lover.
They shaped him in her arms at last?A mother-naked man,?She cuist her mantle over him,?And sae her true love wan.
Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies,?Out of a bush o' broom:?"She that has borrowed young Tamlane,?Has gotten a stately groom!"
Up then spake the Queen o' Fairies,?Out of a bush of rye:?"She's ta'en away the bonniest knight?In a' my companie!
"But had I kenned, Tamlane," she says,?"A lady wad borrow thee,?I wad hae ta'en out thy twa gray e'en,?Put in twa e'en o' tree!
"Had I but kenned, Tamlane," she says,?"Before ye came frae hame,?I wad hae ta'en out your heart of flesh,?Put in a heart o' stane!
"Had I but had the wit yestreen?That I hae coft this day,?I'd hae paid my teind seven times to hell,?Ere you'd been won away!"

TRUE THOMAS.
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;?A ferlie he spied with his e'e;?And there he saw a ladye bright,?Come riding down by the Eildon tree.
Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,?Her mantle o' the velvet fine,?At ilka tett of her horse's mane,?Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,?And louted low down to his knee;?"All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!?For thy peer on earth I never did see."
"O no, O no, Thomas," she said,?"That name does not belang to me;?I'm but the Queen of fair Elfland,?That hither am come to visit thee!
"Harp and carp, Thomas," she said,?"Harp and carp alang wi' me;?And if ye daur to kiss my lips,?Sure of your bodie I shall be!"
"Betide me weal, betide me woe,?That weird shall never daunton me!"?Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,?All underneath the Eildon tree.
"Now ye maun go wi' me," she said,?"True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;?And ye