Ballad Book | Page 9

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 maun serve me seven years,
Through weal or woe as
may chance to be."
She's mounted on her milk-white steed,
She's ta'en True Thomas up
behind;
And aye, whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed gaed swifter
than the wind.
O they rade on, and further on,
The steed gaed swifter than the wind;

Until they reached a desert wide,
And living land was left behind.
"Light down, light down now, Thomas," she said,
"And lean your
head upon my knee;
Light down, and rest a little space,
And I will
show you ferlies three.
"O see ye na that braid braid road,
That stretches o'er the lily leven?

That is the path of wickedness,
Though some call it the road to
heaven.
"And see ye na yon narrow road,
Sae thick beset wi' thorns and briers?

That is the path of righteousness,
Though after it but few enquires.

"And see ye na yon bonny road,
That winds about the ferny brae?

That is the way to fair Elfland,
Where you and I this night maun gae.
"But, Thomas, ye maun hauld your tongue,
Whatever you may hear
or see;
For if ye speak word in Elfin land,
Ye'll ne'er win back to
your ain countrie!"
O they rade on, and further on,
And they waded through rivers aboon
the knee,
And they saw neither sun nor moon,
But they heard the
roaring of a sea.
It was mirk mirk night, there was nae stern-light,
And they waded
through red blude to the knee;
For a' the blude that's shed on earth,

Kins through the springs o' that countrie.
Syne they came to a garden green,
And she pu'd an apple frae a tree--

"Take this for thy wages, True Thomas;
It will give thee the tongue
that can never lie!"
"My tongue is my ain!" True Thomas he said,
"A gudely gift ye wad
gie to me!
I neither douglit to buy nor sell,
At fair or tryste where I
may be.
"I dought neither speak to prince nor peer,
Nor ask for grace from fair
ladye!"
"Now hauld thy tongue, Thomas!" she said
"For as I say, so
must it be."
He has gotten a coat of the even claith,
And a pair o' shoon of the
velvet green;
And till seven years were come and gane,
True
Thomas on earth was never seen.

THE ELFIN KNIGHT.
The Elfin knight stands on yon hill;
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)


Blawing his horn baith loud and shrill,
(And the wind has blawn
my plaid awa'.)
"If I had the horn that I hear blawn,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

And the bonnie knight that blaws the horn!"
(And the wind has
blawn my plaid awa'.)
She had na sooner thae words said;
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

Than the Elfin knight cam' to her side:
(And the wind has blawn
my plaid awa'.)
"Thou art too young a maid," quoth he,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds,
blaw,)
"Married wi' me you ill wad be."
(And the wind has blawn
my plaid awa'.)
"I hae a sister younger than me;
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

And she was married yesterday."
(And the wind has blawn my plaid
awa'.)
"Married to me ye shall be nane;
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

Till ye mak' me a sark without a seam;
(And the wind has blawn my
plaid awa'.)
"And ye maun shape it, knifeless, sheerless,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds,
blaw,)
And ye maun sew it, needle-threedless;
(And the wind has
blawn my plaid awa'.)
"And ye maun wash it within a well,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

Whaur dew never wat, nor rain ever fell,
(And the wind has blawn
my plaid awa'.)
"And ye maun dry it upon a thorn,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

That never budded sin' Adam was born."
(And the wind has blawn
my plaid awa'.)
"O gin that kindness I do for thee;
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)


There's something ye maun do for me.
(And the wind has blawn my
plaid awa'.)
"I hae an acre o' gude lea-land,
(Blaw, blaw, blaw winds, blaw,)

Between the saut sea