Elves and Heroes | Page 7

convoy'd me o'er the moor!?When I was all so helpless and my heart was full of fear,?Nor when it was beside me or behind me was I sure--?I knew it would be following--I knew it would be near!
THE NIMBLE MEN.
(AURORA BOREALIS.)
When Angus Ore, the wizard,?His fearsome wand will raise,?The night is filled with splendour,?And the north is all ablaze;?From clouds of raven blackness,?Like flames that leap on high--?All merrily dance the Nimble Men across the Northern Sky.
Now come the Merry Maidens,?All gowned in white and green,?While the bold and ruddy fellows?Will be flitting in between--?O to hear the fairy piper?Who will keep them tripping by!--?The men and maids who merrily dance across the Northern Sky.
O the weird and waesome music,?And the never-faltering feet!?O their fast and strong embraces,?And their kisses hot and sweet!?There's a lost and languished lover?With a fierce and jealous eye,?As merrily flit the Nimble Folk across the Northern Sky.
So now the dance is over,
And the dancers sink to rest--?There's a maid that has two lovers,?And there's one she loves the best;?He will cast him down before her,?She will raise him with a sigh--?Her love so bright who danced to-night across the Northern Sky.
Then up will leap the other,?And up will leap his clan--?O the lover and his company?Will fight them man to man--?All shrieking from the conflict?The merry maidens fly--?There's a Battle Royal raging now across the Northern Sky.
Through all the hours of darkness?The fearsome fight will last;?They are leaping white with anger,?And the blows are falling fast--?And where the slain have tumbled?A pool of blood will lie--?O it's dripping on the dark green stones from out the Northern Sky.
When yon lady seeks her lover?In the cold and pearly morn,?She will find that he has fallen?By the hand that she would scorn,--?She will clasp her arms about him,?And in her anguish die!--?O never again will trip the twain across the Northern Sky.
MY GUNNA.
When my kine are on the hill,?Who will charm them from all ill??While I'll sleep at ease until?All the cocks are crowing clear.?Who'll be herding them for me??It's the elf I fain would see--?For they're safe as safe can be?When the Gunna will be near.
He will watch the long weird night,?When the stars will shake with fright,?Or the ghostly moon leaps bright?O'er the ben like Beltane fire.?If my kine would seek the corn,?He will turn them by the horn--?And I'll find them all at morn?Lowing sweet beside the byre.
Croumba's bard has second-sight,?And he'll moan the Gunna's plight,?When the frosts are flickering white,?And the kine are housed till day;?For he'll see him perched alone?On a chilly old grey stone,?Nibbling, nibbling at a bone?That we'll maybe throw away.
He's so hungry, he's so thin,?If he'd come we'd let him in,?For a rag of fox's skin?Is the only thing he'll wear.?He'll be chittering in the cold?As he hovers round the fold,?With his locks of glimmering gold?Twined about his shoulders bare.
THE GRUAGACH.
(MILKMAID'S SONG.)
The lightsome lad wi' yellow hair,?The elfin lad that is so fair,?He comes in rich and braw attire--?To loose the kine within the byre--
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
He's dressed so fine, he's dressed so grand,?A supple switch is in his hand;?I've seen while I a-milking sat?The shadow of his beaver hat.
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
My chuckling lad, so full o' fun,?Around the corners he will run;?Behind the door he'll sometimes jink,?And blow to make my candle blink.
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
The elfin lad that is so braw,?He'll sometimes hide among the straw;?He's sometimes leering from the loft--?He's tittering low and tripping soft.
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
And every time I'll milk the kine?He'll have his share--the luck be mine!?I'll pour it in yon hollowed stone,?He'll sup it when he's all alone--
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
O me! if I'd his milk forget,?Nor cream, nor butter I would get;?Ye needna' tell--I ken full well--?On all my kine he'd cast his spell.
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find my lad wi' yellow hair.
On nights when I would rest at ease,?The merry lad begins to tease;?He'll loose the kine to take me out,?And titter while I move about.
My lightsome lad, my leering lad,?He's tittering here; he's tittering there--?I'll hear him plain, but seek in vain?To find