Elves and Heroes | Page 8

my lad wi' yellow hair.
THE LITTLE OLD MAN OF THE BARN.
When all the big lads will be hunting the deer,?And no one for helping Old Callum comes near,?O who will be busy at threshing his corn??Who will come in the night and be going at morn?
The Little Old Man of the Barn,?Yon Little Old Man--?A bodach forlorn will be threshing his corn,?The Little Old Man of the Barn.
When the peat will turn grey and the shadows fall deep,?And weary Old Callum is snoring asleep;?When yon plant by the door will keep fairies away,?And the horse-shoe sets witches a-wandering till day.
The Little Old Man of the Barn,?Yon Little Old Man--?Will thresh with no light in the mouth of the night,?The Little Old Man of the Barn.
For the bodach is strong though his hair is so grey,?He will never be weary when he goes away--?The bodach is wise--he's so wise, he's so dear--?When the lads are all gone, he will ever be near.
The Little Old Man of the Barn,?Yon Little Old Man--?So tight and so braw he will bundle the straw--?The Little Old Man of the Barn.
YON FAIRY DOG.
'Twas bold MacCodrum of the Seals,?Whose heart would never fail,?Would hear yon fairy ban-dog fierce?Come howling down the gale;?The patt'ring of the paws would sound?Like horse's hoofs on frozen ground,?While o'er its back and curling round?Uprose its fearsome tail.
'Twas bold MacCodrum of the Seals--?Yon man that hath no fears--?Beheld the dog with dark-green back?That bends not when it rears;?Its sides were blacker than the night,?But underneath the hair was white;?Its paws were yellow, its eyes were bright,?And blood-red were its ears.
'Twas bold MacCodrum of the Seals--?The man who naught will dread--?Would wait it, stooping with his spear,?As nigh to him it sped;?The big black head it turn'd and toss'd,?"I'll strike," cried he, "ere I'll be lost,"?For every living thing that cross'd?Its path would tumble dead.
'Twas bold MacCodrum of the Seals--?The man who ne'er took fright--?Would watch it bounding from the hills?And o'er the moors in flight.?When it would leave the Uist shore,?Across the Minch he heard it roar--?Like yon black cloud it bounded o'er?The Coolin Hills that night.
THE WATER-HORSE.
O the Water-Horse will come over the heath,?With the foaming mouth and the flashing eyes,?He's black above and he's white beneath--?The hills are hearing the awesome cries;?The sand lies thick in his dripping hair,?And his hoofs are twined with weeds and ware.
Alas! for the man who would clutch the mane--?There's no spell to help and no charm to save!?Who rides him will never return again,?Were he as strong, O were he as brave?As Fin-mac-Coul, of whom they'll tell--?He thrashed the devil and made him yell.
He'll gallop so fierce, he'll gallop so fast,?So high he'll rear, and so swift he'll bound--?Like the lightning flash he'll go prancing past,?Like the thunder-roll will his hoofs resound--?And the man perchance who sees and hears,?He would blind his eyes, he would close his ears.
The horse will bellow, the horse will snort,?And the gasping rider will pant for breath--?Let the way be long, or the way be short,?It will have one end, and the end is death;?In yon black loch, from off the shore,?The horse will splash, and be seen no more.
THE CHANGELING.
By night they came and from my bed?They stole my babe, and left behind?A thing I hate, a thing I dread--?A changeling who is old and blind;?He's moaning all the night and day?For those who took my babe away.
My little babe was sweet and fair,?He crooned to sleep upon my breast--?But O the burden I must bear!?This drinks all day and will not rest--?My little babe had hair so light--?And his is growing dark as night.
Yon evil day when I would leave?My little babe the stook behind!--?The fairies coming home at eve?Upon an eddy of the wind,?Would cast their eyes with envy deep?Upon my heart's-love in his sleep.
What holy woman will ye find?To weave a spell and work a charm??A holy woman, pure and kind,?Who'll keep my little babe from harm--?Who'll make the evil changeling flee,?And bring my sweet one back to me?
MY FAIRY LOVER.
My fairy lover, my fairy lover,?My fair, my rare one, come back to me--?All night I'm sighing, for thee I'm crying,?I would be dying, my love, for thee.
Thine eyes were glowing like blue-bells blowing,?With dew-drops twinkling their silvery fires;?Thine heart was panting with love enchanting,?For mine was granting its fond desires.
My fairy lover, my fairy lover,?My fair, my rare one, come back to me--?All night I'm sighing, for thee I'm crying,?I would be dying, my love, for thee.
Thy brow had brightness and lily-whiteness,?Thy cheeks were clear as yon crimson sea;?Like broom-buds gleaming, thy locks were streaming,?As I lay dreaming, my love, of thee.
My fairy lover, my fairy lover,?My fair, my rare one, come back to me--?All night I'm sighing, for thee I'm crying,?I would be dying,