And he has broken my bonny coffers,
That was weel banded wi' oaken ban';
And he has stolen my rich jewels;

I wot he has stolen them every ane.

Then out it spake her Lady Elspat,
As she sat by Lord-Justice' knee:
Now ye have told your tale, mother,
pray,
Lord-Justice, ye'll now hear me.

I

He hasna broken her bonny castle,

That was weel built wi' lime and stane;

Nor has he stolen her rich jewels,

For I wot she has them every one.

But though he was my first true love,

And though I had sworn to be his bride, 'Cause he had na a great estate,

She would this way our loves divide.

Syne out and spake the Lord-Justice,
I wot the tear was in his ee:

I see no fault in this young man ;
So loose his bands, and set him free:

And take your love, now, Lady Elspat;
And my best blessing you both upon;
For if he be your first true love,
He is my eldest sister's son.

There stands a steed in my stable,

Cost me both gold and white money;
Ye's get as mickle of my free land

As he'll ride about in a summer's day. JAMIESON.

SWEET WILLIE OF LIDDESDALE.

SWEET WILLIE, the flower of Liddesdale,
Has taken him o'er the salt-sea faem,
And he 's doen him to foreign lands,

And he's wooed a wife and brought her hame.

And many a may in Liddesdale

Did sadly sigh to see that tide;

But never a may in Liddesdale
Was half so comely as his bride.

For lovely-sweet fair Alice was,

And bonnie yellow was her hair;

And happy, happy might she been,

But his mother wrought her mickle care.

His mother wrought her mickle care,
And mickle dolour gart her dree;
For her young bairnie maun be born,
And lighter can she never be.

Sad in her bower fair Alice sits,

And sore, oh, sore! sore is her pain!
And sore and woeful is his heart,

While Willie mourns o'er her in vain.

And he has hied him to his mother,

That vilest Witch of vilest kin;
He says, My lady has a girdle,
All diamonds out, and gold within;

And ay at every silver hem

Hangs fifty silver bells and ten :
Oh, let her be lighter of her young bairn,
And that goodly gift shall be your ain!

Of her young bairn she's ne'er be lighter,
Nor ever see an end of wae;
But she shall die and turn to clay,
And ye shall wed another may.

Another may I'll never wed!
Another love I'll never ken!
But sadly sighed that weary wight,
I wish my days were at an en'!

He did him tell his mother again,
And said,-My lady has a steed,
White as the drift, as roebuck swift,
His like is not in the lands of Leed;

For he is silver-shod before,

And he is golden-shod behin';

And at ilka tate of that horse's mane
Is a golden chess and bell ringin';

And mickle did ye praise his speed,

When at the ring he ran so swift: Oh, let her be lighter of her young bairn, And yours shall be that goodly gift.

Of her young bairn she 's never be lighter, Nor ever see an end of wae;

But she shall die, and go to clay,

And ye shall wed anither may.

Oh, mother! a woman's heart ye bear,
Take ruth upon a mother's pine;
Take ruth on your own flesh and blood,
Nor let her sakeless bairnie tine:

And it shall live your oye to be;

To cheer your eild in many a stead;
And sain with benisons your truff,

When in the mould your bones are laid,

Oh! mother pree'd ye e'er of love,
And can ye bid me love again?
And can she break her Willie's heart,
For him who dree'd a mother's pain?

And can ye thole to kill your son,
Your only hope! with ruthless rage;
Syne fa' yourself, like blasted tree,
Withered with curses, in your age?

Away! away! what blacker curse
Nor uncomplying bairn can be!
O' her young bairn she's never be lighter,
Nor ever an end of dolour see!

Then out it speak the Billy Blin,*

Of Liddes' lord that aye took care:

Then ye do buy a leaf of wax,

And kiauve it weel, and mould it fair;

And shape it bairn and bairnlie-like,

And in twa glazen een ye pit;

* A kind of domestic fairy or sprite, supposed to interest itself in the welfare of the family.

*

With holy water synd * it o'er,

And by the holy Rood sain it;

And carry it to fair Alice's bower,
And "Ave Mary!" nine times say;
Syne in the Lady Mother's name,
In Alice' arms the image lay;

And ilka knot and bolt undo,

Fair Alice's bower that is within;
And do you to your mother then,
And bid her to your boy's christ'ning;

For dear's the boy to you he's been!
Then notice weel what she will dae ;
And do you stand a little for-by,

And listen weel what she will say.

Now Willie has all his bidden done;

In good time aye he gae warning;
And he's doen him to his mother then,

And bidden her to his boy's christ'ning.

"O who has loosed the nine witch-knots
Among that lady's locks so fair?
And who the kembs of care ta'en out,
That was among that lady's hair?

And who has killed the master kid,
That ran aneath the lady's bed?
And who has loosed her left-foot shoe,
And that young lady lighter made?” †

Then out it spake the Billy Blin,

As, aye at hand, he harkit near;

(And the witch did quake in lith and limb,

The weird of Billy Blin to hear):

Sprinkle.

Deceived by the false intelligence, the witch lays open her machinations, which the sprite on the instant counteracts.