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She plunged in, the torrent moan'd
With its accustom'd sound,
And hollow peals of laughter loud
Again rebellow'd round.

The maid was seen no more.-But oft

Her ghost is known to glide,

At midnight's silent, solemn hour,
Along the ocean's side.

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[This ballad was written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, and is taken from his Queen's Wake,' which was first published in 1813. I was,' he tells us, in the Autobiography' prefixed to his Poetical Works, Glasgow, 1838,- forty years of age before I wrote the Queen's Wake. With regard to the origin of the ballad, or the circumstances, real or supposed, upon which it was founded. the Shepherd gives but little information. He says, indeed, that the catastrophe of this tale is founded upon popular tradition. But of the particulars of that tradition, or the locality to which it is peculiar, or any other matter connected therewith. he says nothing. And it is matter of regret that on so interesting a subject we are obliged to leave the reader in the ignorance in which we find him]

"It fearis me muckil ye haif seen Quhat guid man never knew; It fearis me muckil ye haif been

Quhare the gray cock never crew.

"But the spell may crack, and the brydel breck, Then sherpe yer werde will be ;

Ye had better sleippe in yer bed at hame,
Wi' yer deire littil bairnis and me."-

"Sit doune, sit doune, my leil auld man,
Sit doune, and listen to me;

I'll gar the hayre stand on yer crown,
And the cauld sweit blind yer e'e.

"But tell nae wordis, my guid auld man, Tell never word again;

Or deire shall be yer courtisye,

And driche and sair yer pain.

"The first leet night, quhan the new moon set,
Quhan all was douffe and mirk,

We saddled ouir naigis wi' the moon-fern leif,
And rode fra Kilmerrin kirk.

"Some horses ware of the brume-cow framit,
And some of the greine bay tree;

But mine was made of ane humloke schaw,
And a stout stallion was he.

"We raide the tod doune on the hill,
The martin on the law;

And we huntyd the hoolet out of brethe,
And forcit him doune to fa'."-

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'Quhat guid was that, ye ill womyne?
Quhat guid was that to thee?

Ye wald better haif been in yer bed at hame,
Wi' yer deire littil bairnis and me."-

"And aye we raide, and se merrily we raide,
Throw the merkist gloffis of the night;
And we swam the floode, and we darnit the woode,
Till we cam' to the Lommond height.

"And quhan we cam' to the Lommond height,

Se lythlye we lychtid doune ;

And we drank fra the hornis that never grew,

The beer that was never browin.

"Then up there raise ane wee wee man,
Fra nethe the moss-gray stane;
His fece was wan like the collifloure,
For he nouthir had blude nor bane.

"He set ane reid-pipe til his muthe,
And he playit se bonnilye,

Till the gray curlew and the black-cock flew
To listen his melodye.

"It rang se sweit through the grein Lommond,
That the nycht-winde lowner blew ;
And it soupit alang the Loch Leven,
And wakinit the white sea-mew.

"It rang se sweit through the grein Lommond,
Se sweitly butt and se shill,

That the wezilis laup out of their mouldy holis,
And dancit on the mydnycht hill.

"The corby craw cam' gledgin' near,

The ern ged veeryng bye;

And the troutis laup out of the Leven Loch,
Charmit with the melodye.

"And aye we dancit on the grein Lommond,
Till the dawn on the ocean grew :

Ne wonder I was a weary wycht

Quhan I cam' hame to you."

"Quhat guid, quhat guid, my weird weird wyfe,
Quhat guid was that to thee?

Qe wald better haif bein in yer bed at hame,
Wi' yer deire littil bairnis and me."

"The second nycht, quhan the new moon set,

O'er the roaryng sea we flew ;

The cockle-shell our trusty bark,

Our sailis of the grein sea-rue.

"And the bauld windis blew, and the fire-flauchtis flew,

And the sea ran to the skie;

And the thunner it growlit, and the sea-dogs howlit,
As we gaed scouryng bye.

"And aye we mountit the sea-grein hillis,

Quhill we brushit through the cludis of the hevin ; Than sousit dounright like the stern-shot light,

"But our taickil stood, and our bark was good,
And se pang was our pearily prowe;
Quhan we culdna speil the brow of the wavis,
We needilit them throu' belowe.

"As fast as the hail, as fast as the gale,
As fast as the mydnycht leme,

We borit the breiste of the burstyng swale,
Or fluffit i' the flotyng faem.

"And quhan to the Norraway shore we wan,
We muntyd our steedis of the wynde,

And we splashit the floode, and we darnit the woode, And we left the shouir behynde.

"Fleit is the roe on the grein Lommond,

And swift is the couryng grew,

The rein-deir dun can eithly run,

Quhan the houndis and the hornis pursue.

"But nowther the roe, nor the rein-deir dun,
The hinde nor the couryng grew,

Culde fly owr montaine, muir, and dale,
As our braw stedis they flew.

"The dales war deep, and the Doffrinis steep,

And we raise to the skyis ee-bree;

Quhite, quhite was our rode, that was never trode, Owr the snawis of eternity!

"And quhan we cam' to the Lapland lone,

The fairies war all in array;

For all the genii of the north
War keipyng their holeday.

"The warlock men and the weird wemyng,
And the fays of the wood and the steip,
And the phantom hunteris all war there,
And the mermaidis of the deip.

"And they washit us all with the witch-water,
Distillit fra the muirland dew,

Quhill our beauty blumit like the Lapland rose,
That wylde in the foreste grew."

"Ye lee, ye lee, ye ill womyne,

Se loud as I heir ye lee!

For the warst-faurd wyfe on the shoris of Fyfe

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