[This is, in the words of Sir Walter Scott, ('Lady of the Lake,' Appendix, Note K, ed. 1830,) a literal translation of a very curious Danish ballad, which occurs in the Kæmpe Viser,' a collection of heroic songs, first published in 1591, and reprinted in 1695, inscribed by Anders Sofrensen, the collector and editor, to Sophia Queen of Denmark. The story will remind the readers of the Border Minstrelsy of the tale of Young Tamlane. But this is only a solitary and not very marked instance of coincidence; whereas several of the other ballads in the same collection find exact counterparts in the Kæmpe Viser.' Of such instances' the reader will find many examples in the course of this work. Mr. Jamieson,' continues Sir Walter, to secure the power of literal translation,' has adopted the old Scottish idiom, which approaches so near to that of the Danish, as almost to give word for word, as well as line for line, and indeed in many verses the orthography alone is altered. To each verse in the original is added a burden- The wild deer and daes i' the shaw out,'-having a kind of meaning of its own, but not applicable, at least not uniformly applicable, to the sense of the stanza to which it is subjoined. This is very common both in Danish and Scottish song. On this ballad was founded the little fairy tale, Alice Brand,' in the 4th canto of The Lady of the Lake.' The original is, according to Mr. Jamieson, a favourable specimen of a large class of Danish ballads, which, like many of the most wild and ancient Scottish ditties, are founded on stories of disenchantment. The scene of the disenchantment in the present instance, Mr. Jamieson inclines to be of opinion is laid in one of the Orkney, or Hebride, islands; Wester Haf, in the first stanza, meaning the West Sea, in opposition to the Baltic or East Sea.]

HERE liggs a wold in Wester Haf,

There a husbande means to bigg,
And thither he carries baith hawk and hound
There meaning the winter to ligg.

He taks wi' him baith hound and cock,
The langer he means to stay,

The wild deer in the shaws that are
May sairly rue the day.

He's hew'd the beech, and he's fell'd the aik,
Sae has he the poplar gray;

And grim in mood was the grewsome elf,
That be sae bald he may.

He hew'd him kipples, he hew'd him bawks,
Wi' mickle moil and haste;

Syne speer'd the Elf i' the knock that bade, "Wha's hacking here sae fast?"

Syne up and spak the weiest Elf,
Crean'd as an immert sma;
"It's here is come a Christian man
I'll fley him or he ga."

It's

up syne started the firsten Elf, And glowr'd about sae grim:

"It's we'll awa to the husbande's house, And hald a court on him.

"Here hews he down baith skugg and shaw, And works us skaith and scorn:

His huswife he sall gie to me ;—

They's rue the day they were born!"

The Elfen a' i' the knock that were,
Gaed dancing in a string;

They nighed near the husbande's house;
Sae lang their tails did hing.

The hound he yowls i' the yard,

The herd toots in his horn;

The earn scraighs, and the cock craws,
As the husbande has gi'en him his corn.

The Elfen were five score and seven,
Sae laidly and sae grim;

And they the husbande's guests maun be,
To eat and drink wi' him.

The husbande, out o' Villenshaw,

At his winnock the Elves can see:

'Help me, now, Jesu, Mary's son;

In every nook a cross he coost,
In his chalmer maist ava;
The Elfen a' were fley'd thereat,

And flew to the wild-wood shaw.

And some flew east, and some flew west,
And some to the norwart flew ;
And some they flew to the deep dale down,
There still they are, I trow.

It was then the weiest Elf,

In at the door braids he;

Agast was the husbande, for that Elf
For cross nor sign wad flee.

The huswife she was a canny wife,
She set the Elf at the board;
She set before him baith ale and meat,
Wi' mony a weel-waled word.

"Hear thou, Gudeman o' Villenshaw,
What now I say to thee;

Wha bade thee bigg within our bounds,
Without the leave o' me?

"But, an thou in our bounds will bigg,
And bide, as well as may be,
Then thou thy dearest huswife maun
To me for a lemman gie."

Up spak the luckless husbande then,
As God the grace him gae:
"Eline she is to me sae dear,

Her thou may nae-gate hae.”

Till the Elf he answer'd as he couth:
'Lat but my huswife be,

And tak whate'er, o' gude or gear,
Is mine, awa wi' thee."

"Then I'll thy Eline tak and thee,
Aneath my feet to tread ;

And hide thy goud and white monie
Aneath my dwalling stead."

The husbande and his househald a'
In sary rede they join :

"Far better that she be now forfairn,
Nor that we a' should tyne."

Up, will of rede, the husbande stood,
Wi' heart fu' sad and sair;
And he has gien his huswife Eline
Wi' the young Elfe to fare.

Then blyth grew he, and sprang about;
He took her in his arm:

The rud it left her comely cheek;
Her heart was clem'd wi' harm.

A waefu' woman then she was ane,
And the moody tears loot fa':
"God rew on me, unseely wife,
How hard a weird I fa'!

"My fay I plight to the fairest wight
That man on mold mat see ;-
Maun I now mell wi' a laidly El,
His light lemman to be?"

He minted ance-he minted twice,
Wae wax'd her heart that syth:

Syne the laidliest fiend he grew that e'er
To mortal ee did kyth.

When he the thirden time can mint
To Mary's son she pray'd,

And the laidly Elf was clean awa,
And a fair knight in his stead.

This fell under a linden green,
That again his shape he found ;
O' wae and care was the word nae mair,
A' were sae glad that stound.

"O dearest Eline, hear thou this,
And thou my wife sall be,

And a' the goud in merry England
Sae freely I'll gi'e thee!

"When I was but a little wee bairn,
My mither died me fra;

My stepmither sent me awa fra her;
I turn'd till an Elfin Gray.

"To thy husband I a gift will gie,
Wi' mickle state and gear,
As mends for Eline his huswife ;-
Thou's be my heartis dear."-

838

"Thou nobil knyght, we thank now God
That has freed us frae skaith;
Sae wed thou thee a maiden free,
And joy attend ye baith!

"Sin I to thee nae maik can be
My dochter may be thine ;
And thy gud will right to fulfill,
Lat this be our propine."-

"I thank thee, Eline, thou wise woman;
My praise thy worth sall ha'e;
And thy love gin I fail to win,
Thou here at hame sall stay."

The husbande biggit now on his öe,
And nae ane wrought him wrang;
His dochter wore crown in Engeland,
And happy lived and lang.

Now Eline, the husbande's huswife, has
Cour'd a' her grief and harms;
She's mither to a noble queen
That sleeps in a kingis arms.