Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume XXIV Part 17

In yonder vault, deep down below, Half choked with h.o.a.ry eglantine, Sleep side by side in lengthened row The proud Roseallan's n.o.ble line.

The hairy wing-mouse flutters there, The owl mopes as in days of yore, Strange eldritch sounds salute the ear, Unholy things crawl on the floor.

How oft alone at midnight hour I stand within that silent tomb, What time the moon with waning power Is struggling through increasing gloom, On one sole bier _his_ tears would fall, For _her_ his groans come evermore, Whose silver voice once filled the hall, Whose feet once lightly tript the floor.

XIX.

THE BALLAD OF THE TOURNAY.

In the castle of Kildrennie, Up in her chamber high, There sat the fair Burde Annie, And with her County Guy-- Come lately from the east, As far as Palestine, Where he had sent to his long rest Many a bold Saracen.

Sir Guy his burning love hath told, And a favour he hath won, For lo! a ring of virgin gold s.h.i.+nes there his finger on.

And they have pledged the solemn yea, Each on the bended knee, That on the coming Beltane day They two shall wedded be.

Burde Annie viewed, to hide her tears, The red sun setting still, And lo! behold two cavaliers Came riding up the hill: The one he was Sir Hudibras Come of a n.o.ble clan; The other no less n.o.ble was-- The brave Sir Gallachan.

The first bore on his s.h.i.+eld outspread Two bones in cross moline, And for his crest ane bluidy head, Erased from Saracen.

The other carried, n.o.bler far, All in a field of gold, A flaming bolt of Jupiter, For crest ane tiger bold.

And up they rode, and up they rode, Till they came to the lawn Which spread before the castle broad, And there they made a stand; And there they spied Burde Annie Up in her chamber high, But for the breadth of her bodie They could not see Sir Guy.

Burde Annie waved her lily hand, And threw a kiss a-down-- For Hudibras or Gallachan Was meant the priceless boon?

For sure it was a priceless boon, When neither could espy That when she threw that kiss a-down She winkit to Sir Guy.

"That kiss divine, I trow, is mine,"

Cried doughty Hudibras; "I am the man," cried Gallachan, "And sure thou art ane a.s.s."

Such words to hear were ill to bear By any valiant knight; And each drew forth his sword o' weir, And stood prepared for fight.

They start.i.t, they part.i.t, Then on each other sprang; They lungit, they plungit, Till all the welkin rang.

They ogglit, they gogglit, Amidst the dread deray; They chirnit, they girnit, Like bluidy beasts of prey.

They rattlit, they brattlit, Each cuira.s.s upon; They hackit, they thwackit, Each other's morion.

They reel it, they wheelit, And quick came round again; They burst.i.t, they thrust it, With all their might and main.

They smeekit, they reek it, Like to ane smouldering kiln; They peghit, they sighit, Each other's blood to spill, They trampit, they stampit, Like animals run wud; They flarit, they glarit, With eyne yred with bluid.

At length, to end the bluidy deeds, They raised their falchions keen, And down upon each other's heads They clove them to the chin.

But 'tis not true, as I've heard tell, And I do not believe That when these doughty lovers fell, _One laughed within her sleeve_.

But I have also heard it said, And I again it say, And I would like to see the head With tongue in't to say nay-- That as these pates lay on the ground (As there they yet may lie), _One eye in each cloved head was found Fixed on that chamber high_.

XX.

THE BALLAD OF GOLDEN COUNSEL.

Come Mary and Martha, Jeanie and Jenny, And sit down and listen, baith ane and a', To me, wha may very weel be your grannie, And aiblins may ken ae thing or twa.

This world is no so sweet and so bonnie As you in your young hearts may suppose; There's aloes in it as weel as honey, And aye some p.r.i.c.kles on ilka rose.

Young la.s.ses I think are something like fillies Let out in a field to idle and eat, To graze by the gowans and drink by the willows, And never to dream of a bridle _a bit_.

It's no what ye eat, it's no what you drink, dears, It's no your bonnets, or ribbons, or skirts, The trinkets ye wear, or the siller ye clink, dears-- There's something, I wean, far nearer your hearts.

Your thoughts are mair of him you will marry, What the colour may be of his hair, Whether aye cheery, or sometimes chary, What his complexion, or dark or fair.

But men they are gude, and men they are ill, dears, You may get the leal or the lazy loon; A lover is aft like a gilded pill, dears, The bitter comes after it's gulped doon.

I fear ye hae little of power to choose him, The husband is settled for you abune; But you've power in holy bands to noose him _Before ye let him tak' aff his shune_.

For a maid who is silly and stoops to folly, And finds ower late that she is betrayed, I ken nae cure for her melancholy But a coffin--and let it be quickly made.

A braw lover cam' to my minnie's s.h.i.+eling When I was as young as you now may be, Sae saft, like a loon wha's bent on stealing, And he tirled and whispered secretlie.

"Oh let me in this ae night, Jenny, And I will for ever thy true love be; Oh let me in this ae night, hinny, And I will come back and marry thee!"

"Gae back and awa, for this my will is, My mither lies gleg wi' half-closed ee, And bids me beware of faithless billies, Who will steal my heart and awa frae me flee."

"For mercy's sake! this ae night, Jenny, Oh let me scoug frae the wind and rain, And holy vows I will plight thee, hinny, That thou wilt be for ever mine ain."

I opened the door so saft and sleeky, For fear my mither should hear the din, And he has ta'en aff his shune so creaky, And I've led him into my cosy ben.

Our speckled c.o.c.k crew loud and early, The day was dawing o'er forest green, And I let him out as wily and warily As ever I let him in yestreen.

"Now, fare thee well, my winsome Jenny, For I am a baron of high degree; Now, fare thee well for ever, my hinny, For the wife of a baron thou ne'er canst be."

With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla,[A]

He stroked the red beard on his chin, With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla, And I have never seen him again.

[Footnote A: The reader may here recollect the fine ballad of Burger, "Der Ritter und sein Liebchen;" and the verse--

Drauf ritt der Ritter hop sa! sa!

Und strich sein Bartchen trallala; Sein Leibchen sah ihn reiten Und horte noch von weiten Sein Lachen ha! ha! ha!

[The maidens thought the humour gala, And, laughing, they chorused to the strain, "With a ha! ha! ha! and a tra-la-lalla, And you have never seen him again."]

Now, dears! if your lovers you would not lose them, Tak' counsel--it is not an hour ower sune: Be sure that in holy bands ye noose them _Before you let them tak' aff their shune_.

[The maidens thought they would amuse them, And, laughing, they chorused to the tune, "Oh yes, we in holy bands will noose them _Before we let them tak' aff their shune_."]