As white as snow on Fairnalie-Page 224.

An ancient seat upon the Tweed, in Selkirkshire. In a popular edition of the first part of Thomas the Rhymer, the fairy queen thus addresses him:

"Gin ye wad meet wi' me again,

Gang to the bonny banks of Fairnalie."

THE

FIRE KING.

20

This ballad was written at the request of Mr. LEWIS, to be inserted in his " Tales of Wonder." It is the third in a series of four ballads, on the subject of Elementary Spirits. The story is, however, partly historical; for it is recorded, that, during the struggles of the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem, a knight templar, called Saint Alban, deserted to the Saracens, and defeated the Christians in many combats, till he was finally routed and slain, in a conflict with King Baldwin, under the walls of Jerusalem.

THE

FIRE KING.

"The blessings of the evil Genii, which are curses, were upon

him."

Eastern Tale.

BOLD knights and fair dames, to my harp give an

ear,

Of love, and of war, and of wonder to hear;

And you haply may sigh, in the midst of your glee, At the tale of Count Albert, and fair Rosalie.

O see you that castle, so strong and so high?
And see you that lady, the tear in her eye?
And see you that palmer, from Palestine's land,
The shell on his hat, and the staff in his hand?

"Now palmer, gray palmer, O tell unto me, What news bring you home from the Holy Countrie?

And how goes the warfare by Galilee's strand? And how fare our nobles, the flower of the land ?"

"O well goes the warfare by Galilee's wave, For Gilead, and Nablous, and Ramah we have;

And well fare our nobles by Mount Lebanon,

For the Heathen have lost, and the Christians have won."

A fair chain of gold 'mid her ringlets there hung: O'er the palmer's gray locks the fair chain has she flung:

"O palmer, gray palmer, this chain be thy fee, For the news thou hast brought from the Holy Countrie.

"And palmer, good palmer, by Galilee's wave, O saw ye Count Albert, the gentle and brave? When the crescent went back, and the red-cross rushed on,

O saw ye him foremost on Mount Lebanon ?"

"O lady, fair lady, the tree green it grows;

O lady, fair lady, the stream pure it flows;

Your castle stands strong, and your hopes soar on high;

But lady, fair lady, all blossoms to die.

"The green boughs they wither, the thunderbolt falls,

It leaves of your castle but levin scorched walls; The pure stream runs muddy; the gay hope is

gone;

Count Albert is prisoner on Mount Lebanon."