The Romance of Prophecies of Thomas of Erceldoune: Printed from Five Manuscripts, with Illustrations from Prophetic Literature of the 15th and 16th Century

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Early English Text Society, 1875 - 63 ページ

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liv ページ - Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said ; " True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me ; And ye maun serve me seven years, Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.
lv ページ - And see not ye that bonny road, That winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae. " But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see ; For, if you speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie.
lv ページ - O see ye not yon narrow road, So thick beset with thorns and briers ? That is the path of righteousness, Though after it but few enquires. " And see ye not that braid, braid road, That lies across that lily leven ? That is the path of wickedness, Though some call it the road to Heaven.
lv ページ - For a' the blude that's shed on earth Rins through the springs o' that countrie. Syne they came on to a garden green, And she pu'd an apple frae a tree — * ' Take this for thy wages, true Thomas ; It will give thee the tongue that can never lie.' 'My tongue is mine ain,' true Thomas said; 'A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!
lv ページ - He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, And a pair of shoes of velvet green ; And till seven years were gane and past, True Thomas on earth was never seen.
liv ページ - That am hither come to visit thee. " Harp and carp, Thomas," she said ; " Harp and carp along wi' me ; And if ye dare to kiss my lips, Sure of your bodie I will be." — " Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird ' shall never daunton me." — Syne he has kissed her rosy lips, All underneath the Eildon tree.
liv ページ - That name does not belang to me; I am but the Queen of fair Elfland, That am hither come to visit thee. 'Harp and carp, Thomas...
liii ページ - TRUE THOMAS lay on Huntlie bank ; A ferlie he spied wi' his ee ; And there he saw a ladye bright, Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
lv ページ - Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie." 0 they rade on, and farther on, And they waded through rivers aboon the knee, And they saw neither sun nor moon, But they heard the roaring of the sea. It was mirk mirk night, and there was пае stern light, And they waded through red blude to the knee, For a' the blude that's shed on earth Hins through the springs o
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