expected to revisit earth. In the meanwhile, his memory is held in the most profound respect. The Eildon Tree, from beneath the shade of which he delivered his prophecies, now no longer exists; but the spot is marked by a large stone, called the Eildon Tree Stone. A neighbouring rivulet takes the name of the Bogle Burn (Goblin Brook) from the Rhymer's supernatural visitants. It seemed to the Editor unpardonable to dismiss a person so important in Border tradition as the Rhymer, without some further notice than a simple commentary upon the following ballad. It is given from a copy obtained from a lady residing not far from Ercildoune, corrected and enlarged by one in Mrs. Brown's MSS. The former copy, however, as might be expected, is far more minute as to local description. To this old tale the Editor has ventured to add a Second Part, consisting of a kind of cento, from the printed prophecies vulgarly ascribed to the Rhymer; and a Third Part, entirely modern, founded upon the tradition of his having returned with the hart and hind, to the Land of Faërie. Part First. ANCIENT. TRUE Thomas lay on IIuutlie bank; Come riding down by the Eildon Tree. Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, True Thomas, he pulled aff his cap, "O no, O no, Thomas," she said; Harp and carp, Thomas," she said Sure of your bodie I will be." "Betide me weal, betide me woe, ; That weird shall never danton me." Syne he has kissed her rosy lips, "Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said; And ye maun serve me seven years, Through weal or woe as may chance to be." She mounted on her milk-white steed; O they rade on, and farther on; The steed gaed swifter than the wind, "Light down, light down, now, true Thomas, And lean your head upon my knee: Abide, and rest a little space, And I will show you ferlies three. 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 inquires. And see not ye that braid, braid road, Though some call it the road to heaven. 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, For, if you speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie." O 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 nae stern light, And they waded through red blude to the knee, For a' the blude, that's shed on earth, Rins through the springs o' that countrie. Syne they came on to a garden green, "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; I neither dought to buy nor sell, I dought neither speak to prince or peer, 66 He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, Part Second. ALTERED FROM ANCIENT PROPHECIES. CORSPATRICK (Comes Patrick), Earl of March, but more commonly taking his title fron. his Castle of Dunbar, acted a noted part during the wars of Edward I. in Scotland. As Thomas of Ercildoune is said to have delivered to him his famous prophecy of King Alexander's death, the author has chosen to introduce him into the following ballad. All the prophetic verses are selected from Hart's publication. WHEN seven years were come and gane, And Thomas lay on Huntlie bank, He heard the trampling of a steed, And he beheld a gallant knight He was a stalwart knight, and strong; Says "Well met, well met, true Thomas! Says "Christ thee save, Corspatrick brave! Light down, light down, Corspatrick brave, Shall gar fair Scotland greet and grane, A storm shall roar, this very hour, For the sun shines sweet on fauld and lea." He put his hand on the earlie's head; "The neist curse lights on Branxton Hills: By Flodden's high and heathery side, Shall wave a banner, red as blude, And chieftains throng wi' meikle pride. A Scottish king shall come full keen; A feathered arrow sharp, I ween, Shall make him wink and warre to see. When he is bloody, and all to bledde, Yet turn ye to the eastern hand, There shall the lion lose the gylte, And the libbards bear it clean away; At Pinkyn Cleuch there shall be spilt Much gentil blude that day." Enough, enough, of curse and ban; Some blessing show thou now to me, Or, by the faith o' my bodie," Corspatrick said, "Ye shall rue the day ye e'er saw me!" "The first of blessings I shall thee show, Beside that brigg, out ower that burn, Where the water bickereth bright and sheen, Shall many a falling courser spurn, And knights shall die in battle keen. Beside a headless cross of stone, The libbards there shall lose the gree; The raven shall come, the erne shall go, And drink the Saxon blood sae free. The cross of stone they shall not know, So thick the corses there shall be." "But tell me now," said brave Dunbar, A French queen shall bear the son, "The waters worship shall his race; Part Third. MODERN. THE following attempt to commemorate the Rhymer's poetical fame, and the traditional account of his marvellous return to Fairy Land, being entirely modern, would have been placed with greater propriety among the class of Modern Ballads, had it not been for its immediate connection with the first and second parts of the same story. WHEN seven years more had come and gone, And Ruberslaw showed high Dunyon Then all by bonny Coldingknow, The Leader, rolling to the Tweed, They roused the deer from Caddenhead, The feast was spread in Ercildoune, Nor lacked they, while they sat at dine, Nor goblets of the blood-red wine, Nor mantling quaighs of ale. True Thomas rose, with harp in hand, (In minstrel strife, in Fairy Land, |