They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,

Whan word came to the carline wife,
That her sons she'd never see.

'I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fishes in the flood,

Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood!'

It fell about the Martinmas,

When nights are lang and mirk,
The carline wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o' the birk.

It neither grew in syke 2 nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh3;

But at the gates o' Paradise,
That birk grew fair enough.

'Blow up the fire, my maidens !
Bring water from the well!
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well.'

And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide;

And she's ta'en her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.

The cock he hadna craw'd but once,
And clapp'd his wings at a',

When the youngest to the eldest said,
'Brother, we must awa.

'The cock doth craw, the day doth daw,

The channerin' worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o' our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.

'Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre !
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass,
That kindles my mother's fire.'

[Contains popular beliefs common to Asiatic and European races, as to the trials of the Dead.]

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,

Every night and alle,

Fire and sleet, and candle lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.

When thou from hence away are paste,
Every night and alle;

To Whinny-muir thou comest at laste;
And Christe receive thye saule.

If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
Every night and alle;

Sit thee down, and put them on;

And Christe receive thye saule.

If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gavest nane,
Every night and alle :

The whinnes shall pricke thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thye saule.

From Whinny-muir when thou mayst passe,

Every night and alle;

To Brigg o' Dread thou comest at laste;
And Christe receive thye saule.

From Brigg o' Dread when thou mayst passe,

Every night and alle;

To Purgatory fire thou comest at laste;

And Christe receive thye saule.

If ever thou gavest meat or drink,

Every night and alle;

The fire shall never make thee shrinke;
And Christe receive thye saule.

If meate or drinke thou never gavest nane,
Every night and alle;

The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle;

Fire and sleet, and candle lighte,

And Christe receive thye saule.

A SONG OF THE SCOTCH MARCHES.

KINMONT WILLIE.

[The events here reported occurred in 1596. The ballad is the best example of those which treat of rescues, and lawless exploits in the debateable land.]

O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde?

O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroop?

How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie,

On Hairibee to hang him up?

Had Willie had but twenty men,

But twenty men as stout as he,

Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en,

Wi' eight score in his cumpanie.

They band his legs beneath the steed,
They tied his hands behind his back;
They guarded him, fivesome on each side,
And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

They led him thro' the Liddel-rack,

And also thro' the Carlisle sands
They brought him to Carlisle castell,
To be at my Lord Scroop's commands.

'My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, And whae will dare this deed avow?

Or answer by the border law?

Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch !'

'Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver! There's never a Scot shall set ye free: Before ye cross my castle yate,

I trow ye shall take farewell o' me.'

'Fear na ye that, my lord,' quo' Willie :

'By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroop,' he said,

'I never yet lodged in a hostelrie,

But I paid my lawing before I gaed.'

Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper,
In Branksome Ha', where that he lay,
That Lord Scroop has ta'en the Kinmont Willie,
Between the hours of night and day.

He has ta'en the table wi' his hand,
He garr'd the red wine spring on hie-
'Now Christ's curse on my head,' he said,
'But avenged of Lord Scroop I'll be!

'O is my basnet1 a widow's curch??

Or my lance a wand of the willow tree?
Or my arm a ladye's lilye hand,
That an English lord should lightly me!

'And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Against the truce of border tide?
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch

Is Keeper here on the Scottish side?

And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
Withouten either dread or fear?

And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch
Can back a steed, or shake a spear?

'O were there war between the lands,
As well I wot that there is none,
I would slight Carlisle castell high,
Tho' it were builded of marble stone.

'I would set that castell in a low1, And sloken it with English blood! There's nevir a man in Cumberland,

Should ken where Carlisle castell stood.

'But since nae war's between the lands,
And there is peace, and peace should be;
I'll neither harm English lad nor lass,
And yet the Kinmont freed shall be !'

He has call'd him forty marchmen bauld,
I trow they were of his ain name,
Except Sir Gilbert Elliot call'd,

The laird of Stobs, I mean the same.

He has call'd him forty marchmen bauld,
Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch ;
With spur on heel, and splent on spauld2,

And gleuves of green, and feathers blue.

There were five and five before them a',
Wi' hunting horns and bugles bright;
And five and five came wi' Buccleuch,
Like warden's men, arrayed for fight:

1 flame.

2 armour on shoulder.