* * * * *


TRUE THOMAS.

True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie he spied with his e'e;
And there he saw a ladye bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon tree.

Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fine,
At ilka tett of her horse's mane,
Hung fifty siller bells and nine.

True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap,
And louted low down to his knee;
"All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For thy peer on earth I never did see."

"O no, O no, Thomas," she said,
"That name does not belang to me;
I'm but the Queen of fair Elfland,
That hither am come to visit thee!

"Harp and carp, Thomas," she said,
"Harp and carp alang wi' me;
And if ye daur to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I shall be!"