An' when that lady went to the church, She spied a naked boy in the porch,

"O bonnie boy, an' ye were mine, "I'd clead ye in the silks sae fine."

"O mither dear, when I was thine, "To me ye were na half sae kind."

Stories of this nature are very common in the annals of popular superst.i.tion. It is, for example, currently believed in Ettrick Forest, that a libertine, who had destroyed fifty-six inhabited houses, in order to throw the possessions of the cottagers into his estate, and who added to this injury, that of seducing their daughters, was wont to commit, to a carrier in the neighbourhood, the care of his illegitimate children, shortly after they were born. His emissary regularly carried them away, but they were never again heard of. The unjust and cruel gains of the profligate laird were dissipated by his extravagance, and the ruins of his house seem to bear witness to the truth of the rhythmical prophecies denounced against it, and still current among the peasantry. He himself died an untimely death; but the agent of his amours and crimes survived to extreme old age. When on his death-bed, he seemed much oppressed in mind, and sent for a clergyman to speak peace to his departing spirit: but, before the messenger returned, the man was in his last agony; and the terrified a.s.sistants had fled from his cottage, unanimously averring, that the wailing of murdered infants had ascended from behind his couch, and mingled with the groans of the departing sinner.

LADY ANNE

Fair lady Anne sate in her bower, Down by the greenwood side, And the flowers did spring, and the birds did sing, 'Twas the pleasant May-day tide.

But fair lady Anne on sir William call'd, With the tear grit in her e'e, "O though thou be fause, may heaven thee guard, "In the wars ayont the sea!"

Out of the wood came three bonnie boys, Upon the simmer's morn, And they did sing, and play at the ba', As naked as they were born.

"O seven lang year was I sit here, "Amang the frost and snaw, "A' to hae but ane o' these bonnie boys, "A playing at the ba'."

Then up and spake the eldest boy, "Now listen, thou fair ladie!

"And ponder well the read that I tell, "Then make ye a choice of the three.

"'Tis I am Peter, and this is Paul, "And that are, sae fair to see, "But a twelve-month sinsyne to paradise came, "To join with our companie."

"O I will hae the snaw-white boy, "The bonniest of the three."

"And if I were thine, and in thy propine,[A]

"O what wad ye do to me?"

"'Tis I wad clead thee in silk and gowd, "And nourice thee on my knee."

"O mither! mither! when I was thine, "Sic kindness I could na see.

"Before the turf, where I now stand, "The fause nurse buried me; "Thy cruel penknife sticks still in my heart, "And I come not back to thee."

[Footnote A: _Propine_--Usually gift, but here the power of giving or bestowing.]

LORD WILLIAM

This ballad was communicated to me by Mr James Hogg; and, although it bears a strong resemblance to that of _Earl Richard_, so strong, indeed, as to warrant a supposition, that the one has been derived from the other, yet its intrinsic merit seems to warrant its insertion. Mr Hogg has added the following note, which, in the course of my enquiries, I have found most fully corroborated.

"I am fully convinced of the antiquity of this song; for, although much of the language seems somewhat modernized, this must be attributed to its currency, being much liked, and very much sung, in this neighbourhood. I can trace it back several generations, but cannot hear of its ever having been in print. I have never heard it with any considerable variation, save that one reciter called the dwelling of the feigned sweetheart, _Castleswa_."

LORD WILLIAM

Lord William was the bravest knight That dwait in fair Scotland, And, though renowned in France and Spain, Fell by a ladie's hand.

As she was walking maid alone, Down by yon shady wood.

She heard a smit[A] o' bridle reins, She wish'd might be for good.

"Come to my arms, my dear Willie, "You're welcome hame to me; "To best o' chear and charcoal red,[B]

"And candle burnin' free."

"I winna light, I darena light, "Nor come to your arms at a'; "A fairer maid than ten o' you, "I'll meet at Castle-law."

"A fairer maid than me, Willie!

"A fairer maid than me!

"A fairer maid than ten o' me, "Your eyes did never see."

He louted owr his saddle lap, To kiss her ere they part, And wi' a little keen bodkin, She pierced him to the heart.

"Ride on, ride on, lord William, now, "As fast as ye can dree!

"Your bonny la.s.s at Castle-law "Will weary you to see."

Out up then spake a bonny bird, Sat high upon a tree,-- How could you kill that n.o.ble lord?

"He came to marry thee."

"Come down, come down, my bonny bird, "And eat bread aff my hand!

"Your cage shall be of wiry goud, "Whar now its but the wand."

"Keep ye your cage o' goud, lady, "And I will keep my tree; "As ye hae done to lord William., "Sae wad ye do to me."

She set her foot on her door step, A bonny marble stane; And carried him to her chamber, O'er him to make her mane.

And she has kept that good lord's corpse Three quarters of a year, Until that word began to spread, Then she began to fear.

Then she cried on her waiting maid, Ay ready at her ca'; "There is a knight unto my bower, "'Tis time he were awa."

The ane has ta'en him by the head, The ither by the feet, And thrown him in the wan water, That ran baith wide and deep.

"Look back, look back, now, lady fair, "On him that lo'ed ye weel!

"A better man than that blue corpse "Ne'er drew a sword of steel."

[Footnote A: _Smit_--Clashing noise, from smite--hence also _(perhaps)_ Smith and Smithy.]

[Footnote B: _Charcoal red_--This circ.u.mstance marks the antiquity of the poem. While wood was plenty in Scotland, charcoal was the usual fuel in the chambers of the wealthy.]

THE BROOMFIELD HILL.