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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 of 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!

I neither dought to buy nor sell,

At fair or tryst, where I may be.

"I dought neither speak to prince or peer,

Nor ask of grace from fair ladye.”

"Now hold thy peace!" the ladye said, "For, as I say, so must it be.".

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.

NOTE AND APPENDIX

ΤΟ

THOMAS THE RHYMER.

PART FIRST.

She pu'd an apple frae a tree, &c.—P. 218. v. 3. The traditional commentary upon this ballad informs us, that the apple was the produce of the fatal Tree of Knowledge, and that the garden was the terrestrial paradise. The repugnance of Thomas to be debarred the use of falsehood, when he might find it convenient, has a comic effect.

The reader is here presented, from an old, and unfortunately an imperfect MS., with the undoubted original of Thomas the Rhymer's intrigue with the Queen of Faery. It will afford great amusement to those, who would study the nature of tra

ditional poetry, and the changes effected by oral tradition, to compare this ancient romance with the foregoing ballad. The same incidents are narrated, even the expression is often the same, yet the poems are as different in appearance, as if the older tale had been regularly and systematically modernized by a poet of the present day.

Incipit Prophesia Thome de Erseldoun.

In a lande as I was lent,

In the gryking of the day,
Ay alone as I went,

In Huntle bankys me for to play :
I saw the throstyl, and the jay,
Ye mawes movyde of her song,
Ye wodwale sang notes gay,
That al the wod about range.
In that longyng as I lay,
Undir nethe a dern tre,
I was war of a lady gay,
Come rydyng ouyr a fair le ;
Zogh I suld sitt to domysday,
With my tong to wrabbe and wry,
Certanly all hyr aray,

It beth neuyr discryuyd for me.
Hyr palfra was dappyll gray,
Sycke on say neuer none,
As the son in somers day,
All abowte that lady shone;
Hyr sadel was of a rewel bone,

A semly sight it was to se,

Bryht with mony a precyous stone,
And compasyd all with crapste;
Stones of oryens gret plente,
Her hair about her hede it hang,
She rode ouer the farnyle.

A while she blew a while she sang,
Her girths of nobil silke they were,
Her boculs were of beryl stone,
Sadyll and brydill war - - :

With sylk and sendel about bedone,

Hyr patyrel was of a pall fyne;

And hyr croper of the arase,

Hyr brydil was of gold fyne,

On euery syde forsothe hong bells thre,

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She led thre grew hounds in a leash,
And ratches cowpled by her ran;
She bar an horn about her halse,
And undir her gyrdil meny flene.
Thomas lay and sa ---
In the bankes of -

He sayd yonder is Mary of Might,

That bar the child that died for me,

Certes bot I may speke with that lady bright, Myd my hert will breke in three ;

I schal me hye with all my might,

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