Then giving many a fond embrace, To the weird lady of the woods, At length he reach'd a dreary dell Where cypress spred its mournful boughs, No chearful gleams here pierc'd the gloom, But shrill night-ravens' yelling scream, The shriek of fiends and damned ghosts A chilling horror froze his heart, Three times he strives to win his way, At length upon his beating breast Beneath a pendant craggy cliff, He found the inchanted cave. An iron gate clos'd up the mouth, Their offering up a secret prayer, Three times he blowes amaine : Three times a deep and hollow sound "Sir Knight, thy lady beares a son, His name advanc'd in future times All sore opprest with fear and doubt Eager to clasp his lovely dame way But when he reach'd his castle gate, In every court and hall he found And bitterly lament and weep, With faultering step he enters in, Yet half afraid to goe; With trembling voice asks why they grieve, Yet fears the cause to knowe. "Three times the sun hath rose and set ;" They said, then stopt to weep: "Since heaven hath laid thy lady deare In death's eternal sleep. "For, ah! in travel sore she fell, So sore that she must dye; Unless some shrewd and cunning leech But when a cunning leeche was fet, Too soon declared he, She, or her babe must lose its life; Now take my life, thy lady said, And O commend me to my lord, O tell him how that precious babe Then calling still upon thy name, What tongue can paint lord Albret's woe, The bitter tears he shed, The bitter pangs that wrung To find his lady dead? his heart, He beat his breast: he tore his hair; New sorrowe seiz'd the damsells all: Fair as the sweetest flower of spring, And on his little body stampt Three wondrous marks were seen: A blood-red cross was on his arm; A little garter all of gold Was round his leg exprest. Three carefull nurses we provide Our little lord to keep : One gave him sucke, one gave him food And one did lull to sleep. But lo! all in the dead of night, We heard a fearful sound: Loud thunder clapt; the castle shook; Dead with affright at first we lay; But how or where we could not tell; O grief on grief! lord Albret said: At length restor'd to life and sense No future joy his heart could taste, So withers on the mountain top At length the castle irksome grew, His native country he forsakes, There up and downe he wandered far, Clad in a palmer's gown: Till his brown locks grew white as wool, His beard as thistle down. At length, all wearied, down in death There the weird lady of the woods Had borne him far away, And train'd him up in feates of armes, O HEARD ye o' Sir James the Rose, And his friends are out to take him. Now he's gone to the house of Marr, Thinking she would befriend him. "Where are ye going, Sir James?' she says; 'Or where now are you riding?' 'Oh, I am bound to a foreign land, For now I'm under hiding. Where shall I go, where shall I run, 'O go ye down to yon ale-house I'll meet you in the dawin'.' 'I'll no go down to yon ale-house He turned him richt and round about, He had not weel gone out o' sight, |