'There's many that are my friends, mother, And if a thousand more were my foe, Betide my life, betide my death,

To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go.'

She clothed herself in gallant attire,
And her merry men all in green;
And as they rid through every town,
They took her to be some queen.

But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate,
She knocked there at the ring;

But who was so ready as Lord Thomas
To let fair Ellinor in.

'Is this your bride?' fair Ellinor said;
'Methinks she looks wonderful brown;
Thou might'st have had as fair a woman,
As ever trod on the ground.'

'Despise her not, fair Ellin,' he said,
'Despise her not unto me;
For better I love thy little finger,
Than all her whole body.'

This brown bride had a little penknife,

That was both long and sharp,
And betwixt the short ribs and the long,

Prick'd fair Ellinor to the heart.

'Now Heaven save thee,' Lord Thomas he said, 'Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan:

Thou used to look with as fresh a colour,
As ever the sun shined on.'

'O, art thou blind, Lord Thomas?' she said,
Or canst thou not very well see?

O, dost thou not see my own heart's blood
Run trickling down my knee?'

Lord Thomas he had a sword by his side;
As he walked about the hall,

He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders,
And threw it against the wall.

He set the hilt against the ground,
And the point against his heart;
There never were three lovers met,
That sooner did depart.

Old Ballad

CXXXII

QUEEN MAB

THEN, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate stone

On the forefinger of an alderman;
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep :

Her wagon spokes made of long spinner's legs:
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams;
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm,
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid :

Her chariot is an empty hazel nut,

Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coachmakers.

And in this state she gallops night by night,

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; On courtiers' knees that dream on court'sies straight; O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream.

W. Shakespeare

CXXXIII

YOUNG LOCHINVAR

YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the West!

Through all the wide Border his steed is the best ; And save his good broadsword he weapon had none; He rode all unarm'd and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar !

He stay'd not for brake and he stopt not for stone; He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented; the gallant came late;

For a laggard in love and a dastard in war
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So bravely he enter'd the Netherby Hall,
Among bridesmen and kinsmen and brothers and all.
Then spake the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,

'O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?'

'I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;
And now I am come with this lost love of mine
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar !'

The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up,
He quaff'd off the wine and he threw down the cup;
She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar;
'Now tread we a measure!' said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace:

While her mother did fret and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and

plume;

And the bride-maidens whispered, "'T were better by

far

To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochinvar !'

One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, When they reach'd the hall door; and the charger stood near;

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur, They'll have fleet steeds that follow!' cried young Lochinvar.

There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby

clan ;

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they

ran;

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie lea;
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar !
Sir W. Scott

CXXXIV

INCIDENT

Characteristic of a Favourite Dog

N his morning rounds the master

ON Goes to learn how all things fare;

Searches pasture after pasture,
Sheep and cattle eyes with care;
And for silence, or for talk,

He hath comrades in his walk;
Four dogs, each of a different breed,
Distinguished, two for scent, and two for speed.

See a hare before him started!

-Off they fly in earnest chase;
Every dog is eager-hearted,
All the four are in the race!
And the hare whom they pursue
Knows from instinct what to do;
Her hope is near, no turn she makes;
But like an arrow to the river takes.