[First.
THOMAS THE RHYMER.
691
returned with the hart and hind, to the Land of Faërie. To make his peace with the more severe antiquaries, the Editor has prefixed to the Second Part some remarks on Learmont's prophecies,
PART FIRST.
Ancient.
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank;
A ferlie[1] he spied wi' his e'e;[2]
And there he saw a ladye bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree,
A ferlie[1] he spied wi' his e'e;[2]
And there he saw a ladye bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree,
Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk,
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka[3] tett of her horse's mane,
Hang fifty siller bells and nine.
Her mantle o' the velvet fyne;
At ilka[3] tett of her horse's mane,
Hang fifty siller bells and nine.
True Thomas, he pulled 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."
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 am but the queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.
"That name does not belang to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
That am hither come to visit thee.
"Harp and carp,[4] Thomas," she said;
"Harp and carp along with me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be."
"Harp and carp along with me;
And if ye dare to kiss my lips,
Sure of your bodie I will be."
"Betide me weal, betide me woe,
That weird shall never danton me.[5]"
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.
That weird shall never danton me.[5]"
Syne he has kissed her rosy lips,
All underneath the Eildon Tree.
"Now, ye maun go wi' me," she said;
"True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Through weal or woe as may chance to be."
"True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me;
And ye maun serve me seven years,
Through weal or woe as may chance to be."
She mounted on her milk-white steed;
She's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, when'er her bridle rung,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.
She's ta'en true Thomas up behind;
And aye, when'er her bridle rung,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.
O they rade on, and farther on;
The steed gaed swifter than the wind,
Until they reached a desart wide,
And living land was left behind.
The steed gaed swifter than the wind,
Until they reached a desart wide,
And living land was left behind.