"And tak' your love, now, lady Elspat; And my best blessing you baith upon; For gin he be your first true-love,

He is my eldest sister's son !

"There stands a steed in my stable,

Cost me baith gowd and white monie ;
Ye'se get as meikle o' my free land
As he'll ride about in a simmer's day."

VOL. I.

P

ANNAN WATER.

THIS ballad was first published in the "Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border," and is here given without any alteration. I have not been able to discover any other extant version.

"ANNAN water's deep to wade,

And my love Annie's wondrous bonnie ;
Laith am I she should wet her feet,
Because I love her best of ony.

"Gar saddle me the bonnie black,

Gar saddle sune, and mak' him ready;
For I will down the Gatehope-slack,
And all to see my bonnie lady."

He has loupen on the bonny black,
And stirred him wi' the spur right sairly;
But, or he wan the Gatehope-slack,
I trow his steed was wae and weary.

He has loupen on the bonny gray,
He rade the right gate and the ready;
I trow he would neither stent nor stay,
For he was seeking his bonnie lady.

O he has ridden ower field and fell,
Through muir, and moss, and mony a mire;

His spurs

o' steel were sair to bide,

And frae her fore-feet flew the fire.

"My bonny gray now play your part;

Gin ye be the steed that wins my dearie, Wi' corn and hay ye'se aye be fed,

And never spur shall make you weary!"

The gray was a mare, and a right good mare, But when she wan the Annan water,

She couldna hae ridden a furlong mair,

Had a thousand merks been wadded at her.

"O boatman, boatman, put aff your boat-
Put aff your boat for gowden monie!
I cross the drumly stream to-night,
Or never mair I see my Annie !"

"OI was sworn sae late yestreen,

And not by ae aith, but by many;
And for a' the gowd in fair Scotland,
I daurna tak' ye through to Annie."

The side was stey, and the bottom deep,
Frae bank to brae the water pouring ;
And the bonny gray mare did sweat for fear,
For she heard the water-kelpie roaring.

O he has pu'd aff his dapperpy coat,
The silver buttons glanced bonny;
The waistcoat bursted aff his breast,
He was sae full o' melancholy.

He has ta'en the ford at that stream-tail;
I wot he swam baith strong and steady ;

But the stream was broad, and his strength did fail, And he never saw his bonnie lady.

O wae betide the frush saugh-wand,
And wae betide the bush of brier!
It brak' into my true-love's hand,

When his strength did fail, and his limbs did tire.

"And wae betide ye, Annan water,

This night that ye are a drumly river! For over thee I'll build a bridge,

That ye nae mair true love may sever."

HUGH OF LINCOLN.

THERE are several versions of this very beautiful ballad. That given in Percy's "Reliques" under the name of “The Jew's Daughter" is somewhat deficient in the commencement, but the want has been supplied from another copy in Herd's collection. Messrs Jamieson and Motherwell have also preserved copies from recitation, which severally are of great merit.

The historical basis of the ballad, being the murder of a Christian child by the Jews of Lincoln, in the reign of Henry III., is well known, if not to the students of history, at least to the lovers of poetry; for it furnished Geoffrey Chaucer with the subject of his "Prioresse's Tale," perhaps the most pathetic of his many noble poems.

A'THE boys of merry Lincoln,

Α

Were playing at the ba';

And wi' them was the sweet Sir Hugh,
The flower amang them a'.

He kepped the ba' then wi' his foot,
And catch'd it wi' his knee,
And even in at the Jew's window,

Wi' speed he gar'd it flee.

Out then cam' the Jew's daughter-
"Will ye come in and dine?"

"I winna come in, and I canna come in
Till I get that ba' of mine.