"There's a sair pain in my head, father, There's a sair pain in my side; And ill, O ill, am I, father,

This day for to be a bride."

ye maun busk this bonnie bride, And put a gay mantle on ;

For she shall wed this auld French Lord, Gin she should die the morn.”

Some put on the gay green robes,
And some put on the brown,
But Janet put on the scarlet robes,
To shine foremost through the town.

And some they mounted the black steed, And some mounted the brown,

But Janet mounted the milk-white steed, To ride foremost through the town.

"O, wha will guide your horse, Janet?
O, wha will guide him best?"
"O, wha but Willie, my true love?
He kens I lo'e him best!"

And when they cam to Marie's kirk,
To speak the holy name,

Fair Janet's cheek looked pale and wan,
And her colour gaed and came.

When dinner it was past and done,
And dancing to begin;

"O, we'll go take the bride's maidens,
And we'll go fill the ring."

O ben then cam the auld French Lord,
Saying, "Bride, will ye dance with me?"
"Awa', awa', ye auld French Lord,
Your face I downa see."

O ben then came now Sweet Willie,
He came with ane advance;
"O, I'll go tak the bride's maidens,
And we'll go tak a dance."

"I've seen ither days wi' you, Willie,
And so has mony mae;

Ye would hae danced wi' me mysel,
Let a' my maidens gae."

O ben then came now Sweet Willie, Saying, "Bride, will ye dance wi' me?" "Ay, by my sooth, and that I will,

Gin my back should break in three."

[And she's ta'en Willie by the hand; The tear blinded her ee;

"O, I wad dance wi' my true love, Tho' burst my heart in three !"]

She hadna turned her through the dance,
Through the dance but thrice,
When she fell down at Willie's feet,
And up did never rise!

[She's ta'en her bracelet frae her arm, Her garter frae her knee;

"Gie that, gie that to my young son, He'll ne'er his mother see."]

Willie's ta'en the key of his coffer,
And gi'en it to his man,

Gae hame and tell my mother dear,
My horse he has me slain;

Bid her be kind to my young son,
For father he has nane."

["Gar deal, gar deal the bread," he cried,
"Gar deal, gar deal the wine,
This day has seen my true love's death,
This night shall witness mine."]

The tane was buried in Marie's kirk,
And the tither in Marie's quier.
Out of the tane there grew a birk,
And the tither a bonnie brier.*

BARBARA ALLAN.

From Allan Ramsay's "Tea-Table Miscellany." A longer though inferior version appeared in Percy's Reliques.

It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves they were fallen,
That Sir John Graem, in the west country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.

He sent his man down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling;
"O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin you be Barbara Allan."

* This verse is the common property of all the ballad. makers-a despised stage-decoration that does duty whenever and wherever it is wanted.

O hooly, hooly rose she up,

To the place where he was lying, And when she drew the curtain, said, "Young man, I think you're dying."

"O I am sick and very sick,

And it's all for Barbara Allan."
O the better for me ye's never be,
Tho' your heart's blood were a-spillin'.

'O dinna ye mind, young man," said she,

When the red wine ye were fillin',

That ye made the healths gae round and round, And slighted Barbara Allan?”

He turned his face unto the wall,

And death was with him dealing; "Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, Be kind to Barbara Allan."

Slowly, slowly rose she up,

And slowly, slowly left him,

And sighing, said, she could not stay,
Since death of life had left him.

She had not gone a mile but twa,

When she heard the dead-bell knellin',

And every jow that the dead-bell gied,
Cried, "Woe to Barbara Allan !"

"O mother, mother, make my bed,
O make it fast and narrow;
Since my love died for me to-day,
I'll die for him to-morrow."

FAIR HELEN OF KIRCONNEL.

The following very popular ballad has been handed down by tradition in its present imperfect state. The affecting incident on which it is founded is well known. A lady, of the name of Helen Irving, or Bell, (for this is disputed by the two clans,) daughter of the laird of Kirconnel, in Dumfriesshire, and celebrated for her beauty, was beloved by two gentlemen in the neighbourhood. The name of the favoured suitor, was Adam Fleming, of Kirkpatrick; that of the other has escaped tradition, though it has been alleged that he was a Bell, of Blacket House. The addresses of the latter were, however, favoured by the friends of the lady, and the lovers were therefore obliged to meet in secret, and by night, in the churchyard of Kirconnel, a romantic spot, surrounded by the river Kirtle. During one of these private interviews, the jealous and despised lover suddenly appeared on the opposite bank of the stream, and levelled his carbine at the breast of his rival. Helen threw herself before her lover, received in her bosom the bullet, and died in his arms. A desperate and mortal combat ensued between Fleming and the murderer, in which the latter was cut to pieces. Other accounts say that Fleming pursued his enemy to Spain, and slew him in the streets of Madrid.-SIR W. SCOTT.

I WISH I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
O that I were where Helen lies,
On fair Kirconnel Lee!

Curst be the heart that thought the thought,
And curst the hand that fired the shot,
When in my arms burd* Helen dropt,

And died to succour me!

O think na ye my heart was sair,

When my love dropt down and spak nae mair! There did she swoon wi' meikle care,

On fair Kirconnel Lee.

* "Burd:" maid.

M