"Oh, hold your tongue of your former vows, For they will breed sad strife:

Oh, hold your tongue of your former vows, For I am become a wife."

He turn'd him right and round about,
And the tear blinded his e'e;

"I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground If it had not been for thee.

I might hae had a king's daughter,
Far, far beyond the sea;

I might have had a king's daughter,

Had it not been for love o' thee."

"If ye might have had a king's daughter,
Yer sel' ye had to blame;

Ye might have taken the king's daughter,
For ye kend that I was nane."

"Oh, faulse are the vows of womankind,
But fair is their faulse bodie;

I never wad hae trodden on Irish ground, Had it not been for love o' thee.'

"If I was to leave my husband dear,
And my two babes also,

Oh, what have you to take me to,
If with you I should go?"

"I hae seven ships upon the sea,
The eighth brought me to land;
With four-and-twenty bold mariners,
And music on every hand."

She has taken up her two little babes,
Kiss'd them baith cheek and chin:
Oh, fair ye weel, my ain two babes,
For I'll never see you again."

She set her foot upon the ship,

No mariners could she behold; But the sails were o' the taffetie,

And the masts o' the beaten gold.

She had not sail'd a league, a league,
A league but barely three,
When dismal grew his countenance,
And drumlie1 grew his e'e.

The masts, that were like the beaten gold,
Bent not on the heaving seas;
But the sails that were o' the taffetie,
Fill'd not in the east land breeze.

They had not sail'd a league, a league,
A league but barely three,

Until she espied his cloven foot,
And she wept right bitterlie.

66

Oh, hold your tongue of your weeping,"
says he,

Of your weeping now let me be;
I will show you how the lilies grow
On the banks of Italy."

"Oh, what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,
That the sun shines sweetly on?"

"Oh, yon are the hills of heaven,” he said,
"Where you will never win."

"Oh, whaten a mountain is yon?" she said,
"All so dreary wi' frost and snow?"
"Oh, yon is the mountain of hell," he cried,
"Where you and I will go."

And aye when she turn'd her round about,
Aye taller he seem'd for to be ;

Until that the tops o' that gallant ship
Nae taller were than he.

The clouds grew dark, and the wind grew

loud,

And the levin 2 fill'd her e'e;

And waesome wail'd3 the snow-white sprites
Upon the gurlie 4 sea.

1 Watery.

2 Tears.

8 Bemoaned.

4 Angry.

He strack the tap-mast wi' his hand,
The fore-mast wi' his knee;

And he brake that gallant ship in twain,
And sank her in the sea.

KEMPION.

HER mither died when she was young,
Which gave her cause to make great moan;
Her father married the warse 1 woman
That ever lived in Christendom.

She served well wi' foot and hand,

In everything that she could dee; 2 But her stepmither hated her warse and warse, And a powerful wicked witch was she.

"Come hither, come hither, ye cannot choose;
And lay your head low on my knee;
The heaviest weird 3 I will you read,
That ever was read to gay ladye.

"Mickle dolour sall ye dree 4

When o'er the saut seas maun ye swim; And far mair dolour sall ye dree

When up to Estmere Crags ye climb.

"I weird ye to be a fiery snake;
And borrow'd sall ye never be,

Unless that Kempion, the king's own son,
Come to the crag and thrice kiss thee.
Until the warld comes to an end,
Borrow'd 5 sall ye never be !"

3 Doom.

2 Do.

5 Rescued.

1 Worst.

♦ Much sorrow you will suffer.

Oh, mickle dolour did she dree,

And aye the saut seas o'er she swam ; And far mair dolour did she dree

On Estmere Crags, when up she clamb.

And aye she cried on Kempion,

Gin he would but come to her hand :Now word has gane to Kempion,

That siccan 1 a beast was in the land.

"Now, by my sooth," said Kempion,
"This fiery beast I'll gang and see."
"And by my sooth," said Segramour,
"My ae brother, I'll gang wi' thee.”

They twa hae biggit 2 a bonny boat,
And they hae set her to the sea;
But a mile before they reach'd the land,
Around them 'gan the red fire flee.

The worm leapt out, the worm leapt down,
She plaited nine times round stock and stane;

And aye as the boat came to the beach
She struck and bang'd it off again.

"Mind how you steer, my brother dear, Keep further off!" said Segramour; "This beast will drown us in the sea,

Or burn us up, if we come on shore."

Syne Kempion has bent an arblast bow,
And aim'd an arrow at her head;
And swore, if she didna quit the shore,
Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead.

"Out o' my stythe 3 I winna rise,

Nor quit my den for awe o' thee,
Till Kempion, the king's own son,
Come to the crag and thrice kiss me."

1 Such.

2 Built.

3 Place.

He's louted1 him o'er the Estmere Crags, And he has gi'en that beast a kiss:

In she swang, and again she cam',

And aye her speech was a wicked hiss.

"Out o' my stythe I winna rise,

Nor quit my den for the fear o' thee, Till Kempion, that courteous knight, Come to the crag and thrice kiss me."

He's louted him o'er the Estmere Crag,
And he has gi'en her kisses twa:
In she swang, and again she cam',
The fieriest beast that ever you saw.

"Out o' my stythe I winna rise,

Nor quit my den for the dread o' thee, Till Kempion, that noble prince,

Come to the crag and thrice kiss me."

He's louted him o'er the lofty crag,
And he has gi'en her kisses three:
In she swang, a loathly worm;

And out she stepp'd a fair ladye.

Nae cleeding had this lady fair,

To keep her body frae the cold;
But Kempion took his mantle off,
And around his ain true love did fold.

"And by my sooth," says Kempion,
66 My ain true love!-for this is she-
They surely had a heart o' stane,
Could put thee to this misery.

"Oh, was it wer-wolf in the wood, Or was it mermaid in the sea,

Or a wicked man, or a vile woman,

My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?"

1 Bended.