CLERK SAUNDERS.

FROM the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, (iii. 175,) where it was first published. It was "taken from Mr. Herd's MSS., with several corrections from a shorter and more imperfect copy in the same volume, and one or two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of the stanzas."

That that part of the ballad which follows the death of the lovers is an independent story, is obvious both from internal evidence, and from the separate existence of those concluding stanzas in a variety of forms: as, Sweet William's Ghost, (Tea-Table Miscellany, ii. 142,) Sweet William and May Margaret, (Kinloch, p. 241,) William and Marjorie, (Motherwell, p. 186.) Of this second part, Motherwell observes, that it is often made the tail-piece to other ballads where a deceased lover appears to his mistress. The two were, however, combined by Sir Walter Scott, and the present Editor has contented himself with indicating distinctly the close of the proper story.

An inferior copy of Clerk Saunders, published by Jamieson, is inserted in the Appendix, for the sake of

a few valuable stanzas. It resembles the Swedish ballad of The Cruel Brother, (Svenska Folk-Visor, iii. 107,) which, however, is much shorter. The edition of Buchan, (i. 160,) is entirely worthless. A NorthCountry version of the First Part is given by Kinloch, Ancient Scottish Ballads, 233.

PART FIRST.

CLERK SAUNDERS and may Margaret,
Walked ower yon garden green ;
And sad and heavy was the love
That fell thir twa between.

"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said, "A bed for you and me !"

"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret,

"Till anes we married be;

"For in may come my seven bauld brothers, Wi' torches burning bright;

They'll say 'We hae but ae sister,

And behold she's wi' a knight !'”—

a

10

"Then take the sword from my scabbard,

And slowly lift the pin;

And you may swear, and safe your aith,
Ye never let Clerk Saunders in.

15

"And take a napkin in your hand,
And tie up baith your bonny een;

And you may swear, and safe your aith,
Ye saw me na since late yestreen."

It was about the midnight hour,
When they asleep were laid,

When in and came her seven brothers,
Wi' torches burning red.

When in and came her seven brothers,

Wi' torches burning bright;

They said, "We hae but ae sister,

And behold her lying with a knight!"

Then out and spake the first o' them,

20

25

“I bear the sword shall gar him die!”

And out and spake the second o' them,

"His father has nae mair than he!"

And out and spake the third o' them, "I wot that they are lovers dear!”

And out and spake the fourth o' them,

30

35

"They hae been in love this mony a year!"

20. In Kinloch's version of this ballad we have an additional stanza here:

"Ye'll take me in your arms twa,

Ye'll carry me into your bed,

And ye may swear, and save your aith,

That in your bour floor I ne'er gae'd."

Then out and spake the fifth o' them,

"It were great sin true love to twain !" And out and spake the sixth of them,

"It were shame to slay a sleeping man!" 40

Then up and gat the seventh o' them,

And never a word spake he;

But he has striped his bright brown brand
Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye.

Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she

turn'd

Into his arms as asleep she lay ; And sad and silent was the night

That was atween thir twae.

45

And they lay still and sleeped sound,

Until the day began to daw ;

50

And kindly to him she did say,

"It is time, true love, you were awa."

But he lay still, and sleeped sound,

Albeit the sun began to sheen;
She looked atween her and the wa',
And dull and drowsie were his een.

Then in and came her father dear,

Said "Let a' your mourning be: I'll carry the dead corpse to the clay,

And I'll come back and comfort thee."

55

60

"Comfort weel your seven sons,

For comforted will I never be:

I ween 'twas neither knave nor loon
Was in the bower last night wi' me.”-

PART SECOND.

The clinking bell gaed through the town,
To carry the dead corse to the clay;
And Clerk Saunders stood at may Margaret's
window,

I wot, an hour before the day.

"Are ye sleeping, Margaret?" he says,

"Or are ye waking presentlie? Give me my faith and troth again, I wot, true love, I gied to thee."

"Your faith and troth ye sall never get,

Nor our true love sall never twin, Until ye come within my bower, And kiss me cheik and chin.".

"My mouth it is full cold, Margaret,
It has the smell, now, of the ground;

1. The custom of the passing bell is still kept up in many villages in Scotland. The sexton goes through the town, ringing a small bell, and announcing the death of the departed, and the time of the funeral.

SCOTT.