And Jessie blush’d, and whisper’d soft— “Meet me to-night when the moon’s aloft; I’ve dream’d, fair knight, long time of thee— I thought thou earnest courting me.” XIV. When the moon her yellow horn display’d, Alone to the trysting went the maid; When all the stars were shining bright, Alone to the trysting went the knight. XV. “I have loved thee long, I have loved thee well, Maiden, oh more than words can tell! Maiden, thine eyes like diamonds shine; Maiden, maiden, be thou mine!” XVI. “Fair sir, thy suit I’ll ne’er deny— Though poor my lot, my hopes are high; I scorn a lover of low degree— None but a knight shall marry me.” XVII. He took her by the hand so white, And gave her a ring of the gold so bright; “Maiden, whose eyes like diamonds shine— Maiden, maiden, now thou’rt mine!” XVIII. He lifted her on his steed of gray, And they rode till morning away, away— Over the mountain and over the moor, And over the rocks, to the dark sea-shore. XIX. “We have ridden east, we have ridden west— I’m weary, fair knight, and I fain would rest, Say, is thy dwelling beyond the sea? Hast thou a good ship waiting for me?” XX. “I have no dwelling beyond the sea, I have no good ship waiting for thee; Thou shalt sleep with me on a couch of foam, And the depths of the ocean shall be thy home.” XXI. The gray steed plunged in the billows clear, And the maiden’s shrieks were sad to hear. “Maiden, whose eyes like diamonds shine— Maiden, maiden, now thou’rt mine!” XXII. Loud the cold sea-blast did blow, As they sank ’mid the angry waves below— Down to the rocks where the serpents creep, Twice five hundred fathoms deep. XXIII. At morn a fisherman, sailing by, Saw her pale corse floating high; He knew the maid by her yellow hair And her lily skin so soft and fair. XXIV. Under a rock on Scarba’s shore, Where the wild winds sigh and the breakers roar, They dug her a grave by the water clear, Among the sea-weed salt and sere. XXV. And every year at Beltan E’en, The Kelpie gallops across the green, On a steed as fleet as the wintry wind, With Jessie’s mournful ghost behind. XXVI. I warn you, maids, whoever you be, Beware of pride and vanity; And ere on change of love you reckon, Beware the Kelpie of Corrievreckan. CHARLES MACKAY. THE ELF OF THE WOODLANDS. A CHILD’S STORY.