that many of its verses, even as they now stand, are purely traditionary, and fair, and genuine parcels of antiquity, unalloyed with any base admixture of modern invention, and in nowise altered, save in those changes of language to which all oral poetry is unavoidably subjected, in its progress from one age to another." MOTHERWELL. We have given _Gil Morrice_ as it stands in the _Reliques_, (iii. 132,) degrading to the margin those stanzas which are undoubtedly spurious, and we have added an ancient traditionary version, obtained by Motherwell, which, if it appear short and crude, is at least comparatively incorrupt. _Chield Morice_, taken down from recitation, and printed in Motherwell's _Minstrelsy_, (p. 269,) nearly resembles _Gil Morrice_, as here exhibited. We have also inserted in the Appendix _Childe Maurice_, "the very old imperfect copy," mentioned in the _Reliques_, and first published from the Percy MS. by Jamieson. The sets of _Gil Morrice_ in the collections of Herd, Pinkerton, Ritson, &c., are all taken from Percy. Gil Morrice was an erles son, His name it waxed wide: It was nae for his great riches, Nor zet his mickle pride; Bot it was for a lady gay[L5] 5 That liv'd on Carron side. "Quhair sall I get a bonny boy, That will win hose and shoen; That will gae to Lord Barnard's ha', And bid his lady cum? 10 "And ze maun rin my errand, Willie, And ze may rin wi' pride; Quhen other boys gae on their foot, On horseback ze sall ride." "O no! O no! my master dear! 15 I dare nae for my life; I'll no gae to the bauld barons, For to triest furth his wife." "My bird Willie, my boy Willie, My dear Willie," he sayd: 20 "How can ze strive against the stream? For I sall be obeyd." "Bot, O my master dear!" he cry'd, "In grene wod ze're zour lain; Gi owre sic thochts, I walde ze rede, 25 For fear ze should be tain." "Haste, haste, I say, gae to the ha', Bid hir cum here wi' speid: If ze refuse my heigh command, I'll gar zour body bleid. 30 "Gae bid hir take this gay mantel, 'T is a' gowd bot the hem; Bid hir cum to the gude grene wode, And bring nane hot hir lain: "And there it is, a silken sarke, 35 Hir ain hand sewd the sleive; And bid hir cum to Gill Morice, Speir nae bauld barons leave." "Yes, I will gae zour black errand, Though it be to zour cost; 40 Sen ze by me will nae be warn'd, In it ze sall find frost.