Folk lore : $b or, Superstitious beliefs in the west of Scotland within this century — John Shaqi
Folk lore : $b or, Superstitious beliefs in the west of Scotland within this centuryNapier, James
History
Folk lore : $b or, Superstitious beliefs in the west of Scotland within this century
Napier, James
Folklore -- Scotland; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
was beyond description. It seemed to extend throughout the whole length
and breadth of the hill. The superb Gothic pillars by which the roof was
supported were so large and lofty, that the pillars of the "Chaury Kirk
or of the Pluscardin Abbey are no more to be compared to them than the
Knock of Alves is to be compared to Balrimes or Ben-a-chi." They were of
gold and silver, and were fretted like the west window of the Chaury
Kirk (Elgin Cathedral), with wreaths of flowers, composed of diamonds
and precious stones of all manner of beautiful colours. The key stones
of the arches, instead of being escutcheoned, were ornamented also with
clusters of diamonds in brilliant devices. From the middle of the roof,
where the arches met, was hung, suspended by a gold chain, an immense
lamp of one hollowed pearl, and perfectly transparent, in the centre of
which was a large carbuncle, which, by the power of magic, turned round
continually, and shed throughout all the hall a clear mild light like
that of the setting sun. But the hall was so large, and these dazzling
objects so far removed, that their blended radiance cast no more than a
pleasing mellow lustre around, and excited no other than agreeable
sensations in the eyes of Child Rowland. The furniture of the hall was
suitable to its architecture; and at the further end, under a splendid
canopy, sitting on a gorgeous sofa of velvet, silk and gold, and
"kembing her yellow hair wi' a silver kemb,"
"Was his sister Burd Ellen.
She stood up him before,
God rue or thee poor luckless fode (man),
What hast thou to do here?
And hear ye this my youngest brother,
Why badena ye at hame?
Had ye a hunder and thousand lives
Ye canna brook are o' them.
And sit thou down; and wae, oh wae!
That ever thou was born,
For came the King o' Elfland in,
Thy leccam (body) is forlorn."
After a long conversation with his sister, the two folding doors were
burst open with tremendous violence, and in came the King of Elfland,
shouting--
"With _fi_, _fe_, _fa_, and _fum_,
I smell the blood of a Christian man,
Be he dead, be he living, with my brand
I'll clash his harns frae his harn pan."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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