Bent not on the heaving seas; But the sails, that were o' the taffety, Fill'd not in the east land-breeze.--] They had not sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, Until she espied his cloven foot, And she wept right bitterly. "O 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."-- (_drumlie_, gloomy.) "O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, That the sun shines sweetly on?"-- "O yon are the hills of heaven," he said, "Where you will never win."-- "O whaten a mountain is yon," she said, "All so dreary wi' frost and snow?"-- "O 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 fill'd her ee; And waesome wail'd the snaw-white sprites Upon the gurlie sea.] 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. (_levin_, lightning. _gurlie_, stormy.) THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL [Illustration: 9056] |There lived a wife at Usher's Well, And a wealthy wife was she, She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them o'er the sea. They hadna been a week from her, A week but barely ane, When word came to the carline wife, That her three sons were gane. They hadna been a week from her, A week but barely three, When word came to the carline wife, That her sons she'd never see. "I wish the wind may never cease, Nor fishes in the flood, Till my three sons come hame to me. In earthly flesh and blood."-- It fell about the Martinmas, When nights are lang and mirk, The carline wife's three sons came home, And their hats were o' the birk. It neither grew in syke nor ditch, Nor yet in ony sheugh; But at the gates o' Paradise, That birk grew fair eneugh. "Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well."-- And she has made to them a bed, She's made it large and wide; And she's ta'en heir mantle her about, Sat down at the bed-side. Up then crew the red red cock, And up and crew the gray; The eldest to the youngest said, "'Tis time we were away."-- (_syke_, marsh, _sheugh_, furrow.) The cock he hadna craw'd but once, And clapp'd his wings at a', When the youngest to the eldest said, "Brother, we must awa'-- "The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, The channerin' worm doth chide; Gin we be missed out o' our place, A sair pain we maun bide. "Fare ye weel, my mother dear! Fare weel to barn and byre!