Fain would I tell my friends and fellow-sufferers of my translation hence. Of all the joys and ecstacies of that celestial clime, ycleped the land of faery; were it not that one is here whose sex forbids it, and whose gentle nature from such a tale would shrink, as doth the flower before the nipping gale. You all have heard of that celestial form, the white lady? And of that wan and beatific presence there lives in my remembrance some faint image of saintly beauty. But list to me, my friends, and do not smile, far less break forth with loud uncourteous neigh, like war horse in the charge,--vile waste of breath! convulsive, unrestrained. But hear the truth: _It was not she who bore me from this land_,--not she, _the white lady_, as all divined. No, it was a form of flesh, and that flesh too of most rare quality. Fair, witching, plump, rosy and amorous; and of unmarred proportions. Sooth, she who lured me from my rustic home no other was than wandering minstreless, queen to the mightiest harper ever born. Sole empress of a tuneful wayward choir, thoughtless and giddy. But their music stole my very soul away. What could I do but follow it, to listen and to sing. In that bright train I sought the Scottish court, the nobles' hall, and every motely scene of loud festivity throughout the land. There have I heard and seen such scenes of love, of dalliance, and of mirth, of deep intrigue and violent cruelty, as eye of minstrel hath not witnessed. Yes, I have seen things not to be expressed, at least not here. Therefore I'll change the rule this night pursued, of saying what myself have seen and done. The fairy land in which I sojourned was fair Caledon; and there I had my living minstrel joys in high abundance. But I grieve to say, a fatal brawl placed all of us within the line to which the sword of vengeance extends its dreadful sway. Our group dispersed. The soul of melody was then no more! The sounds of harmony divine were hushed; all scattered on the winds of other lands, and other climes, to charm with wailing numbers. Southward I came, amid the border clans to trust my life, men lawless as myself. They once had saved me when a helpless orphan. Whom could I better trust? And I have found their generosity alone out-done by their own courage. For my adventures, let this sketch suffice. And though not of the fairyland, I will relate a tale, as pure, as wonderful and full of mystery, as if in other worlds I'd learned it. I had it from a simple peasant's mouth, an old grey hind upon the Sidley hills, who vouched its truth. With faltering tongue, and palpitating heart, for love, for life, and all the soul holds dear, I say my tale. O be my soul rapt to the estimate at which I hold the prize, and the divine and holy narrative.