Thomas answerd with heuy
And said, Lowely ladye, lat ma be,
For I say ye certenly here

Haf I be bot the space of dayes three.
Sothly, Thomas, as I telle
ye,
You hath ben here thre yeres,
And here you may no longer be;
And I sal tele ye a skele,
To-morrow of helle ye foule fende
Amang our folke shall chuse his fee;
For you art a larg man and an hende,
Trowe you wele he will chuse thee.
Fore all the golde that may be,
Fro hens unto the worldes ende,
Sall you not be betrayed by me,
And thairfor sall you hens wende.
She broght hym euyn to Eldyn Tre,
Undir nethe the grene wode spray,
In Huntle bankes was fayr to be,
Ther breddes syng both nyzt and day.
Ferre ouyr yon montayns gray,
facon;

Ther hathe my

Fare wele, Thomas, I wende my way.

The Elfin Queen, after restoring Thomas to earth, pours forth a string of prophecies, in which we distinguish references to the events and personages of the Scottish wars of Edward III. The battles of Dupplin and Halidon are mentioned, and also Black Agues, Countess of Dunbar. There is a copy of this poem in the Museum of the Cathedral of Lincoln, another in the collection in Peterborough, but unfortunately they are all in an imperfect state. Mr. Jamieson, in his curious Collection of Scottish Ballads and Songs, has an entire copy of this ancient poem, with all the collations. The lacune of the former editions have been supplied from his copy.

NOTE C.

ALLUSIONS TO HERALDRY.-P. 578.

"The muscle is a square figure like a lozenge, but it is always voided of the field. They are carried as principal figures by the name of Learmont. Learmont of Earlstoun, in the Merss, carried or on a bend azure three muscles; of which family was Sir Thomas Learmont, who is well known by the name of Thomas the Rhymer, because he wrote his prophecies in rhime. This prophetick herauld lived in the days of King Alexander the Third, and prophesied of his death, and of many other remarkable occurrences; particularly of the union of Scotland with England, which was not accomplished until the reign of James the Sixth, some hundred years after it was foretold by this gentleman, whose prophecies are much esteemed by many of the vulgar even at this day. I was promised by a friend a sight of his prophecies, of which there is everywhere to be had an epitome, which, I suppose, is erroneous, and differs in many things from the original, it having been oft reprinted by some unskilful persons. Thus many things are amissing in the small book which are to be met with in the original, particularly these two lines concerning his neighbour, Bemerside:

Tyde what may betide,

Haig shall be laird of Bemerside.'

And indeed his prophecies concerning that ancient family have hitherto been true; for, since that time to this day, the Haigs have been lairds of that place. They carrie, Azure a saltier cantoned with two stars in chief and in base argent, as many crescents in the flanques or; and for crest a rock proper, with this motto, taken from the above written rhyme-- Tide what may.'"-NISBET on Marks of Cadency, p. 158.-He

adds, "that Thomas' meaning may be understood by heraulds when he speaks of kingdoms whose insignia seldom vary, but that individual families cannot be discovered, either beca ase they have altered their bearings, or because they are pointed out by their crests and exterior ornaments, which are charged at the pleasure of the bearer." Mr. Nisbet, however, comforts himself for this obscurity, by reflecting, that "we may certainly conclude, from his writings, that herauldry was in good esteem in his days, and well known to the vulgar."Ibid. p. 160.-It may be added, that the publication of predictions, either printed or hieroglyphical, in which noble families were pointed out by their armorial bearings, was, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, extremely common; and the influence of such predictions on the minds of the common people was so great as to occasion a prohibition, by statute, of prophecy by reference to heraldic emblems. Lord Henry Howard also (afterwards Earl of Northampton) directs against this practice much of the reasoning in his learned treatise, entitled, "A Defensation against the Poyson of pretended Prophecies."

NOTE D.-P. 580.

The strange occupation in which Waldhave beholds Merlir engaged, derives some illustration from a curious passage in Geoffrey of Monmouth's life of Merlin, above quoted. The poem, after narrating that the prophet had fled to the forest in a state of distraction, proceeds to mention, that, looking upon the stars one clear evening, he discerned from his astrological knowledge, that his wife, Guendolen, had resolved, upon the next morning, to take another husband. As he had presaged to her that this would happen, and had promised her a nuptial gift (cautioning her, however, to keep the bridegroom out of his sight), he now resolved to make good hig word. Accordingly, he collected all the stags and lesser game in his neighborhood; and, having seated himself upon a buck, drove the herd before him to the capital of Cumberland, where Guendolen resided. But her lover's curiosity leading bim to inspect too nearly this extraordinary cavalcade Mer lin's rage was awakened, and he slew him with the stroke of an antler of the stag. The original runs thus :—

"Dixerat: et silvas et saltus circuit omnes,
Cervorumque greges agmen collegit in unum,
Et damas, capreasque simul; cervoque resedit,
Et, veniente die, compellens agmina pra se,
Festinans vadit quo nubit Guendolana,
Postquam venit eo, parienter ipse coegit
Cervos ante fores, proclamans, Guendolana,
Guendolana, veni, te talia munera spectant.
Ocius ergo venit subridens Guendolana,
Gestarique virum cervo miratur, et illum
Sic parere viro, tantum quoque posse ferarum
Uniri numerum quas præ se solus agebat,
Sicut pastor oves, quas ducere suevit ad herbas.
Stabat ab excelsa sponsus spectando fenestra,
In solio mirans equitem, risumque movebat.
Ast ubi vidit eum vates, animoque quis esset
Calluit, extemplo divulsit cornua cerve
Quo gestabatur, vibrataque jecit in illum,
Et caput illius penitus contrivit, cumque
Reddidit exanimem, vitamque fugavit in auras;
Ocius inde suum, talorum verbere, cervum
Diffugiens egit, silvasque redire paravit."

For a perusal of this curious poem, accurately copied from a MS. in the Cotton Library, nearly coeval with the author, I was indebted to my learned friend, the late Mr. Ritson. There is an excellent paraphrase of it in the curious and entertaining Specimens of Early English Romances, published b▾ Mr. Ellis.

OB,

THE simple tradition, upon which the following stanzas are founded, runs thus: While two Highland hunters were passing the night in a solitary bothy (a hut, built for the purpose of hunting), and making merry over their venison and whisky, one of them expressed a wish that they had pretty lasses to complete their party. The words were scarcely uttered, when two beautiful young women, habited in green, entered the hut, dancing and singing. One of the hunters was seduced by the siren who attached herself particularly to him, to leave the hut: the other remained, and, suspicious of the fair seducers, continued to play upon a trump, or Jew's-harp, some strain, consecrated to the Virgin Mary. Day at length came, and the temptress vanished. Searching in the forest, he found the bones of his unfortunate friend, who had been torn to pieces and devoured by the fiend into whose toils he had fallen. The place was from thence called the Glen of the Green Women.

Glenfinlas is a tract of forest-ground, lying in the Highlands of Perthshire, not far from Callender in Menteith. It was formerly a royal forest, and now belongs to the Earl of Moray. This country, as well as the adjacent district of Balquidder, was, in times of yore, chiefly inhabited by the Macgregors. To the west of the Forest of Glenfinlas lies Loch Katrine, and its romantic avenue, called the Troshachs. Benledi, Benmore, and Benvoirlich, are mountains in the same district, and at no great distance from Glenfinlas. The river Teith passes Callender and the Castle of Doune, and joins the Forth near Stirling. The Pass of Lenny is immediately above Callender, and is the principal access to the Highlands, from that town. Glenartney is a forest, near Benvoirlich. whole forms a sublime tract of Alpine scenery. This ballad first appeared in the Tales of Wonder."

The

1 Coronach is the lamentation for a deceased warrior, sung by the aged of the clan.

2 In 1801. See ante, p. 567.-The scenery of this, the author's first serious attempt in poetry, reappears in the Lady of he Lake, in Waverley, and in Rob Roy.-ED.

“O shame to knighthood, strange and foul
Go, doff the bonnet from thy brow,
And shroud thee in the monkish cowl,
Which best befits thy sullen vow.

"Not so, by high Dunlathmon's fire, Thy heart was froze to love and joy, When gayly rung thy raptur'd lyre

To wanton Morna's melting eye."

Wild stared the minstrel's eyes of flame,
And high his sable locks arose,
And quick his color went and came,
As fear and rage alternate rose.

"And thou! when by the blazing oak

I lay, to her and love resign'd, Say, rode ye on the eddying smoke, Or sail'd ye on the midnight wind?

Not thine a race of mortal blood, Nor old Glengyle's pretended line; Thy dame, the Lady of the Flood

Thy sire, the Monarch of the Mine."

He mutter'd thrice St. Oran's rhyme,
And thrice St. Fillan's powerful prayer;
Then turn'd him to the eastern clime,

And sternly shook his coal-black hair.

And, bending o'er his harp, he flung

His wildest witch-notes on the wind; And loud, and high, and strange, they rung, As many a magic change they find.

Tall wax'd the Spirit's altering form, Till to the roof her stature grew; Then, mingling with the rising storm, With one wild yell away she flew.

Rain beats, hail rattles, whirlwinds tear: The slender hut in fragments flew;

1 See Appendix, Note D.

"Lewis's collection produced also what Scott justly calls his first serious attempts in verse;' and of these the earliest appears to have been the Glenfinlas. Here the scene is laid in the most favorite district of his favorite Perthshire Highlands; and the Gaelic tradition on which it was founded was far more likely to draw out the secret strength of his genius, as well as to arrest the feelings of his countrymen, than any subject with which the stores of German diablerie could have supplied

But not a lock of Moy's loose hair
Was waved by wind, or wet by dew.

Wild mingling with the howling gale,

Loud bursts of ghastly laughter rise; High o'er the minstrel's head they sail, And die amid the northern skies.

The voice of thunder shook the wood,

As ceased the more than mortal yell; And, spattering foul, a shower of blood Upon the hissing firebrands fell.

Next dropp'd from high a mangled arm;

The fingers strain'd a half-drawn blade: And last, the life-blood streaming warm, Torn from the trunk, a gasping head.

Oft o'er that head, in battling field, Stream'd the proud crest of high Benmore; That arm the broad claymore could wield, Which dyed the Teith with Saxon gore.

Woe to Moneira's sullen rills!
Woe to Glenfinlas' dreary glen!
There never son of Albin's hills
Shall draw the hunter's shaft agen!

E'en the tired pilgrim's burning feet

At noon shall shun that sheltering den, Lest, journeying in their rage, he meet The wayward Ladies of the Glen.

And we-behind the Chieftain's shield, No more shall we in safety dwell; None leads the people to the fieldAnd we the loud lament must swell.

O hone a rie'! O hone a rie'!

The pride of Albin's line is o'er! And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree;

We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!

him. It has been alleged, however, that the poet makes a German use of his Scottish materials; that the legend, as briefly told in the simple prose of his preface, is more affecting than the lofty and sonorous stanzas themselves; that the vague terror of the original dream loses, instead of gaining, by the expanded elaboration of the detail There may be some thing in these objections: but no man can pretend to be at impartial critic of the piece which first awoke his own childish ear to the power of poetry and the melody of verse. '—Laje ef Scott, vol. ii. p. 25.