“Ah! well I wot, he never would rest,

Nor his meate should do him no goode, Until he had slain thee, Child of Elle,

And seen thy deare heart's bloode.”
KNIGHT.—“O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,

And a little space him fro,
I would not care for thy cruel father,

Nor the worst that he could doe.
“O ladye, wert thou in thy saddle sette,

And once without this walle,
I would not care for thy cruel father,

Nor the worst that might befalle.”
Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,
And
aye

her heart was woe :
At length he seized her lily-white hand,

And downe the ladder he drewe :
And thrice he clasped her to his breaste,

And kist her tenderlie:
The tears that fell from her fair eyes

Ranne like the fountayne free.
He mounted himself, on his stede so talle,

And her on her fair palfraye,
And slung his bugle about his necke,

And roundlye they rode awaye.
All this beheard her owne damselle,

In her bed whereas shee ley;
Quoth shee, “My Lord shall knowe of this,

So I shall have golde and fee.
“Awake, awake, thou baron bold !

Awake, my noble dame!
Your daughter is fledde with the Child of Elle,

To do the deed of shame.”

The baron he woke, the baron he rose,

And called his merrye men all : “And come thou forth, Sir John, the knighte,

Thy ladye is carried to thrall.”
Fair Emmeline scant had ridden a mile,

A mile forth of the towne,
When she was aware of her father's men

Come galloping over the downe:
And foremost came the carlish knighte,

Sir John of the north countraye : “Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure,

Nor carry that ladye awaye. “For she is come of hye lineage,

And was of a ladye borne; And it ill beseems thee-a false churl's sonne, To carry

her hence to scorne.” “Nowe loud thou lyest, Sir John the knighte,

Nowe thou dost lye of me;
A knighte me bred, and a ladye me bore,

Soe never did none by thee.
“But light nowe downe, my ladye faire,

Light downe, and hold my steed; While I and this discourteous knighte

Do try this arduous deede. “But light nowe downe, my deare ladye,

Light downe, and hold my horse; While I and this discourteous knighte

Do try our valour's force.” Fair Emmeline sighed, fair Emmeline wept,

And aye her heart was woe, While 'twixt her love and the carlish knighte

Past many a baneful blowe.

The Child of Elle he fought so well

As his weapon he waved amaine, That soone he had slain the carlish knighte,

And laid him upon the plaine.
And nowe the baron and all his men

Full fast approached nye:
Ah, what may lady Emmeline doe?

'Twere nowe no boote to flye.
Her lover he put his horne to his mouth,

And blew both loud and shrill,
And soone he sawe his owne merry men

Come ryding over the hill.
“Nowe hold thy hand, thou bold baron,

Ι I pray thee hold thy hand,
Nor ruthless rend two gentle hearts

Fast knit in true love's band.
“ Thy daughter I have dearly loved,

Full long and many a day; But with such love as holy kirke

Hath freelye said wee may.
“O give consent shee may be mine,

And bless a faithfull paire;
My lands and livings are not small,

My house and lineage faire :
“My mother she was an earl's daughter,

And a noble knighte my sire."
The baron he frown'd and turn'd away

With mickle dole and ire.
Fair Emmeline sigh’d, fair Emmeline wept,

And did all tremblinge stand:
At length she sprang upon her knee,

And held his lifted hand.

a

Pardon, my lorde and father deare,

This faire young knighte and mee: Trust me, but for the carlish knighte,

I never had fled from thee. - Oft have

you
call'd
your

Emmeline
Your darling and your joye;
O! let not, then, your harsh resolves

Your Emmeline destroye."
The baron he stroakt his dark brown cheeke,

And turned his head asyde,
To wipe away the starting teare,

He proudely strave to hyde.
In deep revolving thought he stoode,

And mused a little space;
Then raised fair Emmeline from the grounde,

With many a fond embrace.
Here, take her, Child of Elle,” he sayd,

And gave her lillye white hand;-
“Here, take my deare and only child,

And with her half my land. “Thy father once mine honour wrong'd,

In days of youthful prideDo thou the injurye repayre,

In fondness for thy bride : “And as thou love her, and hold her deare,

Heaven prosper thee and thine ! And now my blessing wend wi' thee! My lovelye Emmeline !"

OLD BALLAD. JOHN GILPIN.

JOHN GILPIN was a citizen

Of credit and renown,
A train-band Captain eke was he

Of famous London town.
John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear-

Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we

No holiday have seen. “To-morrow is our wedding day,

And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton,

All in a chaise and pair.
"My sister and my sister's child,

Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise, so you must ride,

On horseback after we.
He soon replied-"I do admire

Of womankind but one,
And you are she, my dearest dear,

Therefore it shall be done. “I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know, And my good friend the Callender

Will lend his horse to go.”
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin—" That's well said ;

And for that wine is dear,
We will be furnish'd with our own,

Which is both bright and clear.”