["It wasna rage for Ramsey slain
That raised the deadly feid sae hie ;]
Nor perjur'd Murray's timeless death-
It was for kindness shown to me.

["When I was led through Liddisdale,
An' thirty horsemen guarding me;
When that gude lord came to my aid,
Sae soon as he did set me free!]

"The wild bird sang, and woodlands rang,
An' sweet the sun shone on the vale;
Then thinkna ye my heart was wae
To part wi' gentle Liddisdale.

"But I will greet for Liddisdale,
Until my twa black een rin dry;
An' I will wail for Liddisdale,
As lang as I ha'e voice to cry.

"And for that gude lord I will sigh
Until my heart an' spirit fail;
An', when I die, O bury me
On the left side of Liddisdale."

"Now haud your tongue, my sister dear, Your grief will cause baith dule an' shame

Since ye were fause, in sic a cause,

The Douglas' rage I canna blame."

"Gae stem the bitter norlan' gale; Gae bid the wild wave cease to rowe; I'll own my love for Liddisdale

Afore the king, my lord, an' you."

He drew his sword o' stained steel, While neid-fire gleam'd frae ilka eye, Nor pity, nor remorse did feel,

Till dead she at his feet did lye.

"O cruel man! what ha'e I done?
I never wrong'd my lord nor thee;
I little thought my brother John

Could ha'e the heart to murder me."

Sunk was her een, her voice was gane,
Her bonny face was pale as clay,
Her hands she rais'd to heaven for grace;
Then fainted, sank, and died away.

He dight his sword upon the ground;
Wi' tentless glare his een did rowe,
Till fixing on the throbbing wound

That stain'd her breast of purest snow.

He cry'd, "O lady, fause an' fair!
Now thou art dead and I undone !

I'll never taste of comfort mair,
Nor peace of mind, aneath the sun.

"Owr mountains, seas, an' burnin' sand, I'll seek the plains of Italie;

Then kneel in Judah's distant land,

An' syne come back an' sleep wi' thee."

WILLIE WILKIN.

THE real name of this famous warlock was Johnston; how he came to acquire that of Wilkin I can get no information, though his name and his pranks are well known in Annandale and Nithsdale. He seems to have been an abridgment of Mr Michael Scott; but, though his powers were exhibited on a much more narrow scale, they were productive of actions yet more malevolent.

THE glow-worm goggled on the moss
When Wilkin rode away,

And much his aged mother fear'd,
But wist not what to say.

For near the change of every moon,
At deepest midnight tide,
He hied him to yon ancient fane
That stands by Kinnel side.

His thoughts were absent, wild his looks,
His speeches fierce and few;

But who he met, or what was done,

No mortal ever knew.

"O stay at home, my only son!

O stay at home with me!
I fear I'm secretly forewarn'd
Of ills awaiting thee.

"Last night I heard the dead-bell sound,

When all were fast asleep;

And ay it rung, and ay it sung,
Till all my flesh did creep.

"And when on slumber's silken couch
My senses dormant lay,

I saw a pack of hungry hounds,
Would make of thee their prey.

"With feeble step 1 ran to help, Or death with thee to share ;

When straight you bound my hands and feet And left me lying there.

"I saw them tear thy vitals forth;
Thy life-blood dyed the way;

I saw thy eyes all glaring red
And closed mine for ay.

"Then stay at home, my only son!

O stay at home with me!

Or take with thee this little book,
Thy guardian it shall be."