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SIR PATRICK SPENS.

THE various versions of this ancient ballad given in the collections of Percy, Motherwell, Scott, Finlay and others, are proofs of its high celebrity and remote origin. But the commentators cannot agree as to its historical foundation. Our Editor, Mr. Hall, prudently remarks," that the ballad was founded upon an actual occurrence there may be little doubt." Let not the reader smile at the forcibly depicted reluctance of the gallant sailor to undertake this voyage to Norway in the winter season. In the reign of James III., two hundred years after the date assigned to this composition, an Act of the Scottish Parliament prohibited all vessels from being navigated, "frae the feast of St. Simon's day and Jude unto the feast of our Lady, called Candlemas." Sir Patrick's conviction of the danger he must undergo, serves only to heighten the picture of his courage in undertaking the adventure, and of his skill and energy in attempting to avert the catastrophe. We doubt if any age or any country has produced a ballad more simple, more powerful, and more pathetic.

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GIL MORRICE.

THIS ballad, in common with many others, has been interpolated, altered, and variously arranged by the hands of successive annotators. All, however, seem to agree, that there is no very early copy of it in existence; and the very fact of its coming to light at a comparatively recent date, gave rise to many versions "from the mouths of nurses and old women." Previously to Dr. Percy's printing it in his "Reliques," it had passed through two editions in Scotland, the latter having been published at Glasgow in 1755. The tragedy of "Douglas," founded upon it, and originally performed at Edinburgh in 1756, gave it an extensive popularity, and "about that period," writes Mr. Motherwell, "it underwent a total revisal." He then adds, "But though it has been grievously corrupted by ingenious interpolations, as well as paraphrastic additions, the most scrupulous enquirer into the authenticity of ancient song can have no hesitation in admitting, that many of its verses, even as they now stand, are purely traditionary, and fair and genuine parcels of antiquity, unalloyed with any base ad ixture of modern invention, and in no wise altered, save in those changes of language to which all oral poetry is unavoidably subjected in its progress from one age to another."

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And ye will see, before its nicht, Sma' cause ye ha' to vaunt,

'And sen I maun your errand rin,

Sae sair against my will, I'se mak a vow, and keep it trow, It sall be done for ill!'

When he cam to the broken brig,

He bent his bow and swam; And when he can to grass growing, Set down his feet and ran.

And when he cam to Barnards yeat,

Wold neither chap nor ca', Bot set his bent bow to his breist,

And lichtly lap the wa'.

He wold na tell the man his errand,
Thoch he stude at the yeat;
Bot streight into the ha' he cam,

Whar they were set at meat.

Hail! hail! my gentle sire and dame!

My message winna wait,— Dame, ye maun to the grene wode gae,

Afore that it be late.

'Ye're bidden tak this gay mantel,

'Tis a' gowd bot the hem:

Ye maun haste to the gude grene wode Ein by yoursell alane.

And there it is, a silkin sark,

Your ain hand sewn the sleive: Ye maun gae speik to Gil Morrice,

Speir nae bauld barons leive.'

The lady stamped wi' her foot,

And winked wi' her eie; Bot a' that shee cold say or do, Forbidden he wold nae be.

'It's surely to my bower-woman,
It neir cold be to me.'-
I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady,
I trow that ye be shee.'

Then up and spak the wylie nurse

(The bairn upon her knee), If it be come from Gil Morrice, It's deir welcum to me.'

Ye lie, ye lie, ye filthy nurse,
Sae loud I hear ye lie;
I brocht it to Lord Barnards lady,
I trow ye be nae shee.'

Then up and spoke the bauld baron,
An angry man was he:
He has tane the table wi' his foot,
Sae has he wi' his knee,
Till siller cup and mazer dish

In flinders he gard fiie.

Gae bring a robe of your cleiding, Wi a' the haste ye can; And I'll gae to the gude grene wode, And speik wi your lemman.'

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