With her yellow hair, that glittered fair, She dried the trickling tear; He shot the roebuck on the lee, The dun deer on the law; The glamour sure was in his ee When Ringan nigh did draw. O'er heathy edge, through rustling sedge, Far from relief, they seized the chief; back To Soulis' castle gray; Syne onward fure for Branxholm tower Where all his merry-men lay. Now, welcome, noble Branxholm's heir! Thrice welcome,' quoth Soulis, 'to me. She sighed the name of Branxholm's heir, Say, dost thou repair to my castle fair, The youth that loved her dear. Now, be content, my bonny May, And take it for your hame; Or ever and aye shall ye rue the day, You heard young Branxholm's name. 'O'er Branxholm tower, ere the morning hour, When the lift is like lead sae blue, The smoke shall roll white on the weary night, And the flame shall shine dimly through.' Syne he's ca'd on him Ringan Red, A sturdy kemp was he; From friend, or foe, in Border feid, Who never a foot would flee. Red Ringan sped, and the spearmen led Up Goranberry slack; Ay, many a wight, unmatched in fight, Who never more came back. And bloody set the westering sun, And bloody rose he up; But little thought young Branxholm's heir Where he that night should sup. They heated it red and fiery hot, Till the burnished brass did glimmer and shine. They rolled him up in a sheet of lead, At the Skelf-hill, the cauldron still The men of Liddesdale can show ; And on the spot, where they boil'd the pot, The spreat and the deer-hair ne'er shall grow. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET. THIS ballad is another extract from Percy's "Reliques," wherein it is given with some corrections from a M.S. copy transmitted from Scotland. Mr. Hall quotes several English versions. We give the title of one of these. "A Tragical Story on the unfortunate love of Lord Thomas and fair Ellinor, together with the downfal of the Brown Girl." They differ from each other as to the catastrophe; but the subject not being historical, these minor differences are unimportant. We doubt not that our Editor makes the best possible selection. The nut-browne bride has gowd and gear, Up then rose fair Annets father Fair Annet she has gat nane; And the little beauty fair Annet has, O it wull soon be gane!' |