It was a holy covenant vow,

We made to heaven to keep,

And it's a' for our broken covenant vow,
That we maun sit and weep.

The gerse may be green on yon bonnie hill tap,
And the heather sweetly bloom,

But there nae mair will we sit at e'en,

For our hearts are in the tomb !

The hectic glow is upon my cheek,
And the lily hue on thine,

And sune will ye sleep by your martyr's side,

And sune will I sleep by mine!

R. ALLAN.

THE GUDEWIFE O' WILLOWDEN HA'.

THE waefu' gudewife o' the Willowden Ha'
Was ance the beauty and pride o' the parish;
Her daddie had died and left her his a',

Her uncle had siller and she was his heiress.
Sic comin' and gangin', and wooin' and thrangin',
And tynin' and winnen', was ne'er i' your kennin';
But the laddie that carried the lassie awa',
Was Johnnie Gilfillan o' Willowden Ha'.

The lassie was bred in a braw borough toon,

Where fouth o' gude manners she learned fu' ready; When a' the new fashions frae Lunnon cam' doun, Where a' the young misses are fine as my lady. Wi' ribbons and ruffles, wi' feathers and muffles, Wi' fringes and laces, and pearlins and braces, Wi' everything bonnie and everything braw, She dazz'lt the folks o' the Willowden Ha'.

THE GUDEWIFE O' WILLOWDEN HA'.

His daddie was vauntie, his minnie was vain,

They gied to their Johnnie the house and hadden ;
And muckle was gotten, and plenty was gaun

For the back and the belly the day o' the waddin'.
Wi' dautin' and kissin', wi' keekin' and dressin',
Wi' jauntin' and callin', and rantin' and ballin',
The day slippit owre and the nicht flew awa,'
And a' was fu' happy at Willowden Ha.'

But wae to the wane o' the blythe hinnymoon,

The luve o' the bonnie young leddy miscarried;
When the daffin' was dune she gaed a' out o' tune,
An' she thocht an unco thing noo to be marry't.
An' thinkin' and ruein', an' wishin' an' trewin',
An' greetin' an' sighin', an' sabbin' an' cryin';
The country was dull and the hadden was sma',
An' sair, sair she weari't o' Willowden Ha'.

Tho' Johnnie was young and had siller fu' rife,
A braw plenish't house and weel-stocket mailin',
Yet a' wadna pleasure his gentle gudewife,

And happiness never wad enter his dwellin'.
Sae broken and bleerie, and daizent and drearie,
And gloomin' and grievin', and daunted and driven,
He sought in the howff, whaur the drouthy loons ca',
For the peace that had fled frae Willowden Ha'!

At mornin' and e'enin', at nicht and at noon,

They wasted, they wared, and they wrangl't wi' ither, Till the siller, the gear, and the credit gaed dune, And auld uncle's penny was gien till anither. Then waefu' and weary, and wilfu' and eerie, Wi' poverty pressin' and a' thing distressin', His honour, the laird, he cam' in wi' the law, An' roupit the hadden o' Willowden Ha'!

LAING.

27

Seldom has the muse of Scottish song imparted a more important lesson to young married people than in the story of "The Gudewife o' Willowden Ha."

TO MARY FLEMING, DAUGHTER OF THE
EARL OF WIGTON.

BY LOT QUEEN FOR ONE DAY AT THE COURT OF QUEEN
MARY OF SCOTLAND.

A ROYAL Sceptre would be thine,

Aye, Fleming in thy hand to wave,
If either worth or famous line
The prize of royal sceptre gave.

If either grace or beauty's power,
That in a noble mistress shine,
Nor any grace nor beauty's dower
Is worthier of the prize than thine.

If favour with the gods in heaven

The prayers and vows of men obtain,
The sceptre has to thee been given

By the fond vows and prayers of men.

If fickle as the changing wind,

The goddess chance our hap control,
Though deaf of years, of eyesight blind,
Devoid of understanding soul;

Yet neither deaf nor blind was she,
Nor lacked a soul to understand,
When she bestowed the realm on thee,
And gave the sceptre to thy hand;

Or if she were, the truth to tell,

If blind and deaf and void of mind,

I credit when she chose so well,

That virtue must have led the blind.

Translated from BUCHANAN by A. GIBB, Free
Church School, Carnwath.

Lady Mary Fleming was one of the Queen's Marys, and must have been a paragon of beauty. Buchanan, being a poet, may be supposed to

ELEGIAC BALLAD.

29

have had a warm imagination, but the following prose description of her appearance on that day by the cool-headed statesman, Thomas Randolph, proves that she was no ordinary lady :-"That day it was seen, by her princely pomp, how fit a match she would be were she to contend either with Venus in beauty, Minerva in wit, or Juno in worldly wealth, having the two former by nature, and of the third so much as is contained in this realm at her command and free disposition. The treasure of Solomon, I trow, was not to be compared to that which that day hanged upon her back. Happy was it unto this realm that her reign endured no longer! Two such sights in one State, in so good accord, I believe was never seen, as to behold two worthy Queens possess, without envy, one kingdom both upon a day. My pen staggereth, my head faileth, farther to write. Their praises surmount whatsomever may be thought of them. The Queen of Beauty was that day in a gown of cloth of silver; her head, her neck, her shoulders, the rest of her whole body, so beset with stones, that more in our whole jewel house could not be found." It was part of the amusement of Mary's Court that once a-year one of her attendant ladies was chosen by lot to be for one day the Queen of Beauty; on this occasion the lot fell upon Mary Fleming, whose father's home was Boghall Castle, Biggar.

ELEGIAC BALLAD.

ALL on the grass-green margin of Clyde,

A fair maiden disconsolate lay

Red swoll'n were her eyes with the salt trickling tear,
And her cheek was as pale as the clay.

Withered and wan was her once red-rose lip,
And the charms of her youth were all flown,

Like a flower that is scorched by the midsummer heat,
Or is plucked before it be blown.

Loose on her neck hung her bonnie long hair,
No green garland the ringlets combined;

Of her lover's false vows, and his late pledged troth,
And misery she sang to the wind-

Clyde Clyde ! roll on your clear crystal waves ;"
It was thus with a sigh she began;

"But roll where you will, you never will find
Such a lovely and faithless young man.

"Beware, oh, beware! ye fair, fair maids; Oh, beware! and take warning by me,

Nor trust not a swain, though he swears to be true— They are false, but not lovely as he.

"It was in yon osier leaf-lined bower_ Oh, too well I remember the place!

For my own fingers wove the green bending twigs, And he covered the benches with grass;

"That he took me in his soft circling arms,

And did fondlingly kiss me the while;

But beware, oh, beware! of the heart-stealing kiss, For men kiss where they mean to beguile;—

66 6 Eliza, to hang on thy lily-white neck, And to press thy fair bosom to mine

Is enough; yes, away with that base dirty pelf, 'Tis enough-'tis enough to be thine.

"Proud damsels may deck them in fine rich array, And every rude feature adorn,

But can riches or pride e'er attire them like thee— In the purple and freshness of morn.

"Away, foolish grandeur, I'll ne'er change my love, Or this kiss, this sweet kiss, be my last;

Yes, the gods, who look down on that leaf-lined bower, Can witness how truly I'm blest!'

"Such, such were his words, when close to his breast With many a sigh he me drew;

So kind, so sincere, and so hearty they seemed,
That I could not but think they were true.

"How frail and how feeble a fond maid's bliss,
Overturned by all breezes that blow !
How weak is the barrier, how narrow the line,
That separates our love from our woe!