WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS AND OF SCOTLAND.
HISTORICAL, TRADITIONARY, & IMAGINATIVE.
WITH A GLOSSARY.
REVISED BY ALEXANDER LEIGHTON,
_One of the Original Editors and Contributors_.
VOL. XXIV.
LONDON: WALTER SCOTT, 14 PATERNOSTER SQUARE, AND NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE. 1884
CONTENTS.
THE MINSTREL'S TALES--
I. EDMUND AND HELEN, (_John Mackay Wilson_), 5
II. THE ROMAUNT OF SIR PEREGRINE AND THE LADY ETHELINE,...... (_Alexander Leighton_), 43
III. THE LEGEND OF ALLERLEY HALL, _(Alexander Leighton_),................................. 52
IV. THE LEGEND OF THE LADY KATHARINE, (_Alexander Leighton_),..................... 57
V. THE BALLAD OF AILIE FAA,.......(_Alexander Leighton_),................................. 67
VI. THE LEGEND OF THE FAIR EMERGILDE, (_Alexander Leighton_),..................... 72
VII. THE ROMAUNT OF THE CASTLE OF WEIR, (_Alexander Leighton_),..................... 78
VIII. THE ROMAUNT OF ST. MARY'S WYND, (_Alexander Leighton_),..................... 87
IX. THE LEGEND OF MARY LEE,.......(_Alexander _Leighton_),................................ 98
X. THE BALLAD OF AGE AND YOUTH,...(_Alexander Leighton_),................................. 107
XI. THE LEGEND OF CRAIGULLAN,.....(_Alexander _Leighton_),................................ 113
XII. THE HERMIT OF THE HILLS,...(_John Mackay Wilson_),................................... 119
XIII. THE BALLAD OF RUMBOLLOW,....(_Alexander Leighton_),................................. 123
XIV. THE LEGEND OF THE BURNING OF MRS. JAMPHRAY, ................(_Alexander Leighton_),..... 133
XV. THE BALLAD OF BALLOGIE'S DAUGHTERS,........ (_Alexander Leighton_),..................... 141
XVI. THE LEGEND OF DOWIELEE,........(_Alexander Leighton_),................................. 145
XVII. THE BALLAD OF MAID MARION,....(_Alexander Leighton_),.................................. 154
XVIII. THE BALLAD OF ROSEALLAN CASTLE,......... (_Alexander Leighton_),...................... 158
XIX. THE BALLAD OF THE TOURNAY,.....(_Alexander Leighton_),.................................. 160
XX. THE BALLAD OF GOLDEN COUNSEL,...(_Alexander Leighton_),.................................. 164
XXI. THE BALLAD OF MATRIMONY,......._(Alexander _Leighton_),................................. 168
XXII. THE SONG OF ROSALIE, .........(_Alexander Leighton_),.................................. 171
XXIII. THE BALLAD OF THE WORLD'S VANITY,....... (_Alexander Leighton_),...................... 173
XXIV. THE SIEGE: A DRAMATIC TALE,........(_John _Mackay Wilson_),............................ 177
XXV. FAREWELL TO A PLACE ON THE BORDERS,....... (_Rev. W.G._),............................... 207
GLOSSARY,...................................... 211
GENERAL INDEX,................................. 251
WILSON'S TALES OF THE BORDERS, AND OF SCOTLAND.
THE MINSTREL'S TALES.
I.
EDMUND AND HELEN.
CANTO FIRST.
Come, sit thee by me, love, and thou shalt hear A tale may win a smile and claim a tear-- A plain and simple story told in rhyme, As sang the minstrels of the olden time. No idle Muse I'll needlessly invoke-- No patron's aid, to steer me from the rock Of cold neglect round which oblivion lies; But, loved one, I will look into thine eyes, From which young poesy first touched my soul, And bade the burning words in numbers roll;-- They were the light in which I learned to sing; And still to thee will kindling fancy cling-- Glow at thy smile, as when, in younger years, I've seen thee smiling through thy maiden tears, Like a fair floweret bent with morning dew, While sunbeams kissed its leaves of loveliest hue. Thou wert the chord and spirit of my lyre-- Thy love the living voice that breathed--"aspire!"-- That smoothed ambition's steep and toilsome height, And in its darkest paths was round me, light. Then, sit thee by me, love, and list the strain, Which, but for thee, had still neglected lain.
II.
Didst thou e'er mark, within a beauteous vale, Where sweetest wild-flowers scent the summer gale, And the blue Tweed, in silver windings, glides, Kissing the bending branches on its sides, A snow-white cottage, one that well might seem A poet's picture of contentment's dream? Two chestnuts broad and tall embower the spot, And bend in beauty o'er the peaceful cot; The creeping ivy clothes its roof with green, While round the door the perfumed woodbine's seen Shading a rustic arch; and smiling near, Like rainbow fragments, blooms a rich parterre; Grey, naked crags--a steep and pine-clad hill-- A mountain chain and tributary rill-- A distant hamlet and an ancient wood, Begirt the valley where the cottage stood. That cottage was a young Enthusiast's home, Ere blind ambition lured his steps to roam; He was a wayward, bold, and ardent boy, At once his parents' grief--their hope and joy. Men called him Edmund.--Oft his mother wept Beside the couch where yet her schoolboy slept, As, starting in his slumbers, he would seem To speak of things of which none else might dream.
III.
Adown the vale a stately mansion rose, With arboured lawns, like visions of repose Serene in summer loveliness, and fair As if no passion e'er was dweller there Save innocence and love; for they alone Within the smiling vale of peace were known. But fairer and more lovely far than all, Like Spring's first flowers, was Helen of the Hall-- The blue-eyed daughter of the mansion's lord, And living image of a wife adored, But now no more; for, ere a lustrum shed Its smiles and sunshine o'er the infant's head, Death, like a passing spirit, touched the brow Of the young mother; and the father now Lived as a dreamer on his daughter's face, That seemed a mirror wherein he could trace The long lost past--the eyes of love and light, Which his fond soul had worshipped, ere the night Of death and sorrow sealed those eyes in gloom-- Darkened his joys, and whelmed them in the tomb.
IV.
Young Edmund and fair Helen, from the years Of childhood's golden joys and passing tears, Were friends and playmates; and together they Across the lawn, or through the woods, would stray. While he was wont to pull the lilies fair, And weave them, with the primrose, round her hair;-- Plait toys of rushes, or bedeck the thorn With daisies sparkling with the dews of morn; While she, these simple gifts would grateful take--- Love for their own and for the giver's sake. Or, they would chase the butterfly and bee From flower to flower, shouting in childish glee; Or hunt the cuckoo's echo through the glade, Chasing the wandering sound from shade to shade. Or, if she conned the daily task in vain, A word from Edmund made the lesson plain.
V.
Thus years rolled by in innocence and truth, And playful childhood melted into youth, As dies the dawn in rainbows, ray by ray In blushing beauty stealing into day. And thus too passed, unnoticed and unknown, The sports of childhood, fleeting one by one. Like broken dreams, of which we neither know From whence they come, nor mark we when they go. Yet would they stray where Tweed's fair waters glide, As we have wandered--fondly side by side; And when dun gloaming's shadows o'er it stole As silence visible--until the soul Grew tranquil as the scene--then would they trace The deep'ning shadows on the river's face-- A voiceless world, where glimmered, downward far, Inverted mountain, tree, and cloud, and star. 'Twas Edmund's choicest scene, and he would dwell On it, till he grew eloquent, and tell Its beauties o'er and o'er, until the maid Knew every gorgeous tint and mellowed shade Which evening from departed sunbeams threw, And as a painter on the waters drew.
VI.
Or, when brown Autumn touched the leaves with age, The heavens became the young Enthusiast's page Wherein his fancy read; and they would then, Hand locked in hand, forsake the haunts of men; Communing with the silver queen of night, Which, as a spirit, shone upon their sight, Full orbed in maiden glory; and her beams Fell on their hearts, like distant shadowed gleams Of future joy and undefinèd bliss-- Half of another world and half of this. Then, rapt in dreams, oft would he gazing stand, Grasping in his her fair and trembling hand, And thus exclaim, "Helen, when I am gone, When that bright moon shall shine on you alone, And but _one_ shadow on the river fall-- Say, wilt thou then these heavenly hours recall? Or read, upon the fair moon's smiling brow The words we've uttered--those we utter now? Or think, though seas divide us, I may be Gazing upon that glorious orb with thee At the same moment--hearing, in its rays, The hallowed whisperings of early days! For, oh, there is a language in its calm And holy light, that hath a power to balm The troubled spirit, and like memory's glass, Make bygone happiness before us pass."