THE MAID OF ERCILDOUNE. An ancient Ballade, wherein are set forth the Dangers of Disobedience unto Parents, as well as entering the holy state of Matrimonie for Filthy Lucre. COME, all ye pretty maidens, And a story ye shall hear There lived a Priest in Ercildoune, Who foolish was and rude. Most beautiful in form was she, She was both tall and fair; Like bright blue violets were her eyes, And golden was her hair. But beauty was to her a curse, As it doth often prove, And served to fill her youthful breast With pride and vain self-love. She scorned her aged father And in her rage did threaten once Because he did advise her "No, no!" the haughty damsel said, "A rich man I prefer ; And rather than a saint I'll wed, Her father was much grieved at her, And said, she should prefer A virtuous man, whoe'er he was- His voice, it was most musical, And with it he could speak All tongues that now are known on earth, His tunic was of purple, In sooth, he was a princely man, And goodly to behold. In his hand, he held a dulcimer, And while he music made, The sounds were so sweet, the birds came to his feet, And flew about his head. Nor did that pleasant instrument The birds alone enchant ; The damsel it no sooner heard, Than she began to pant. "Oh, what," she said, "would I not give That dulcimer to play, And to have so gay a minstrel For my husband, lov'd, to-day !" "Fair maiden," said the minstrel, If thou wilt be my faithful wife, At twenty-three I will come for thee, And thou shalt be my bride; And stand, a queen, in robes of state, I live in a palace, large and high, In its walls is many a gem; And I sit alone on a high-built throne, Unnumbered princes me obey, They run to do my will As run the locusts, when they fly, |