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
Such as you never heard before,
Nor will for many a year.

There lived a Priest in Ercildoune,
And he was wise and good;
And had an only daughter,

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
Because he was so poor,

And in her rage did threaten once
To turn him to the door,

Because he did advise her
A saintly youth to wed,
Who, for the love of Jesus,
Would willingly have bled.

"No, no!" the haughty damsel said,

"A rich man I prefer ;

And rather than a saint I'll wed,
I'll marry Lucifer."

Her father was much grieved at her,

And said, she should prefer

A virtuous man, whoe'er he was-
Even an artificer.

His voice, it was most musical,

And with it he could speak

All tongues that now are known on earth,
Nor have one word to seek.

His tunic was of purple,
Embroidered o'er with gold;

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,
"This dulcimer I'll give,

If thou wilt be my faithful wife,
And with me always live.

At twenty-three I will come for thee,

And thou shalt be my bride;

And stand, a queen, in robes of state,
Deep blushing at my side.

I live in a palace, large and high,

In its walls is many a gem;

And I sit alone on a high-built throne,
And wear a diadem.

Unnumbered princes me obey,

They run to do my will

As run the locusts, when they fly,
O'er plain, and sea, and hill,