 | The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden |  |
52
LORD SOULIS.
58
Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage castle,
And beside him Old Redcap sly:—
“Now tell me, thou sprite, who art meikle of might,
“The death that I must die!”
And beside him Old Redcap sly:—
“Now tell me, thou sprite, who art meikle of might,
“The death that I must die!”
While thou shalt bear a charmed life,
“And hold that life of me,
“'Gainst lance and arrow, sword and knife,
“I shall thy warrant be.
“And hold that life of me,
“'Gainst lance and arrow, sword and knife,
“I shall thy warrant be.
“Nor forged steel, nor hempen band,
“Shall e'er thy limbs confine,
“Till threefold ropes of sifted sand
“Around thy body twine.
“Shall e'er thy limbs confine,
“Till threefold ropes of sifted sand
“Around thy body twine.
“If danger press fast, knock thrice on the chest
“With rusty padlocks bound;
“Turn away your eyes when the lid shall rise,
“And listen to the sound.”
“With rusty padlocks bound;
“Turn away your eyes when the lid shall rise,
“And listen to the sound.”
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Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage castle,
And Redcap was not by;
And he called on a page who was witty and sage,
To go to the barmkin high.
And Redcap was not by;
And he called on a page who was witty and sage,
To go to the barmkin high.
“And look thou east, and look thou west,
“And quickly come tell to me,
“What troopers haste along the waste,
“And what may their livery be.”
“And quickly come tell to me,
“What troopers haste along the waste,
“And what may their livery be.”
He looked o'er fell, and he looked o'er flat,
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Save a pyot on a turret that sat
Beside a corby craw.
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Save a pyot on a turret that sat
Beside a corby craw.
The page he look'd at the skriek
of day,
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Till a horseman gray in the royal array
Rode down the Hazel-shaw.
But nothing, I wist, he saw,
Till a horseman gray in the royal array
Rode down the Hazel-shaw.
“Say, why do you cross o'er moor and moss?”
So loudly cried the page:
“I tidings bring from Scotland's king,
“To Soulis of Hermitage.
So loudly cried the page:
“I tidings bring from Scotland's king,
“To Soulis of Hermitage.
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“He bids me tell that bloody warden,
“Oppressor of low and high,
“If ever again his lieges complain,
“The cruel Soulis shall die.”
“Oppressor of low and high,
“If ever again his lieges complain,
“The cruel Soulis shall die.”
By traitorous sleight they seized the knight,
Before he rode or ran.
And through the key-stone of the vault
They plunged him horse and man.
Before he rode or ran.
And through the key-stone of the vault
They plunged him horse and man.
O May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry green;
And May she was the fairest maid
That ever yet was seen.
By Goranberry green;
And May she was the fairest maid
That ever yet was seen.
O May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry tower;
And who was it but cruel Lord Soulis
That carried her from her bower?
By Goranberry tower;
And who was it but cruel Lord Soulis
That carried her from her bower?
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He brought her to his castle gray,
By Hermitage's side;
Says—“Be content, my lovely May,
“For thou shalt be my bride.”
By Hermitage's side;
Says—“Be content, my lovely May,
“For thou shalt be my bride.”
With her yellow hair that glittered fair
She dried the trickling tear;
She sigh'd the name of Branxholm's heir,
The youth that lov'd her dear.
She dried the trickling tear;
She sigh'd the name of Branxholm's heir,
The youth that lov'd 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.
“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 so blue,
“The smoke shall roll white on the weary night,
“And the flame shine dimly through.”
“When the lift is like lead so blue,
“The smoke shall roll white on the weary night,
“And the flame 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.
A sturdy kemp was he,
From friend or foe in border feid
Who never a foot would flee.
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Red Ringan sped and the spearmen led
Up Goranberry slack;
Aye, many a wight unmatch'd in fight,
Who never more came back.
Up Goranberry slack;
Aye, many a wight unmatch'd 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.
And bloody rose he up;
But little thought young Branxholm's heir
Where he that night should sup.
He shot the roe-buck on the lee,
The dun deer on the law;
The glamour sure was in his e'e,
When Ringan nigh did draw.
The dun deer on the law;
The glamour sure was in his e'e,
When Ringan nigh did draw.
O'er heathy edge, through rustling sedge,
He sped till day was set;
And he thought it was his merry men true,
When he the spearmen met.
He sped till day was set;
And he thought it was his merry men true,
When he the spearmen met.
Far from relief they seiz'd the chief;
His men were far away;
Through Hermitage slack they sent him back
To Soulis' castle gray;
Syne onward sure for Branxholm tower,
Where all his merry men lay.
His men were far away;
Through Hermitage slack they sent him back
To Soulis' castle gray;
Syne onward sure for Branxholm tower,
Where all his merry men lay.
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“Now, welcome, noble Branxholm's heir
“Thrice welcome,” quoth Soulis to me!
“Say, dost thou repair to my castle fair,
“My wedding guest to be?
“And lovely May deserves, per fay,
“A brideman such as thee!”
“Thrice welcome,” quoth Soulis to me!
“Say, dost thou repair to my castle fair,
“My wedding guest to be?
“And lovely May deserves, per fay,
“A brideman such as thee!”
And broad and bloody rose the sun,
And on the barmkin shone;
When the page was aware of Red Ringan there,
Who came riding all alone.
And on the barmkin shone;
When the page was aware of Red Ringan there,
Who came riding all alone.
To the gate of the tower Lord Soulis he speeds,
As he lighted at the wall,
Says—“Where did ye stable my stalwart steeds,
“And where do they tarry all?”
As he lighted at the wall,
Says—“Where did ye stable my stalwart steeds,
“And where do they tarry all?”
“We stabled them sure on the Tarras muir
“We stabled them sure,” quoth he:
“Before we could cross that quaking moss,
“They all were lost but me.”
“We stabled them sure,” quoth he:
“Before we could cross that quaking moss,
“They all were lost but me.”
He clenched his fist, and he knock'd on the chest,
And he heard a stifled groan;
And at the third knock, each rusty lock
Did open one by one.
And he heard a stifled groan;
And at the third knock, each rusty lock
Did open one by one.
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He turn'd away his eyes, as the lid did rise,
And he listened silently;
And he heard, breathed slow in murmurs low,
“Beware of a coming tree!”
And he listened silently;
And he heard, breathed slow in murmurs low,
“Beware of a coming tree!”
In muttering sound the rest was drown'd;
No other word heard he;
But slow as it rose the lid did close,
With the rusty padlocks three.
No other word heard he;
But slow as it rose the lid did close,
With the rusty padlocks three.
Think not but Soulis was wae to yield
His warlock chamber o'er;
He took the keys from the rusty lock,
That never were ta'en before.
His warlock chamber o'er;
He took the keys from the rusty lock,
That never were ta'en before.
He threw them o'er his left shoulder,
With meikle care and pain;
And he bade it keep them fathoms deep,
Till he return'd again.
With meikle care and pain;
And he bade it keep them fathoms deep,
Till he return'd again.
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And still, when seven years are o'er,
Is heard the jarring sound;
When slowly opes the charmed door
Of the chamber under ground.
Is heard the jarring sound;
When slowly opes the charmed door
Of the chamber under ground.
And some within the chamber door
Have cast a curious eye;
But none dare tell, for the spirits in hell,
The fearful sights they spy.
Have cast a curious eye;
But none dare tell, for the spirits in hell,
The fearful sights they spy.
When Soulis thought on his merry men now,
A woeful wight was he;
Says—“Vengeance is mine, and I will not repine
“But Branxholm's heir shall die.”
A woeful wight was he;
Says—“Vengeance is mine, and I will not repine
“But Branxholm's heir shall die.”
Says—“What would you do, young Branxholm,
“Gin ye had me, as I have thee?”—
“I would take you to the good greenwood,
“And gar your ain hand wale the tree.”
“Gin ye had me, as I have thee?”—
“I would take you to the good greenwood,
“And gar your ain hand wale the tree.”
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“Now shall thine ain hand wale the tree,
“For all thy mirth and meikle pride;
“And May shall chuse, if my love she refuse,
“A scrog bush thee beside.”
“For all thy mirth and meikle pride;
“And May shall chuse, if my love she refuse,
“A scrog bush thee beside.”
They carried him to the good greenwood,
Where the green pines grew in a row;
And they heard the cry from the branches high
Of the hungry carrion-crow.
Where the green pines grew in a row;
And they heard the cry from the branches high
Of the hungry carrion-crow.
They carried him on from tree to tree,
The spiry boughs below.
“Say, shall it be thine on the tapering pine
“To feed the hooded crow?”—
The spiry boughs below.
“Say, shall it be thine on the tapering pine
“To feed the hooded crow?”—
“The fir-tops fall by Branxholm wall,
“When the night blast stirs the tree;
“And it shall not be mine to die on the pine,
“I loved in infancie.”
“When the night blast stirs the tree;
“And it shall not be mine to die on the pine,
“I loved in infancie.”
Young Branxholm turn'd him, and oft looked back,
And aye he passed from tree to tree;
Young Branxholm peeped, and puirly spake,
“O sic a death is no for me!”
And aye he passed from tree to tree;
Young Branxholm peeped, and puirly spake,
“O sic a death is no for me!”
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And next they passed the aspin gray,
Its leaves were rustling mournfullie;
“Now, chuse thee, chuse thee, Branxholm gay!
“Say, wilt thou never chuse the tree?”—
Its leaves were rustling mournfullie;
“Now, chuse thee, chuse thee, Branxholm gay!
“Say, wilt thou never chuse the tree?”—
“More dear to me is the aspin gray,
“More dear than any other tree;
“For beneath the shade that its branches made
“Have past the vows of my love and me.”
“More dear than any other tree;
“For beneath the shade that its branches made
“Have past the vows of my love and me.”
Young Branxholm peeped, and puirly spake,
Until he did his ain men see,
With witches' hazel in each steel cap,
In scorn of Soulis' gramarye;
Then shoulder-hight for glee he lap,
“Methinks I spye a coming tree!”
Until he did his ain men see,
With witches' hazel in each steel cap,
In scorn of Soulis' gramarye;
Then shoulder-hight for glee he lap,
“Methinks I spye a coming tree!”
“Aye, many may come, but few return,”
Quo' Soulis, the lord of gramarye;
“No warrior's hand in fair Scotland
“Shall ever dint a wound on me!”
Quo' Soulis, the lord of gramarye;
“No warrior's hand in fair Scotland
“Shall ever dint a wound on me!”
“Now, by my sooth,” quo' bauld Walter,
“If that be true we soon shall see.”
His bent bow he drew, and the arrow was true,
But never a wound or scar had he.
“If that be true we soon shall see.”
His bent bow he drew, and the arrow was true,
But never a wound or scar had he.
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Then up bespake him true Thomas,
He was the lord of Ersyltoun:
“The wizard's spell no steel can quell,
“Till once your lances bear him down.”
He was the lord of Ersyltoun:
“The wizard's spell no steel can quell,
“Till once your lances bear him down.”
They bore him down with lances bright,
But never a wound or scar had he;
With hempen bands they bound him tight,
Both hands and feet on the Nine-stane lee.
But never a wound or scar had he;
With hempen bands they bound him tight,
Both hands and feet on the Nine-stane lee.
That wizard accurst, the bands he burst;
They moulder'd at his magic spell;
And, neck and heel, in the forged steel
They bound him against the charms of hell.
They moulder'd at his magic spell;
And, neck and heel, in the forged steel
They bound him against the charms of hell.
That wizard accurst, the bands he burst;
No forged steel his charms could bide.
Then up bespake him true Thomas,
“We'll bind him yet, whate'er betide.”
No forged steel his charms could bide.
Then up bespake him true Thomas,
“We'll bind him yet, whate'er betide.”
The black spae-book from his breast he took,
Impressed with many a warlock spell:
And the book it was wrote by Michael Scott,
Who held in awe the fiends of hell.
Impressed with many a warlock spell:
And the book it was wrote by Michael Scott,
Who held in awe the fiends of hell.
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They buried it deep, where his bones they sleep,
That mortal man might never it see:
But Thomas did save it from the grave,
When he returned from Faërie.
That mortal man might never it see:
But Thomas did save it from the grave,
When he returned from Faërie.
The black spae-book from his breast he took,
And turned the leaves with curious hand;
No ropes, did he find, the wizard could bind,
But threefold ropes of sifted sand.
And turned the leaves with curious hand;
No ropes, did he find, the wizard could bind,
But threefold ropes of sifted sand.
They sifted the sand from the Nine-stane burn,
And shaped the ropes so curiouslie;
But the ropes would neither twist nor twine,
For Thomas true and his gramarye.
And shaped the ropes so curiouslie;
But the ropes would neither twist nor twine,
For Thomas true and his gramarye.
The black spae-book from his breast he took,
And again he turned it with his hand;
And he bade each lad of Teviot add
The barley chaff to the sifted sand.
And again he turned it with his hand;
And he bade each lad of Teviot add
The barley chaff to the sifted sand.
The barley chaff to the sifted sand
They added still by handfulls nine;
But Redcap sly unseen was by,
And the ropes would neither twist nor twine.
They added still by handfulls nine;
But Redcap sly unseen was by,
And the ropes would neither twist nor twine.
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And still beside the Nine-stane burn,
Ribb'd like the sand at mark of sea
The ropes, that would not twist nor turn,
Shap'd of the sifted sand you see.
Ribb'd like the sand at mark of sea
The ropes, that would not twist nor turn,
Shap'd of the sifted sand you see.
The black spae-book true Thomas he took;
Again its magic leaves he spread;
And he found that to quell the powerful spell,
The wizard must be boil'd in lead.
Again its magic leaves he spread;
And he found that to quell the powerful spell,
The wizard must be boil'd in lead.
On a circle of stones they plac'd the pot,
On a circle of stones but barely nine;
They heated it red and fiery hot,
Till the burnish'd brass did glimmer and shine.
On a circle of stones but barely nine;
They heated it red and fiery hot,
Till the burnish'd brass did glimmer and shine.
They roll'd him up in a sheet of lead,
A sheet of lead for a funeral pall;
They plung'd him in the cauldron red,
And melted him, lead and bones, and all.
A sheet of lead for a funeral pall;
They plung'd him in the cauldron red,
And melted him, lead and bones, and all.
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.
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.
| The Poetical Remains of the late Dr. John Leyden | |