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V.

The Eildon Tree hath passed away
By natural process of decay;
We search around, and see it not,
Though yet a grey stone marks the spot
Where erst its boughs, with quivering fear,
O'erarched the sprite-attended seer,
Holding unhallowed colloquy
On things to come and things gone by.
And still the Goblin Burn steals round
The purple heath with lonely sound,

A small stream in the neighbourhood of the Eildon Tree (or rather Stone, as its quondam site is now pointed out by a piece of rock) has received the name of the Bogle Burn, from the spirits which were thought to haunt the spot in attendance on the prophet.


As when its waters stilled their noise
To listen to the silver voice,
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Which sang in wild prophetic strains,
Of Scotland's perils and her pains—
Of dire defeat on Flodden Hill—
Of Pinkyncleuch's blood-crimsoned rill—
Of coming woes, of lowering wars,
Of endless battles, broils, and jars—
Till France's Queen should bear a son
To make two rival kingdoms one,
And many a wound of many a field
Of blood, in Bruce's blood be healed.

Among the prophecies ascribed to the Rhymer is the following, evidently relating to the junction of the crowns under James VI.:—

“Then to the bairn I could say,
Where dwellest thou, in what countrye?
Or who shall rule the isle Britain
From the north to the south sea?
The French queen shall bear the son
Shall rule all Britain to the sea:
Which from the Bruce's blood shall come
As near as the ninth degree.”

That severe, yet acute and candid, expurgator of historical truth, the late Lord Hailes, in a dissertation devoted to the prophecies of Bede, Merlin, Gildas, and our bard, makes it pretty distinctly appear that the lines just quoted are an interpolation, and do not appertain to True Thomas at all, but to Berlington, another approved soothsayer of a later age.


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