 | Romantic Ballads and Poems of Phantasy |  |
55
MAD MADGE O' CREE.
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Hither and thither, to and fro,
She wander'd o'er the bleak hill-sides;
She watch'd the wild Sound toss and flow,
And the water-kelpies lead the tides.
She wander'd o'er the bleak hill-sides;
She watch'd the wild Sound toss and flow,
And the water-kelpies lead the tides.
She heard the wind upon the hill
Or wailing wild across the muir,
And answered it with laughter shrill
And mocked its eldritch lure.
Or wailing wild across the muir,
And answered it with laughter shrill
And mocked its eldritch lure.
Within the running stream she heard
A music such as none may hear;
The voice of every beast and bird
Had meaning for her ear.
A music such as none may hear;
The voice of every beast and bird
Had meaning for her ear.
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“What seek ye thus, fair Margery?
Ye know your Ranald's dead:
Win hame, my bonnie lass, wi' me,
Win hame to hearth and bed!”
Ye know your Ranald's dead:
Win hame, my bonnie lass, wi' me,
Win hame to hearth and bed!”
“Hark! hear ye not the corbie call—
It shrills, Come owre the glen,
For Ranald standeth fair and tall
Amid his shadow-men!”
It shrills, Come owre the glen,
For Ranald standeth fair and tall
Amid his shadow-men!”
“‘His shadow-men,’ O Margery!
'Tis of the dead ye speak:
Syne they are in the saut deep sea
What gars ye phantoms seek?”
'Tis of the dead ye speak:
Syne they are in the saut deep sea
What gars ye phantoms seek?”
“Hark, hear ye not the curlew wail
May Margery, mak haste,
For Ranald wanders sad and pale
About the lonely waste.”
May Margery, mak haste,
For Ranald wanders sad and pale
About the lonely waste.”
“O Margery, what is't ye say:
Your Ranald's dead and drowned.
Neither by night, neither by day,
Sall your fair love be found.”
Your Ranald's dead and drowned.
Neither by night, neither by day,
Sall your fair love be found.”
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“He is not dead, for I hae seen
His bonnie gowden hair:
Within his arms I've claspit been,
An' I have dreamit there:
His bonnie gowden hair:
Within his arms I've claspit been,
An' I have dreamit there:
“Last night I stood by green Craigmore
And watch'd the foaming tide:
And there across the moonlit shore
A shadow sought my side.
And watch'd the foaming tide:
And there across the moonlit shore
A shadow sought my side.
“But when he kissed me soft and sweet,
And faintly ca'd tae me,
I rose an' took his hand an' fleet
We sought the Caves o' Cree.
And faintly ca'd tae me,
I rose an' took his hand an' fleet
We sought the Caves o' Cree.
“Ah, there we kissed, my love and I:
An' there sad songs he sang
O' how dead men drift wearily
'Mid sea-wrack lank and lang.
An' there sad songs he sang
O' how dead men drift wearily
'Mid sea-wrack lank and lang.
“And once my wan love whisper'd low
How 'mid the sea-weeds deep
As but yestreen he drifted slow
He saw me lying asleep—
How 'mid the sea-weeds deep
As but yestreen he drifted slow
He saw me lying asleep—
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“Aye sound in sleep beneath the wave
Wi' shells an' sea-things there,
An' as the tide swept o'er my grave
It stirred like weed my hair:
Wi' shells an' sea-things there,
An' as the tide swept o'er my grave
It stirred like weed my hair:
“In vain, ah, all in vain, he tried
To reach an' clasp my hand,
To lay his body by my side
Upon that shell-strewn strand.
To reach an' clasp my hand,
To lay his body by my side
Upon that shell-strewn strand.
“But ah, within the Caves o' Cree
He kissed my lips full fain—
Ay, by the hollow booming sea
We'll meet, my love, again.”
He kissed my lips full fain—
Ay, by the hollow booming sea
We'll meet, my love, again.”
That night again fair Margery
In Cree-Caves slept full sound,
And by her side lay lovingly
The wan wraith of the drowned.
In Cree-Caves slept full sound,
And by her side lay lovingly
The wan wraith of the drowned.
O what is yon toss-tossing there
Where a' the white gulls fly:
Is yon gold weed or golden hair
The waves swirl merrily?
Where a' the white gulls fly:
Is yon gold weed or golden hair
The waves swirl merrily?
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O what is yon white shape that slips
Among the lapsing seas:
Pale, pale the rose-red of the lips
Whereo'er the spindrift flees.
Among the lapsing seas:
Pale, pale the rose-red of the lips
Whereo'er the spindrift flees.
What bears the tide unto the strand
Where the drown'd seaman lies:
A waving arm, a hollow hand,
And face with death-dimmed eyes.
Where the drown'd seaman lies:
A waving arm, a hollow hand,
And face with death-dimmed eyes.
The tide uplifts them, leaves them where
Each first knew love beside the sea:
Bound each to each with yellow hair
Within the Caves o' Cree.
Each first knew love beside the sea:
Bound each to each with yellow hair
Within the Caves o' Cree.
| Romantic Ballads and Poems of Phantasy | |