'Tis not the frost that freezes fell,

Nor blawing snaw's inclemency;

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'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry,

But my Love's heart grown cauld to me.

When we came in by Glasgow town,

We were a comely sight to see;
My Love was clad in the black velvet,
And I mysel' in cramasie.

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But had I wist, before I kissed,

That love had been sae ill to win,

I'd locked my heart in a case of gowd,
And pinned it with a siller pin.

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When in my arms burd Helen dropt,

And died to succour me!

Oh think na but my heart was sair,

When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair!

I laid her down wi' meikle care

Oh fair Kirconnell lea.

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As I went down the water-side,
None but my foe to be my guide,
None but my foe to be my guide,

On fair Kirconnell lea;

I lighted down my sword to draw,
I hacked him in pieces sma',
I hacked him in pieces sma',

For her sake that died for me.

O Helen fair, beyond compare ?
I'll make a garland of thy hair
Shall bind my heart for evermair

Until the day I die.

Oh that I were where Helen lies!
Night and day on me she cries;
Out of my bed she bids me rise,
Says,Haste and come to me!'

O Helen fair! O Helen chaste!

If I were with thee, I were blest,
Where thou lies low and takes thy rest
On fair Kirconnell lea.

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I wish my grave were growing green,

A winding-sheet drawn ower my een,
And I in Helen's arms lying,
On fair Kirconnell lea.

I wish I were where Helen lies:
Night and day on me she cries;
And I am weary of the skies,

Since my Love died for me.

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Anon.

LXXVIII

LOVE'S ENTERPRISE.

Over the mountains

And over the waves,
Under the fountains

And under the graves;
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks that are steepest
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place

For the glowworm to lie;

Where there is no space

For receipt of a fly;

Where the midge dares not venture,

Lest herself fast she lay;

If Love come, he will enter
And find out the way.

You may esteem him

A child for his might;

Or you may deem him

A coward from his flight;

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ΙΟ

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THE TWA BROTHERS.

There were twa brothers at the scule,
And when they got awa’—

'It's will ye play at the stane-chucking,

Or will ye play at the ba',

Or will ye gae up to yon hill head,

And there we'll warsell a fa'.

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'I winna play at the stane-chucking,
Nor will I play at the ba',

But I'll gae up to yon bonnie green hill,
And there we'll warsell a fa'.'

They warsled up, they warsled down,
Till John fell to the ground;

A dirk fell out of Willie's pouch,

And gave him a deadly wound.

'Oh, Billie, lift me on your back,

Take me to yon well fair,

And wash the bluid frae aff my wound,
And it will bleed nae mair.'

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