Some wooed her for her beauty rare,

Her gowd but and her land.

Some told their love with ring and glove,
And some with hinny tale,

And some of valour's deeds could vaunt,
But all might not avail.

Some tilted on the castle lea,

Some feasted in the ha',

Some tried unseen to press their love,

But the owreword ay was, na.

And the rose on her cheek wad blench the while,
For she cared na' the tale to hear;

And oft she wad steal to the lonesome bower,
Where Jed's waters rin clear,

And pour her vow to the Ladye of might,
To stainless virgins dear.

Her snawy feet she wad lave i' the stream,
While the troutlets around wad play,
As her lovely een were fixed on heaven,
On the blue that ne'er can decay,
And often she langed to follow her thoughts
To the bowers of eternal day.

Oh! never I ween, did a lovelier form
The world with its fragrance fill;

But life is love, and love is life,
Sweet woman will be woman stll.

Her father was a gallant knight,
Her mother a lady of high degree;
Of sons they had five gallant youths,
Of daughters they had only she.

And she was mild as the forest flower
Whose bloom is fair to view;

Her cheek was fanned by the mountain winds,
Her hair was wet wi' the dew,

And, saving the hymn to our Ladye,

Nae lore the maiden knew.

But the tale I tell, so it befel,

She loved to stray unseen,

Where the merle from his liquid throat

Can melodize the dean.

And it fell on the hour when the ruddy sun
Began to sink i' the sea,

When gloaming flang his mantle dun
Outowre the fauld and lea;

The maiden stray'd till dark'ning night
O'erspread the welkin wide;

Her een did follow the chambering sun
To his bed i' the ocean tide,

And she never wist till a maid of heaven
Was standing by her side.

All as she lookit the stranger upon
She deemed her a sister dear-
When the mind is free from slavish guilt
It is free from silly fear.

To sing of the maiden of heaven hie,
Suits not my simple lay;

But she smiled on the lovely maid of earth,
And thus she said her say:

Young Mary looked up in wild amaze,

But naething she said ava,

And the maiden of heaven the girdle has ta'en, Put it round her middle sma',

Above that zone whose brightness shone

As pure as Cheviot's snaw.

The girdle was o' the sun-beam thread,
Spun i' celestial land,

It couldna be seen by mortal een,
Nor felt by mortal hand.

O lithe and listen ladies young,

To my tuneless tale come lend an ear, But first I'll ask you question oneLadies, this girdle wad ye wear?

O weel I ken that smirking blush
That gives your roses brighter blaw;
The tongue that sweetly faulters, aye,
May hesitate and whisper, na.

The mind may say the promised day
Of happy love may slowly come;
Virginitye may breed to wae,
If keepit till the day of doom.

The will may be the sweets to prie,
The wily tongue gainsay the will;
O life is love, and love is life,

Sweet woman will be woman still.

The warder in his tower of gloom

Had toll'd the dreary hour of nine, And none has seen young Mary's face Since rung the little hour of dine, The e'enin' banquet's in the ha',

And none to fill her father's wine.

Her mother's mind was all unrest,
And every heart impatience wild;
Where is your ladye, bower maidens--
Why tarrieth my darling child?

Gae seek her i' the wild wood grove,
And i' the bower aside the linn-
All as she spoke the door did ope,
And smilin' cam' the maiden in.

Why tarry ye sae late, my Mary,

The night grows eerysome to see;
The dew is damp, and the wind is cauld,
My child, it is not good for thee.

The fox is howling on the hill,
The howlet is screamin drear;

It is the hour when the forayers ride-
Some harm may hap my dear.

I fear nae harm, the maiden said,
And smiled benignantlye;

I have not injured any one~
Sure none will injure me.

O! lovely is the Angel of Grace
Redeeming souls from sin;

But lovelier far to the sons of men
I trow was that maiden.

The seasons cam' and the seasons went,
O silent time could fleetly flee;

The clouds raise up and the rain down fell,
And rivers ran to the roaring sea.

The seasons cam' and the seasons went,
The grass could grow and fade;

The birdies sang and the wild wood rang,
And lovelier still was the maid.

And her fame went far and her fame went wide, And it spread owre all Scotland;

While lord and knight and baron bold

Did seek that ladye's hand.

And there was tilting on the green
And dancing in the ha',

And all to gain the maiden's love,

But the owerword still was, na.

The Douglass cam' frae Liddisdale,
Wi' the young laird o' Buccleuch ;
And there were Kerrs and Cockburns baith,
All knights of honour true.

Johnstone and Maxwell also cam
Their wooing skill to prove,

And young Cranstoun, of Crailing, too,
But he never told his love.

Among the rest frae southron land
There cam a knight of fame;
He also sought the ladye's ear
To tell his tale of flame.

But his was the love o' the gude green lands,
But and the gowd sae free-

And his was the love o' the gaudy glare
Which but delights the e'e.

And his was the love o' the faultless formThe rose and the lillye dye

And he has sought the maiden's side

His artful tale to try.

He try'd at morn, he try'd at e'en,

The maiden's heart to move; But when he told his artful tale, Her answer was na love.

But sae it fell on a bonny summer night
As the light begoud to lower,

The maid did walk in her green mantle
Alane by the lanely bower.

The star o' love frae 'boon the hill

Did glitter on the stream,

And musing was young Mary's mind,

Celestial was her theme

And never wist she till the southron knight Did break the waking dream.

Now give me love, thou proud maiden,

Gi'e love for love again;