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Tell fortune of her blindnesle ;

Tell nature of decay ;
Tell friend fhip of unkindnesle ;
Tell justice of delay :

And if they dare reply,
Then give them all the lye.

Tell arts, they have no foundneffe,

But vary by esteeming;
Tell schooles, they want profoundnesse,
And stand too much on seeming:

If arts, and schooles reply,
Give arts, and schooles the lye.

Tell faith, it's fled the citie;

Tell how the countrey erreth ;
Tell, manhood shakes off pitie ;
Tell, vertue lealt preferreth :

And, if they doe reply,
Spare not to give the lye.

So, when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing,
Although to give the lye
Deferves no less than ftabbing,

Yet stah at thee, who will,
No ftab the foule can kill.

V. LORD

V.

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET,

A SCOTTISH BALL A D,

-- seems to be composed (not without improvements ) out of two ancient English ones, printed in the former volume. See book I. ballad Xiv. and book 11. ballad IV. If this had been the original, the authors of those two ballads would hardly have adopted two such different fiories : besides this contains enlargements not to be found in either of the others. It is given with some corrections, from a Ms. copy transmitted from Scoiland.

Lo

ORD Thomas and fair Annet

Sate a' day on a hill ;
Whar night was cum, and sun was sett,

They had not talkt their fill.

The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,

Fair Annet she has gat nane;
And the little beauty fair Annet haes,

O it wull soon be gane !

20

And he has till his brother gane :

Now brother rede ye mee;
A' fall I marrie the nut-browne bride,

And let fair Annet bee?

The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother,

The nut-browne bride has kye;
I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride,

And cast fair Annet bye.

30

Her oxen may dye i' the house, Billie,

And her kye into the byre; And I fall hae nothing to my fell, Bot a fat fadge by the fyre.

And

And he has till his fifter

gane : Now fister rede ye mee ; O sall I marrie the nut-browne bride,

And fet fair Annet free?

35

Ise rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas,

And let the browne bride alane ; Left ye fould figh and say, Alace!

What is this we brought hame?

40

No, I will tak my mithers counsel,

And marrie me owt o'hand;
And I will tak the nut-browne bride;

Fair Annet may leive the land.

45

Up then rose fair Annets father

Twa hours or it wer day,
And he is gane into the bower,

Wherein fair Annet lay.

50

Rise up, rise up, fair Annet, he says, ,

Put on your ficken sheene ; Let us gae to St. Maries kirke

And see that rich weddeen.

My maides, gae to my dresing roome,

And dress to me my hair ; Whair-eir yee laid a plait before, See yee lay ten times mair.

T4

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My