XXXI. The Elfin-King

XXXII, The Sorcerefs, or Wolfwold and Ulla

202

212

190

193

No. I.

BOTHWELL'S BONNY JANE

ORIGINAL.- M. G. LEWIS.

Bothwell Castle is beautifully situated upon the Clyde, and fronts the ruins of Blantyre Priory. The estate of Bothwell has long been, and continues to be, in the possession of the Douglas family.

Loud roars the north round Bothwell's hall,
And faft defcends the pattering rain:

But ftreams of tears still fafter fall`
From thy blue eyes, oh! bonny Jane !

Hark! hark!-I hear, with mournful yell
The wraiths* of angry Clyde complain;
But forrow bursts with louder fwell
From thy fair breaft, oh! bonny Jane!

• Water-fpiritss

Tap!

66

Tap!-tap!"-who knocks?-the door unfolds;
The mourner lifts her melting eye,
And foon with joy and hope beholds
A reverend monk approaching nigh:

His air is mild, his step is flow,

His hands across his breast are laid, And soft he fighs, while bending low,

"St. Bothan* guard thee, gentle maid!"

To meet the friar the damfel ran;

She kifs'd his hand, fhe clafp'd his knee.
Now free me, free me, holy man,
'Who com'ft from Blantyre Prio-rie !'—

"What mean these piteous cries, daughter?
"St. Bothan be thy speed!

"Why fwim in tears thine eyes, daughter?
"From whom would'ft thou be freed?".

-Oh! father, father! know, my fire,

Though long I knelt, and wept, and figh'd,

• Hath fworn, ere twice ten days expire,

• His Jane fhall be Lord Malcolm's bride !'—

"Lord Malcolm is rich and great, daughter,—

"And comes of an high degree ; "He's fit to be thy mate, daughter, "So, Benedicite!"

* The patron Saint of Bothwell.

-Oh! father, father! fay not fo!

• Though rich his halls, though fair his bowers, 'There stands an hut, where Tweed doth flow,

• There dwells a youth where Tweed doth glide,
'On whom nor rank, nor fortune fmiles;
I'd rather be that peafant's bride,

'Than reign o'er all Lord Malcolm's ifles.'

-"But should you flee away, daughter,
"And wed with a village clown,
"What would your father fay, daughter?
"How would he fume and frown?"-

-Oh! he might frown and he might fume,
• And Malcolm's heart might grieve and pine,
'So Edgar's hut for me had room,

And Edgar's lips were prefs'd to mine!'

"If at the caftle gate, daughter,
"At night, thy love so true

"Should with a courfer wait, daughter,

"What, daughter, would'ft thou do?"

-'With noiseless step the stairs I'd prefs,
• Unclose the gate, and mount with glee,
And ever, as on I fped, would bless

The abbot of Blantyre Prio-rie".

"Then, daughter, dry thofe eyes fo bright; "I'll hafte where flows Tweed's filver ftream "And when thou fee'ft, at dead of night, "A lamp in Blantyre's chapel gleam,

"With noiseless ftep the staircase press,
"For know thy lover there will be;
"Then mount his fteed, hafte on,-and blefs
"The abbot of Blantyre Prio-rie !"

Then forth the friar he bent his way,
While lightly danc'd the damfel's heart;
Oh! how the chid the length of day,
How figh'd to fee the fun depart!

How joy'd the when eve's fhadows came,
How swiftly gain'd her tower fo high!

- Does there in Blantyre shine a flame ?• Ah no!-the moon deceived mine eye !'

Again the fhades of evening lour;
Again the hails the approach of night.
Shines there a flame in Blantyre tower?-
Ah no!-'tis but the northern-light !'-

But when arriv❜d All-hallow-E'en,*
What time the night and morn divide,

* On this night witches, devils, &c. are thought, by the Scotch, to be abroad on their baneful errands. See Burns's Poem, under the title of "Hallow E'en.”

The