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"Keep well, keep well, your lands and strands, Ye hae that bird within your hands.

"Now, my son, to your bower ye'll go: Comfort your ladie, she's full o' woe."

Now when nine months were come and gane, 105 The lady she brought hame a son.

It was written on his breast-bane, Lord Dingwall was his father's name.

He's ta'en his young son in his arms, And aye he prais'd his lovely charms. 110

And he has gi'em him kisses three, And doubled them ower to his ladie.

HYNDE ETIN. (See p. 179.)

From Kinloch's _Ancient Scottish Ballads_, p. 228.

May Marg'ret stood in her bouer door, Kaiming doun her yellow hair; She spied some nuts growin in the wud, And wish'd that she was there.

She has plaited her yellow locks 5 A little abune her bree; And she has kilted her petticoats A little below her knee; And she's aff to Mulberry wud, As fast as she could gae. 10

She had na pu'd a nut, a nut, A nut but barely ane, Till up started the Hynde Etin, Says, "Lady! let thae alane."

"Mulberry wuds are a' my ain; 15 My father gied them me, To sport and play when I thought lang; And they sall na be tane by thee."

And ae she pu'd the tither berrie, Na thinking o' the skaith; 20 And said, "To wrang ye, Hynde Etin, I wad be unco laith."

But he has tane her by the yellow locks, And tied her till a tree, And said, "For slichting my commands, 25 An ill death shall ye dree."

He pu'd a tree out o' the wud, The biggest that was there; And he howkit a cave monie fathoms deep, And put May Marg'ret there. 30

"Now rest ye there, ye saucie may; My wuds are free for thee; And gif I tak ye to mysell, The better ye'll like me."

Na rest, na rest May Marg'ret took, 35 Sleep she got never nane; Her back lay on the cauld, cauld floor, Her head upon a stane.

"O tak me out," May Marg'ret cried, "O tak me hame to thee; 40 And I sall be your bounden page Until the day I dee."

He took her out o' the dungeon deep, And awa wi' him she's gane; But sad was the day an earl's dochter 45 Gaed hame wi' Hynde Etin.

It fell out ance upon a day, Hynde Etin's to the hunting gane; And he has tane wi' him his eldest son, For to carry his game. 50

"O I wad ask you something, father, An ye wadna angry be;"-- "Ask on, ask on, my eldest son, Ask onie thing at me."

"My mother's cheeks are aft times weet, 55 Alas! they are seldom dry;"-- "Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son, Tho' she should brast and die.

"For your mother was an earl's dochter, Of noble birth and fame; 60 And now she's wife o' Hynde Etin, Wha ne'er got christendame.

"But we'll shoot the laverock in the lift, The buntlin on the tree; And ye'll tak them hame to your mother, 65 And see if she'll comforted be."

"I wad ask ye something, mother, An' ye wadna angry be;"-- "Ask on, ask on, my eldest son, Ask onie thing at me." 70

"Your cheeks they are aft times weet, Alas! they're seldom dry;"-- "Na wonder, na wonder, my eldest son, Tho' I should brast and die.

"For I was ance an earl's dochter, 75 Of noble birth and fame; And now I am the wife of Hynde Etin, Wha ne'er got christendame."


This is a translation by Jamieson (_Popular Ballads and Songs_, i.

219), of the Danish _Elveskud_ (Abrahamson, i. 237). Lewis has given a version of the same in the _Tales of Wonder_, (No. 10.) The corresponding Swedish ballad, _The Elf-Woman and Sir Olof_ (Afzelius, iii. 165) is translated by Keightley, _Fairy Mythology_, p. 84. This ballad occurs also in Norse, Faroish, and Icelandic.

Of the same class are _Elfer Hill_, (from the Danish, Jamieson, i.

225; from the Swedish, Keightley, 86; through the German, _Tales of Wonder_, No. 6:) _Sir Olof in the Elve-Dance_, (Keightley, 82; _Literature and Romance of Northern Europe_, by William and Mary Howitt, i. 269:) _The Merman and Marstig's Daughter_, (from the Danish, Jamieson, i. 210; _Tales of Wonder_, No. 11:) the Breton tale of _Lord Nann and the Korrigan_, (Keightley, 433:) three Slavic ballads referred to by Grundtvig, (_Elveskud_, ii. 111:) _Sir Peter of Stauffenbergh and the Mermaid_, (from the German, Jamieson, _Illustrations of Northern Antiquities_, 257,) and the well-known _Fischer_ of Goethe.

Sir Oluf the hend has ridden sae wide, All unto his bridal feast to bid.

And lightly the elves, sae feat and free, They dance all under the greenwood tree!

And there danced four, and there danced five; 5 The Elf-King's daughter she reekit bilive.

Her hand to Sir Oluf sae fair and free: "O welcome, Sir Oluf, come dance wi' me!

"O welcome, Sir Oluf! now lat thy love gae, And tread wi' me in the dance sae gay." 10

"To dance wi' thee ne dare I, ne may; The morn it is my bridal day."

"O come, Sir Oluf, and dance wi' me; Twa buckskin boots I'll give to thee;

"Twa buckskin boots, that sit sae fair, 15 Wi' gilded spurs sae rich and rare.

"And hear ye, Sir Oluf! come dance wi' me; And a silken sark I'll give to thee;

"A silken sark sae white and fine, That my mother bleached in the moonshine." 20

"I darena, I maunna come dance wi' thee; For the morn my bridal day maun be."

"O hear ye, Sir Oluf! come dance wi' me, And a helmet o' goud I'll give to thee."

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