BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL (From Motherwell's Minstrelsy, 1827. Date of ballad uncertain) Hie upon Hielands, 5 Saddled and bridled HELEN OF KIRCONNELL PART SECOND (From Scott's Border Minstrelsy, 1802-3) I wish I were where Helen lies! 5 Curst be the heart that thought the thought, O think na ye my heart was sair, 10 When my love dropt down and spak nae mair! There did she swoon wi' mickle care On fair Kirconnell Lee. As I went down the water-side, None but my foe to be my guide, 15 None but my foe to be my guide, On fair Kirconnell Lee! 20 I lighted down, my sword did draw, I hacked him in pieces sma', For her sake that died for me. O, Helen fair, beyond compare! 25 O 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! 30 If I were with thee, I were blest, Where thou lies low, and takes thy rest, On fair Kirconnell Lee. I wish my grave were growing green, A winding-sheet drawn ower my een 35 And I in Helen's arms lying, 40 On fair Kirconnell Lee. I wish I were where Helen lies! For her sake that died for me. (From the First Book, which contains The Legend of the Knight of the Red Crosse, or of Holinesse, published with Bks. II. and III, 1590) I. Lo! I, the man whose Muse whylome did maske, 5 To blazon broade emongst her learned throng: Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song. II. Helpe then, O holy virgin, chiefe of nyne, 10 15 Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill, That I must rue his undeserved wrong: O, helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong! III. And thou, most dreaded impe of highest Jove, And with thy mother mylde come to mine ayde; After his murderous spoyles and bloudie rage allayd. IV. 20 26 And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright, shine, Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne, 30 35 The which to heare vouchsafe, O dearest Dread, a while. CANTO I. The patron of true Holinesse, I. A gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine, Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine, The cruell markes of many a bloody fielde; 40 |