“And if I be with child, father,
    “’Twill prove a wondrous birth;
  “For well I swear I’m not wi’ bairn
    “To any man on earth.

  “If my love were an earthly knight,
    “As he’s an elfin grey,
  “I wadna gie my ain true love
    “For nae lord that ye hae.”

  She princked hersell and prinn’d hersell,
    By the ae light of the moon,
  And she’s away to Carterhaugh,
    To speak wi’ young Tamlane.

  And when she cam to Carterhaugh,
    She gaed beside the well;
  And there she saw the steed standing,
    But away was himsell.

  She hadna pu’d a double rose,
    A rose but only twae,
  When up and started young Tamlane,
    Says—­“Lady, thou pu’s nae mae!

  “Why pu’ ye the rose, Janet,
    “Within this garden grene,
  “And a’ to kill the bonny babe,
    “That we got us between?”

  “The truth ye’ll tell to me, Tamlane;
    “A word ye mauna lie;
  “Gin ye’re ye was in haly chapel,
    “Or sained[B] in Christentie.”

  “The truth I’ll tell to thee, Janet,
    “A word I winna lie;
  “A knight me got, and a lady me bore,
    “As well as they did thee.

  “Randolph, Earl Murray, was my sire,
    “Dunbar, Earl March, is thine;
  “We loved when we were children small,
    “Which yet you well may mind.

  “When I was a boy just turned of nine,
    “My uncle sent for me,
  “To hunt, and hawk, and ride with him,
    “And keep him cumpanie.

  “There came a wind out of the north,
    “A sharp wind and a snell;
  “And a dead sleep came over me,
    “And frae my horse I fell.

  “The Queen of Fairies keppit me,
    “In yon green hill to dwell;
  “And I’m a Fairy, lyth and limb;
    “Fair ladye, view me well.

  “But we, that live in Fairy-land,
    “No sickness know, nor pain;
  “I quit my body when I will,
    “And take to it again.

  “I quit my body when I please,
    “Or unto it repair;
  “We can inhabit, at our ease,
    “In either earth or air.

  “Our shapes and size we can convert,
    “To either large or small;
  “An old nut-shell’s the same to us,
    “As is the lofty hall.

  “We sleep in rose-buds, soft and sweet,
    “We revel in the stream;
  “We wanton lightly on the wind,
    “Or glide on a sunbeam.

  “And all our wants are well supplied,
    “From every rich man’s store,
  “Who thankless sins the gifts he gets,
    “And vainly grasps for more.

  “Then would I never tire, Janet,
    “In elfish land to dwell;
  “But aye at every seven years,
    “They pay the teind to hell;
  “And I am sae fat, and fair of flesh,
    “I fear ’twill be mysell.

  “This night is Hallowe’en, Janet,
    “The morn is Hallowday;