Classic Poem

" Quhare haif ye been, ye ill womyne,
These three lang nightis fra hame?
Quhat garris the sweit drap fra yer brow,
Like clotis of the saut sea faem?

It fearis me muckil ye haif seen
Quhat good man never knew;
It fearis me muckil ye haif been
Quhare the grey cock never crew.

But the spell may crack and the brydel breck,
Then sherpe yer werde will be;
Ye had better sleipe in yer bed at hame
Wi yer deire littil bairnis and me."

" Sit dune, sit dune, my leile auld man,
Sit dune and listin to me;
I'll gar the hayre stand on yer crown
And the cauld sweit blind yer e'e.

But tell nae wordis, my gude auld man,
Tell never word again;
Or deire shall be yer courtisye,
And driche and sair yer pain.

The first leet-night, quhan the new moon set,
Quhan all was douffe and mirk,
We saddled ouir naigis wi the moon-fern leif
And rode fra Kilmerrin kirk.

Some horses ware of the brume-cow framit
And some of the greine bay tree,
But mine was made of ane humloke schaw,
And a stout stallion was he.

We raide the tod doune on the hill,
The martin on the law,
And we huntyd the hoolet out of brethe,
And forcit him doune to fa."

" Quhat guid was that, ye ill womyn?
Quhat guid was that to thee?
Ye wald better haif bein in yer bed at hame
Wi yer deire littil bairnis and me."

" And ay we raide and se merrily we raide
Throw the merkist gloffis of the night,
And we swam the floode and we darnit the woode
Till we cam to the Lommond height.

And quhen we cam to the Lommond height,
Se lythlye we lychtid doune;
And we drank fra the hornis that never grew,
The beer that was never browin.

Than up there rase ane wee wee man,
Franethe the moss-grey stane;
His fece was wan like the collifloure,
For he nouthir had blude nor bane.

He set ane reid-pipe till his muthe
And he playit se bonnilye,
Till the grey curlew and the black-cock flew
To listen his melodye.

It rang se sweet through the green Lommond
That the nycht-winde lowner blew,
And it soupit alang the Loch Leven
And wakinit the white seamew.

It rang se sweet through the grein Lommond,
Se sweitly butt and se shill,
That the wezilis laup out of their mouldy holis
And dancit on the mydnycht hill.

The corby-craw cam gledgin near,
The ern gede veeryng bye,
And the troutis laup out of the Leven Louch,
Charmit with the melodye.

And ay we dancit on the green Lommond
Till the dawn on the ocean grew —
Ne wonder I was a weary wycht
Quhan I cam hame to you!"

" Quhat guid, quhat guid, my weird weird wyfe,
Quhat guid was that to thee?
Ye wald better haif bein in yer bed at hame
Wi yer deire littil bairnis and me."

" The second nychte quhan the new moon set,
O'er the roaryng sea we flew;
The cockle-shell our trusty bark,
Our sailis of the grein sea-rue.

And the bauls windis blew, and the fire flauchtis flew,
And the sea ran to the skie;
And the thunner it growlit and the sea-dogs howlit
As we gaed scouryng bye.

And ay we mountit the sea-green hillis,
Quhill we brushit thro' the cludis of the hevin;
Than sousit dounright like the stern-shot light,
Fra the liftis blue casement driven.

But our taickil stood and our bark was good,
And se pang was our pearily prowe;
Quhan we culdna speil the brow of the wavis,
We needilit them throu belowe.

As fast as the hail, as fast as the gale,
As fast as the midnycht leme,
We borit the breiste of the burstyng swale,
Or fluffit i" the flotyng faem.

And quhan to the Norraway shore we wan,
We muntyd our steedis of the wynd,
And we splashit the floode, and we darnit the woode,
And we left the shouir behynde.

Fleet is the roe on the green Lommond
And swift is the couryng grew;
The reindeir dun can eithly run
Quhan the houndis and the hornis pursue.

But nowther the roe nor the reindeir dun,
The hinde nor the couryng grew,
Culde fly owr muntaine, muir and dale,
As owr braw steedis they flew.

The dales war deep, and the Doffrinis steep,
And we rase to the skyis ee-bree;
Quhite, quhite was ouir rode, that was never trode,
Owr the snawis of eternity!

And quhan we cam to the Lapland lone
The fairies war all in array,
For all the genii of the north
War keepyng their holeday.

The warlock men and the weerd wemyng
And the fays of the wood and the steep,
And the phantom hunteris all war there,
And the mermaidis of the deep.

And they washit us all with the witch-water
Distillit fra the moorland dew,
Quhill our beauty blumit like the Lapland rose,
That wylde in the foreste grew."

" Ye lee, ye lee, ye ill womyne,
Se loud as I heir ye lee!
For the warst-faurd wyfe on the shoris of Fife
Is cumlye comparet wi thee."

" Then the mermaidis sang and the woodlandis rang,
Se sweetly swellit the quire;
On every cliff a herpe they hang,
On every tree a lyre.

And ay they sang and the woodlandis rang,
And we drank and we drank se deep;
Then soft in the armis of the warlock men,
We laid us dune to sleep."

" Away, away, ye ill womyne,
An ill deide met ye dee!
Quhan ye hae pruvit se false to yer God
Ye can never pruve trew to me."

" And there we lernit fra the fairy foke
And fra our master true,
The wordis that can beire us throu the air,
And lokkis and baris undo.

Last nycht we met at Maisry's cot,
Richt weil the wordis we knew;
And we set a foot on the black cruik-shell,
And out at the lum we flew.

And we flew owr hill and we flew owr dale
And we flew owr firth and sea,
Until we cam to merry Carlisle
Quhar we lightit on the lea.

We gaed to the vault beyound the towir
Quhar we enterit free as ayr;
And we drank and we drank of the bishopis wine
Quhill we culde drynk ne mair."

" Gin that be trew, my gude auld wyfe,
Whilk thou hast tauld to me,
Betide my death, betide my lyfe,
I'll beire thee companye.

Neist tyme ye gaung to merry Carlisle
To drynk of the blude-reid wine —
Beshrew my heart, I'll fly with thee,
If the diel shulde fly behynde."

" Ah, littil do ye ken, my silly auld man,
The daingeris we maun dree;
Last nichte we drank of the bishopis wyne
Quhill near near taen war we.

Afore we wan to the sandy ford
The gorcockis nichering flew;
The lofty crest of Ettrick Pen
Was wavit about with blew,

And flichtering throu the air we fand
The chill chill mornyng dew.
As we flew owr the hillis of Braid,
The sun rase fair and clear;

There gurly James and his baronis braw
War out to hunt the deere.
Their bowis they drew, their arrowis flew,
And peircit the ayr with speede,

Quhill purpil fell the mornyng dew
With witch-blude rank and reide.
Littil do ye ken, my silly auld man,
The dangeris we maun dree;

Ne wonder I am a weary wycht
Quhan I come hame to thee."
" But tell me the word , my gude auld wyfe,
Come tell it me speedilye;

For I lang to drink of the gude reide wyne,
And to wyng the ayr with thee.
Yer hellish horse I wilna ryde,
Nor sail the seas in the wynd;

But I can flee as well as thee
And I'll drynk quhill ye be blynd."
" O fy! O fy! my leil auld man,
That word I darena tell;

It wald turn this warld all upside down,
And make it warse than hell,
For all the lasses in the land
Wald munt the wynd and fly;

And the men wald doff their doublets syde
And after them wald ply."
But the auld gudeman was ane cunnyng auld man,
And ane cunnyng auld man was he;

And he watchit and he watchit for mony a night
The witches' flychte to see.
Ane nychte he darnit in Maisry's cot,
The fearless haggs came in;

And he heard the word of awsome weird,
And he saw their deedis of synn.
Then ane by ane they said that word
As fast to the fire they drew,

Then set a foot on the black cruik-shell
And out at the lum they flew.
The auld gude-man cam fra his hole
With feire and muckil dreide,

But yet he culdna think to rue,
For the wyne came in his head.
He set his foot in the black cruik-shell
With ane fixit and ane wawlyng ee,

And he said the word that I darena say
And out at the lum flew he.
The witches skalit the moonbeam pale,
Deep groanit the trembling wynde;

But they never wist till our auld gudeman
Was hoveryng them behynde.
They flew to the vaultis of merry Carlisle
Quhair they enterit free as ayr,

And they drank and they drank of the byshopis wyne
Quhill they culde drynk ne mair.
The auld gudeman he grew se crouse,
He dancit on the mouldy ground,

And he sang the bonniest sangis of Fife,
And he tuzzlit the kerlyngs round.
And ay he percit the tither butt,
And he suckit and he suckit se lang,

Quhill his een they closit, and his voice grew low,
And his tongue wold hardly gang.
The kerlyngs drank of the bishopis wyne
Quhill they scentit the mornyng wynde,

Then clove again the yeilding ayr
And left the auld man behynde.
And ay he slepit on the damp damp floor,
He slepit and he snorit amain;

He never dremit he was far fra hame,
Or that the auld wyvis war gane.
And ay he slepit on the damp damp floor
Quhill past the midday highte,

Quhan wakenit by five rough Englishmen
That trailit him to the lychte.
" Now quha are ye, ye silly auld man,
That sleepis se sound and se weil?

Or how gat ye into the bishopis vault
Throu lokkis and barris of steel?"
The auld gudeman he tryit to speak
But ane word he culdna fynde;

He tryit to think but his head whirlit round,
And ane thing he culdna mynde;
" I cam fra Fife", the auld man cryit,
" And I cam on the midnycht wynde."

They nickit the auld man and they prickit the auld man,
And they yerkit his limbis with twine,
Quhill the reid blude ran in his hose and shoon,
But some cryit it was wyne.

They lickit the auld man and they prickit the auld man,
And they tyit him till ane stone;
And they set ane bele-fire him about,
And they burnit him skin and bone.

Now wae be to the puir auld man
That ever he saw the day!
And wae be to all the ill wemyng
That lead puir men astray!

Let never ane auld man after this
To lawless greide inclyne;
Let never an auld man after this
Rin post to the diel for wyne.