I believe it is thus that many
very ancient songs have been gradually modernised, to the common
ear; while, to the connoisseur, they present marks of their genuine
antiquity."--_Letter to the Editor from Mr. James Hogg_. To the
observations of my ingenious correspondent I have nothing to add,
but that, in this, and a thousand other instances, they accurately
coincide with my personal knowledge.
AULD MAITLAND.
* * * * *
There lived a king in southern land,
King Edward hight his name;
Unwordily he wore the crown,
Till fifty years were gane.
He had a sister's son o's ain,
Was large of blood and bane;
And afterward, when he came up,
Young Edward hight his name.
One day he came before the king,
And kneel'd low on his knee--
"A boon, a boon, my good uncle,
"I crave to ask of thee!
"At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,
"I fain hae wished to be;
"If fifteen hundred waled[90] wight men
"You'll grant to ride wi' me."
"Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae mae;
"I say it sickerlie;
"And I mysell, an auld gray man,
"Array'd your host sall see."
King Edward rade, King Edward ran--
I wish him dool and pyne!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.
And thrice as many at Berwicke[91]
Were all for battle bound,
_Who, marching forth with false Dunbar,
A ready welcome found_.
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