The book of British ballads . d them sure, on the Tarras Muir; We stabled them sure, quoth he— Before we could cross the quaking moss They all were lost but me. He clenched his fist, and he knocked on the chest, And he heard a stifled groan ;And at the third knock each rusty lock Did open one by one. He turned away his eyes as the lid did rise, And he listened silentlie ;And he heard breathed slow, in murmurs low, Beware of a coming tree ! In muttering sound the rest was drowned, No other word heard he ;But slow as it rose, the lid did close With the rusty padlocks three.***** Now rose with Br
The book of British ballads . d them sure, on the Tarras Muir; We stabled them sure, quoth he— Before we could cross the quaking moss They all were lost but me. He clenched his fist, and he knocked on the chest, And he heard a stifled groan ;And at the third knock each rusty lock Did open one by one. He turned away his eyes as the lid did rise, And he listened silentlie ;And he heard breathed slow, in murmurs low, Beware of a coming tree ! In muttering sound the rest was drowned, No other word heard he ;But slow as it rose, the lid did close With the rusty padlocks three.***** Now rose with Branxholms ae brother The Teviot, high and low;Bauld Walter by name, of meikle fame, For none could bend his bow. Oer glen and glade, to Soulis there sped The fame of his array,And that Teviotdale would soon assail His towers and castle gray. With clenched fist, he knocked on the chest, And again he heard a groan ;And he raised his eyes as the lid did rise, But answer heard he none. E. E. Mlan, del Linton. sc 151 HorU The charm was broke, when the spirit spoke, And it murmured sullenlie,— Shut fast the door, and for evermore Commit to me the key. Alas ! that ever thou raisedst thine eyes, Thine eyes to look on me !Till seven years are oer, return no more, For here thou must not be. Think not but Soulis was wae to yield His warlock chamber oer ;He took the keys from the rusty lock, That never were taen before. He threw them oer his left shoulder, With meikle care and pain ;And he bade it keep them fathoms deep, Till he returned again. And still, when seven years are oer, Is heard the jarring sound ;When slowly opes the charmed door Of the chamber under ground. And some within the chamber door Have cast a curious eye ;But none dare tell, for the spirits in hell, The fearful sights they spy. *? * * * * When Soulis thought on his merry-men now, A woful wight was he ;Says— Vengeance is mine, and I will not repine, But Branxholms heir shall die ! Says— What would you d
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