illie said, with tears encumbered,
"Cheer up, cheer up, dear Marjorie,
For I have gold in sums unnumbered,
And it shall all belong to thee."
"And art thou true, and still unmarried?
And is thy bodie not a seim?
And is it true my ears have carried,
Or is it a' a lying dream?"

"All, all is true, my dearest hinny,
What thou'rt to me I am to thee,
Our years on earth may still be many,
And quickly we shall wedded be."
"Ah, weel! ah, weel!" and sighing, sobbing,
She on his breast her head hath lain;
And as he felt her bosom throbbing,
He kissed her ower and ower again.

And he has bought a noble mansion,
And stocked it with all things genteel
Of costly price--nor need we mention
The rock and reel and spinning-wheel;
And he has bought a noble carriage,
With servants in gay liverie,
I trow there was an unco marriage
In the ancient wynd of Saint Marie.

IX.

THE LEGEND OF MARY LEE.[A]

_(Another Version.)_

[Footnote A: See the strange song of the same name in the
_Scottish Gallovidean Encyclopaedia_, from which I borrow
some of the maledictory epithets. Grotesque they may be, but
they are justified by the vocabulary of our old witch-sibyls
used in curses and incantations, as we find in books of
diablerie.]

Though Robert was heir to broad Kildearn,
He had often with gipsies roved,
And from gipsies he came a name to earn,
Which was dear to the maid he loved.
To ladies fair he was Robert St. Clair,
When he met them in companie;
To a certain one, and to her alone,
He was only Robin-a-Ree.[2]

[Footnote 2: Kingly, or royal, in the gipsy tongue.]

Through Kildearn's woods they were wont to rove,
And they knew well the trysting tree;
The green sward was their bed of love,
And the green leaves their canopie.
But the love of the virgin heart is shy,
And hangs between hope and fear;
It is fed by the light of a lover's eye,
And it trusts thro' the willing ear.

"My Mary! I swear by yon Solway tide,
Which is true to the queen of night,
That thou shalt be my chosen bride
When I come to my lawful right:
My father is now an aged man,
And but few years more can see;
And when he dies, old Kildearn's land
Belongs to Robin-a-Ree."

"Oh Robin, oh Robin," and Mary sighed,
"Aye faithfu' to you I hae been,
As true as ever yon Solway tide
Is true to yon silvery queen.
And faithfu' and true I will ever prove
Till that happy day shall be,
When I will be