8
'Hold your hand, Thomas,' she says,
'Hold your hand, that must not be;
It was a' that cursed fruit o thine
Beggared man and woman in your countrie.
9
'But I have a loaf and a soup o wine,
And ye shall go and dine wi me;
And lay yer head down in my lap,
And I will tell ye farlies three.
10
'It's dont ye see yon broad broad way,
That leadeth down by yon skerry fell?
It's ill's the man that dothe thereon gang,
For it leadeth him straight to the gates o hell.
11
'It's dont ye see yon narrow way,
That leadeth down by yon lillie lea?
It's weel's the man that doth therein gang,
For it leads him straight to the heaven hie.'
* * * * *
12
It's when she cam into the hall—
I wat a weel bred man was he—
They've asked him question, one and all,
But he answered none but that fair ladie.
13
O they speerd at her where she did him get,
And she told them at the Eildon tree;
. . . . . . .
. . . . . . .
C.
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, II, 251, ed. 1802.
1
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank,
A ferlie he spied wi' his ee,
And there he saw a lady bright,
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.