The boat has left a stormy land,

A stormy sea before her,

When, oh! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gathered o'er her.

And still they rowed, amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing :

-Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore,
His wrath was changed to wailing;

For sore dismayed, through storm and shade,
His child he did discover;

One lovely hand she stretched for aid,
And one was round her lover.

"Come back! come back! (he cried in grief),

Across this stormy water;

And I'll forgive your Highland chief –

My daughter! oh, my daughter!"

'Twas vain-the loud waves lashed the shore,

Return or aid preventing ;

The waters wild went o'er his child

And he was left lamenting.

LORD SOULIS.

BY THE LATE J. LEYDEN, M. D.

THE dreadful and appalling end of this vile oppressor, is said to have had its foundation in the following fact. The King being tired and irritated by the incessant complaints made of his rapacity and cruelty, is reported to have said, I wish he was boiled alive, so that I heard no more of him," or words to that effect, by no means intending their full import. But

"

It is the curse of Kings to be attended

By slaves, that take their humour, for a warrant;"

Some of those present gladly catching at the hasty expression, set off for Hermitage, and put it literally into effect; and the messenger dispatched by the King, on hearing of their hasty departure, only arrived in time to witness the end of the tragedy.

The ruins of Hermitage Castle are still regarded by the neighbouring peasants with horror; and they shrink from looking into the apartment where Soulis is said to have had his demoniacal consultations; which is, in reality, the dungeon of the castle, and which they suppose to be opened by the demon once in every seven years

The Nine-Stane Rig is a declivity from the hills which separate Liddesdale and Teviotdale, sloping to the water of Hermitage. It derives its name from a circle of Druidical stones, of which there were formerly nine remaining, and now five.

Red Cap is a popular appellation of a class of spirits, supposed to haunt castles and mansions.

The idea here exhibited of Soulis' attendant demon, is said to be taken from the story of the spirit ORTHONE and the Lord of CORASSE, related by Froissart. This tale, which is much too long for insertion here, will be found in the Border Minstrelsy, vol. iii.

LORD SOULIS he sat in Hermitage Castle,

And beside him old Red-Cap sly:

"Now tell me, thou sprite, who art mickle of might, The death that I must die."

"While thou shalt bear a charmed life, And hold that life of me,

'Gainst lance and arrow, sword and knife, I shall thy warrant be.

"Nor forged steel, nor hempen band, Shall e'er thy limbs confine,

Till three-fold ropes of sifted sand

Around thy body twine.

"If danger press fast, knock thrice on thy chest, With rusty padlocks bound;

Turn away your eyes, when the lid shall arise,

And listen to the sound."

Lord Soulis he sat in Hermitage Castle,

And Red-Cap was not by,

And he called on a page, who was witty and sage,

To go to the barmkin high :

"And look thou east, and look thou west,

And quick, come tell to me,

What troopers haste along the waste,

And what may their livery be."

He looked o'er fell, and he looked o'er flat,

But nothing, I wist, he saw,

Save a pyot, on a turret that sat,

Beside a corby craw.

The page looked out at the skrieh* of day,

But nothing, I wist, he saw,

Till a horseman gray, in the royal array,

66

Rode down the hazelshaw.

Say, why do you cross o'er moor and moss?"

*Peep.

So loudly cried the page.

"The nice morn, on the Indian steep,

From her cabin'd loop-hole peep."-MILTON'S Comus.-ED.

R

"I tidings bring, from Scotland's king, To Soulis of Hermitage.

"He bids me tell that bloody warden, Oppressor of low and high,

If ever again his lieges complain,

The cruel Soulis shall die.”

By traitorous sleight they seized the knight,
Before he rode or ran;

And through the key-stone of the vault
They plunged him, horse and man.

O, May* she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry-Green;

And May she was the fairest maid
That ever yet was seen.

O, May she came, and May she gaed,
By Goranberry tower;

And who was it but cruel Lord Soulis,
That carried her from her bower!

He brought her to his castle gray,
By Hermitage's side;

Says, "Be content, my lovely May,
For thou shalt be my bride."

With her yellow hair, that glittered fair,
She dried the trickling tear!

She sighed the name of Branxholm's heir,-
The youth that loved her dear.

"Now be content, my bonny May!
And take it for your hame;

Or ever and aye shall ye rue the day
You heard young Branxholm's name."

* A term for a young lady.

O'er Branxholm tower, ere the morning hour, When the lift is like lead so blue;

The smoke shall roll white on the weary night, And the flame shine dimly through.

Syne he's called on him Ringan red,
A sturdy kemp was he;
From friend or foe, in border-feud,
Who never a foot would flee.

Red-Ringan sped, and the spearman led
Up Goranberry slack;

Ay! many a wight, unmatched in fight,
Who never more came back.

And bloody set the westering sun,
And bloody rose he up;

But little thought young Branxholm's heir,
Where he that night should sup.

He shot the roebuck on the lee,

The dun deer on the law;
The glamour + sure was in his e’e,
When Ringan nigh did draw.

O'er heathy edge, through rustling sedge,

He sped till day was set;

And he thought it was his merry men true,

When he the spearmen met.

Far from relief, they seized the chief,

His men were far away;

Through Hermitage slack, they sent him back,

To Soulis Castle gray;

Syne onward far from Branxholm tower,

Where all his merry men lay.

* Sky.

+ Magical delusion.