THE GROUSOME CARYL ; Ane most Treuthful Ballant,

Compilit be Mr Hougge. THERE wals ane man came out of the weste,

And ane uncouth caryl wals hee, 'For the bouzely hayre upon his hede

Wals pirlit with his derke eebree,

And the feint ane browe had this caryl ava,

That mortyl man cold see,
For all from his noz to his sholder blaide

Wals duffit rychte fearsomelye.

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And hee nouther hald bonnet, hoze, nor shone,

Nor sarke nor trewis hald hee,
But ane short buffe jerking rounde his waiste,

That hardlye reechyt his knee.
And hee hald a belt of the gude bullis hyde,

And ane buckil of irone hald hee,
And he buir ane pole on his sholder,

Wals ten lang feite and three.
Als hee came up by the Craigyeburn,

With stalwarde steppe and free,
Hee lokit up to the Saddil-Yoke,

Als hee wolde take wingis and flee.

And aye hee keuste his burlye heede

To flyng the hayre from his ee;
And hee hemmit and snockerit so awsome loude,

That the levis shoke on the tree.

And the lyttel wee burdis helde up their neckis,

And maide their croppis full sma',
And till that caryl wals out of sychte,

Ane breath they durste not drawe.
And the wodeman grypit to his long bille,

Thynking his lyffe wals gone,
And ranne behynde the hezil bushe,

Tille the stalwarde caryl passit on.

And the deeris. toke to their heelis and ranne,

With their nozes fro the wynde,
And till they wonne to Carryfron Gans,

They nefer lokit them behynde.

And the verrye doggis of the sheepherd ladis
Were seizit with

burninge dreide,
For they toke their tailes betweine their houghis,

And made to the braies with speide :

And they eshotte out their crookyt tungis,

In lenthe more than ane spanne,
And laid their luggis backe to their neckis,

And whynkit als theye ranne.
And the oussen cockyt their stupid heedis,

And swatchyt theire tailis full longe,
And aye they caiperit rounde and rounde,

And wiste not quhat wals wronge. And aye quhan the caryl gave a yowte,

Or snockerit with belsche and braye, Then all the rockis playit clatter agayne,

And nicherit for mylis awaye.

And the welderis started on the steipe,

Or scowrit alongis the lee, And the lyttil wee kiddis rose from their layris,

And blette moste erdlischlye.

And he pullit the braiken fro the slacke,

The hedder fro the hille, The rown-tree fro the Straung-Cleuche Linne,

And the birke of the Raken Guille.

And seven Scottis ellis of that deipe holle,

He coverit up cairfullye,
And there he laye with his horrid crewe,

Unseine be mortyl ee;
For no manne dorst come nie that houffe,

For the lyffe of his bodye.

But the oussen sancted fro the houmis,

The welderis fro the brae;
Quhille the herdis gromblit throu the londe,

And wist not quhat til saye.

Young maidis were missyng fro their beddis,

Before the brikke of the daye,
And moderis rockyd their tome credlis,

For the bairnis had elyit awaye.
But worde is gone eåste, and worde is gone weste,

From Yarrawe unto the Ae;
And came to the Lord of Annerdaille,

At Lochess quhare he laye.

That Lorde he leuche at his vasselmenis tale,

And he sayde full jocundlye, I will wende to the Grey-Meris Linne the morne,

This grousome caryl to see.

Lord Annerdaille rose at the skreigh of the daye,

And mounted his berry-browne steide, With fouré-and-twentye wale wychte menne,

To guairde him in tymme of neide.

And thre stainche blode-hundis at his heile,

Of the terrouble border brude,
That weille cold tracke the mydnichte theiffe,

Or the sheddour of Chrystean blude.

And quhen hee comit to the Hunter-Heck,

Och there wals a greeveous maene,
For somethynge wals myssing over nychte,

That colde not be tolde againe.

But hee lousit the leishes of his blode-hundis

That lokit bothe doure and droye,
For they nouthir rowit them on the swairde,

Nor scamperit runde for joye.

But they snokyd the dewe, and snokyd the dewe,

And snokit it ouer againe ;
And the byrsis raise uponne their backis,

Broschit lyke ane wyld boris maine.
Then Jowler hee begoude to youffe,

With a shorte and ane aungrie tone, And German's ee begoude to glent,

With blode-reide glaire thereonne.

But Harper turnit his flewe to the hevinis,

And hee gaif ane tout so longe, That all the wodis in Moffat-daille,

With moulesse echois ronge.

That wals the true and the wairnynge note,

Awaye wente the hundis amaine,
And awaye wente the horsmen them behynde,

With spurre and with steddye reine.

But the fordis were deippe, and the bankis were steippe,

And paithwaye there wals none,
And or they wonne to the Selcothe Burne,

The braif blode-hundis were gone.

But they hearit the echois dynnling on,

Alonge the cludis so caulme,
Als gin the spyritis of the fellis

Were synging their mornyng psaulme.

And the egill lefte his mistye haime,

Amiddis the cliffe so grimmé,
And he belted the mornyngis ruddye browe,

And joinit in the blodye hymme.

“ Spur on, spur on," cryit Annerdaille,

“ Leiste evil mine hundis betydde,
Gin the reiveris hydde were maide of irne,

Ane ryving it moste bydde."

Quhan they came up to the Greye-Meris Linne,

To the trenche bothe deippe and longe,
Lord Annerdaille's steide turnit runde his heide,
No farther he dochte

gange:

But age he scraipyd, and he snorit

And lukyd with wylde dismaye,
And fain wald haif spoken to his maister;

But colde not get worde to saye.
• Who holdis this holle," cryit Annerdaille,

“ This denne of dreide and doubte?
Gin yee bee creaturis of mortyl byrthe,

I soummont you to come oute.”

He hearit ane snockir, and than ane laughe,

And than ane smotherit screime,
Als gin the devil haid been asleipe

And wakenit oute of ane dreime.

And the three blode-hundis youlit aloude,

Quhan theye hearit their maisteris voyce ;
For theye were chainit withyne the cave;

And frightesome grewe the noise.
But oute then came the grousome caryl,

And up on his trenche stode hee,
And his towzlye hede it kythit als hiche

Als the hill of Turnberrye.
Lord Annerdaille hald not worde to saye,

For his herte it beatte so faste;
And thoche he put grette couryge on,

He stode full sore aghaste.
Vol. XVII.

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And aye hee lokit at the carylis maike,

And then at his pygmye mennis ;They were no more before his faice

Than ane scrowe of cockis and hennis.

Chryste be mine shielde !” said Lord Annerdaille,

“ For als mine faithe shall shwyve, If ten such carylis were in the londe,

They wold swallowe it up alyve.”. “Quhat seike you heire ?" quod the gyant caryl,

“ Or quhat is your wille with mee?"“ We seike for oussen, sheipe, and kye,

And eke for ane faire ladye !"“ You shall haif their bonis then,” said the caryl ;

“ You shall haif them with righte gode wille, Quhan mine gude demis and nobil sonnis

Haif gnawit at them their fille.”“ Lorde be myne shielde !" quod Annerdaille,

« And saife me from skaithe and scorne ! For the lykis of that I nefer hearit,

From the daye that I wals borne. “Louse forthe myne hundis, thou baisse reiver !

If rackle thou woldest not bee.”“ Lothe wold I bee,” the caryl replyit,

“ For outhir youre golde or fee. Theye wil brynge downe the stott but and the steire, The welder and

the fleite hynde ; Or be dejune to myne gude demis, Quhan better they may not fynde.”

Lord Annerdaille he waxed wrothe,

Such thochtis he colde not thole, And he vowit to shede the carylis blode,

And burrye him in his holle. “ Art thou for battil ?” the caryl replyit,

“That thynge rejoysethe mee; For it will pleisse our stomackis to feiste

On thyne fatte men and thee.”

Hee bore ane polle on his sholder

Wals ten large feite and three,
And out of that hee throste ane speire,

Moste dreadfulle for to see.

Lord Annerdaille's men drew out their brandis,

And flewe on the caryl amaine ; But in five twynkillyngis of an ee,

Ane thirde of them lay slaine.