THOMAS RYMER

True Thomas lay o'er yond grassy bank,
And he beheld a lady gay,
A lady that was brisk and bold,
Come riding o'er the fernie brae.

Her skirt was of the grass-green silk,
Her mantel of the velvet fine,
At ilka tet o'her horse's mane
Hung fifty silver bells and nine.

True Thomas he took off his hat,
And bowed him low down till his knee:
All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For your like on earth I never did see."

"O no, O no, True Thomas," she says,
"That name does not belong to me;
I am but the queen of fair Elfland,
And I am come here for to visit thee."

"But ye maun go wi' me now, Thomas,
True Thomas ye maun go wi' me
For ye maun serve me seven years,
Thro weel or wae, as may chance to be."

She turned about her milk-white steed,
And took True Thomas up behind,
And aye whene'er her bridle rang,
The steed flew swifter than the wind.

For forty days and forty nights
He wade thro red blude to the knee,
And he saw neither sun sun nor moon,
But heard the roaring of the sea.

O they rode on, and farther on,
Until they came to a garden green:
"Light down, light down, ye ladie free,
Some of that fruit let me pull to thee."

"O no, O no, True Thomas," she says,
"That fruit maun not be touched by thee,
For a' the plagues that are in hell
Light on the fruit of this countrie.

"But I have a loaf here in my lap,
Likewise a bottle of claret wine,
And now ere we go farther on,
We'll rest a while, and ye may dine."

When he had eaten and drunk his fill,
"Lay down your head upon my knee,"
The lady sayd, "ere we climb yon hill,
And I will show you ferlies three."

"O see not ye yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the path of eighteousness,
Tho after it but few enquires."

"And see not ye yon baid braid road,
That lies across yon lilly leven?
That is the path of wickedness,
Tho some call it the road to heaven."

"And see not ye that bonny road,
Which winds about the fernie brae?
That is the road to fair Elfland,
Whe(re) you and I this night maun gae.

"But Thomas you must hold your tounge,
Whatever you may hear or see,
For gin ae word you should chance to speak,
You will neer get back to your ain countrie."

He has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a pair of shoes of the velvet green,
And till seven years were past and gone
True Thomas on earth was never seen.

'The Viking Book Of Folk Ballads of the English-Speaking World'...no date shown,... or it's missing. No tune shown.

Text:Jamieson,II,7, Compared with A.F.Tytler's Brown MS.