precipice, from one tree to another, till
I found myself standing on a green and
sunny mound or promontory, half way
between the vale and the moor. The
river had here accomplished its first
fearful leap, and was preparing for
another of less depth, but of equal beau-
ty. I advanced along the green sward
mound, which bore evident marks of
recent cultivation. A few flowers and
shrubs, not native to the soil, remained
clinging to the spot in stunted and
neglected beauty, and a fruit tree
or two, long past their prime, had sub-
mitted to the blast, and bowed down
to the earth, leaned over the rapid cur-
rent, till their branches glistened with
moisture. On the limit of this mound,
I stood and gazed on a scene equally
singular and unexpected. At the bot-
tom of this upper promontory, another
still more beautiful and broad, and edg-
ed with rock, to resist the perpetual
chafing of the stream, seemed projecting
like a fairy table from the face of the
cliff, and a time-worn and humble cot-
tage occupied its abrupt extremity.
The mound might be a good penny-
stone cast in breadth, and twice as
much in length. The earth seemed
once to have owed much to cultivation.
At present it was a level and smooth
green sward, and owned neither flower
nor bush, except a natural enclosure of
wild plum-trees, on which the ripe
fruit hung in thick and black powdry
clusters. This hedge-row surrounded
the cottage, and completely hemmed in
the mound, and rendered it one of the
loveliest spots I ever looked upon. The That grinds my corn, and bakes my bread;
station from which I looked was eleva-
ted about fifteen feet above its neigh-
bour mound, and the wild plum trees,
ascending to the level of the upper
ground, came with their dark clustering
fruit to my very feet. I stooped to
pluck and taste the productions of
this fairy region, when lo! to my
utter fear and astonishment, I observed
seated on a large squared block of sand-
stone, an old and feeble, and withered
WOMAN. She wore a lappeted mutch
over her gray hairs, a kind of cloth cap
surmounted this, and around her shoul-
ders was a lowland maud, or plaid,
2Z ATHENEUM VOL. 7.

fastened by a broach of massy silver,
She sat basking herself in the beams of
the new risen sun, and spread out her
wrinkled and palsied hands, to the ge-
nial warmth of the luminary. I could
not look, without emotion, on this an-
cient and solitary being, and it was ev-
ident she felt sensible of the presence
of some stranger, for she glanced her
large gray eyes sharply and suspicious-
ly around, but screened by the thick
and leafy hedge, I continued concealed
from her eye, though I was certainly
present to her other senses.
While I
was considering of some suitable mode
of introducing myself to the ancient
dame, I observed her stoop and lift a
roke or distaff, from which thread,
black as the back of a raven, depended,
and a small fleece of the same ominous
colour lay at her feet. This primitive

instrument she soon put in motion, and while she whirled it round, to give consistency and twirl to her thread, she began to chant a song addressed to her ROKE, which disclosed something of her history, her calling, and the merits of this gifted implement of industry.

THE WITCH OF AE'S SONG.

1.

Turn round, thou bit of the rarest timmer

Ere bore a bud to the dew o'simmer,

Thou wert nursed in a cleugh o' blood and strife,

I' the mirkest nook o' the haunted Dryfe;.
Nor wert thou plucked by steel or airn,
But by the cauld hand o' a strangled bairn,

When the stars fell sick, and the moon grew dull,
By the will-o'-wisp gleam frae a dead man's skull.
2.

"Thou ae best friend i' my starkest need,

That frae the bawk the fat hen wiles,
And milks the kye for a thousand miles;

That keeps me cozie, and brings to me,
The bird frae the busb, an' the fruit frame the tree;

That reaps me riggs I never plowed,

And melts men's hearts like minted gowd.

3.

A thousand lights i' the earth gae out-
'Gainst the flight o' the sun, as I spin thee about,
As I turn thee around wi' the warld, I win
A thousand lives to this land o' sin.
Muckle dool hast thou done-an' gory wark,

To unbaptized brows, and the cruel Turk;
Muckle dool hast thou done, and may do mair
To th' unwelcome foot in thy owner's lair.
4.

'A bonnie ship o'er the Solway went,

An' snored through the brine wi' her white sails bent,
I turned my timmer, the shriek frae the sea
Came far up Criffeis' green mountain to me-

I turned it back, with a moistened wing,
Away shot the ship, and I heard the men sing,
An' the maids o' Colvend, with a startling laugh,
Grat an' shouted for joy to see her safe.

5.

There was dool to win-there was dool to pu’,
Frae the bird o' the fiend this sooty woo.
A strange black raven, wi' croak and peck,
Poud this lock at midnight frae a black tup's neck;
I turned my timmer-and now I twine
My thread, an' sing i' the bonnie sunshine;
But I hae a drag i' the dwine o' the moon,
To do, an' syne my song is done.'

"During the chanting of this infer-
nal lyric, I felt all those terrors which
- tradition says men feel when some spell
or charm freezes up their spirit, and
roots them to the earth as motionless as
a stone or tree. With every turn of
the roke, a new verse succeeded, and the
mysterious woman looked around with
the light of satisfaction glimmering in
her eyes-pleased to think of the suc-
cess of her evil hymn. Such sorcery
did these verses, and the person that
uttered them, exercise over my facul-
ties, that I could not help repeating
them in a kind of unconsenting mutter
after her, and the peculiar emphasis with
which she announced dool to the unwel-
come foot, rung in my ear like a psalm
sung on a scaffold. At last she arose,
and, turning slowly to the west, and
bowing her charmed roke thrice, she
exclaimed, in a tone rivalling is harmo-
ny the note of the raven when the
schoolboy climbs to her young, "Woe
and dool to the secret foot-stranger
come forth." Whether the charm she
employed compelled me to obey her,
or that it was predestined I should be
waiting-man to all the curious dames in
the district, I stept involuntarily for-
ward to the projecting pinnacle of the
promontory, and, bowing to the bel-
dame, said,Honest looking woman,
I have no mind to molest ye,- can you
show me the way to John Macmuc-
kle's?' 'O, honest looking woman,'
reiterated the dame of Ae Glen, turning
her withered and brown visage full on
me, displaying a large black mole that
shaded the whole of her left eye-brow,
and a variety of teeth which unsparing
time had mutilated into short and rusty
fangs, and wherefore no honest wom-
an, ye unsonsy callan-mint another sic

ly word, and on that cliff shalt

thou abide till the hooded craws fill their crapins frae atween thy bosom. banes! honest looking woman, my certy!' The terror of her words-the anger of her looks-and the eagerness with which I gazed on her fearful and antique face, made me forget myself; and, having stood too close to the border of the mound, the green turf suddenly gave way, and down I plunged headlong into the beldame's garden, crushing down an entire plumb-tree, and leaving a gap in her fruit-tree fence wide enough for the passage of a loaded car. Up I started, more alarmed at my intrusion than injured by my fall, and confronted the owner of the garden holding a broken branch loaded with ripe plums in one hand, and a green turf in the other, tokens of my involuntary descent, and the pains I had taken to avert it or render it easy. On me looked the old woman for a minute's space, more in commiseration than anger, down she laid her roke, seized an old staff, the head of which still retained marks of having worn a covering of precious metal, said, lift the_roke, Mark Macrabin, and follow-I have wark for thee!' and away she halted into her cottage, with slow steps, and efforts that cost her pain. I lifted her roke, not with my bared hand, but, passing part of the plum-tree branch beneath it, I bore it after her as a timid schoolboy carries a live eel, and internally blessing myself; for it seemed a Into the cotperilous undertaking.

tage, the door of which, from the rudeness of its architecture and lowness of its lintle, resembled a cavern more than an entrance to a human abode, I followed her. The passage required me to stoop, and I soon found myself in a kind of chamber, filled with that thick and bitter smoke which arises from burning green wood. Living thing I could not discern, till on advancing I saw like a dim hearth fire, struggling for existence, amidst the very cloud it had producedthe form of a human being seated on one side, and a similar form seated on the other. I stood stone-still, and gazed on these guardians of the hearth, neither of whom uttered a word, nor did I attempt to break the silence, but

was wreathed around with a century's soot. All that the apartment contained was three square blocks of freestone, placed as seats round the hearth fire, on two of which sat my conductress and her companion. The third stood unoccupied for me, and into this uncomfortable resting-place was I speedily_motioned by the yellow hand of Janet Morison,the cannie cummer of Ae Glen. "I had now leisure and resolution also to turn my eye on the silent figure beside me. The thick smoke that shrouded her before was now passed away, but a dark mantle thrown over her head, and reaching down to the floor like a shroud, wrapped her all round-I never beheld any shape that awakened my curiosity so much, but my desire to know more of this mysterious figure was soon redoubled

stood looking on the one and looking on the other, with the witch's roke in my right hand, and wiping the tears which the bitter smoke brought abundantly from my eyes with the left. The old woman, my conductress, pitied me, and pulling a pair of fall-boards' belonging to a window, instantly opened, and through the apertures the smoke escaped in volumes. She held out her hand-snatched her roke, and beginning to spin, said, not to her companion nor to me, but evidently to herself, though she spoke in her usual audible tone' Sackless callant! sackless callant! louping on the green tap of Lagghill wi' a gang of raving gomerals, then snooling amang rags and ram horns, with a horde of deaving gypsies. Its a sad and sair pity to behold youthfu' blood gaun a gate sae gray. Janet Morison, ye maun e'en try to make a saut some-Nannie, my sweet and lost lass,' said thing out o' this sackless callant.' And then she looked on me with her great gray eyes, and then towards the figure seated opposite, with a look of pitying reflection. The smoke had now eddyed completely out of the chamber, and I obtained a full view of the apartment. It contained no furniture to impede my examination. The walls that had once been plastered, were naked and shining with soot; the rooftree and rafters were seen bare, and two large pieces of timber that supported the whole trusted not to the walls, which were of loose stones, but descending to the floor, grooved their bases in the ground, which was of gravelly clay. Where the rooftree joined the gabel, an aperture had been made for the smoke, but this was nearly choked up with soot, and so slight was the indraught of air, that the reek, after having filled all the roof, descended cloud after cloud to the very floor, where it stood motionless and still, unless the supplemental chimney or window opened its oaken fall-boards to per mit its escape. From the rooftree, directly over the fire, a long iron chain depended, and from the chain a bar of iron hooked at the lower end for the purpose of suspending vessels over the fire; but this seemed to be seldom trusted with the weight of cooking utensils, and

the beldame, in a tone far sweeter than her common speech-lang looked for's come at last-the thing that maun be maun be-and sic is the wierd of a human flesh-I maun e'en set a stout heart to the darke-sair, sair hae I pled that the ripe ear might drop to the sickle, and the green ear remain unshorn-but it wasnae to be !-The voice called once, and the voice called twice-wi' the third call auld Janet Morison maun buckle and gang.' As the old woman spoke, the agitation of the mantled figure became extreme at first something of an involuntary shuddering came over her, and the folds of the mantle shook and undulated over her bosom, like ripening grain moving in the windthe shudderings ceased, and sighs audible and deep were heard, and through the folds of the mantle-held with both hands to her eyes, the tears seemed to come-drop succeeding drop. My heart, that had turned from the old woman and her whole establishment at the first interview, began now to take a deep interest in her fate, which all that I heard and saw induced me to conclude was involved in some strange mystery-above all, I longed to take the mantled figure by the hand, and say, in the tender language of the Scripture, alas, why art thou disquieted!

The old woman guessed, or knew what
was passing in my thoughts, and resum-
ing her croaking note, said Sackless
callan sackless callan! eighty and
eighteen years hae I dwalt in this glen
--and a' flesh that smiled as I smiled
—that I hae nursed i' my heart, and
dandled on my knee, is raked wi' the
Inools that stream that comes drap-
ping down, singing wi' a gladsome din
amang the lang green birks-had the
same voice then as it has now-yon
rising sun gleamed as brightly then as
is does now and the same sweet sang
o' the mavis and the laverock-the tane
on the craig, and the tither 'neath the
cloud, was heard at my bridal-was
heard at the death of my goodman-
and the burial o'a' my bairns-bow-
bow, never stand against the blast,
stoop, stoop--and let the tempest fly
o'er ye-men are no made to rin for
ever like the streams-women are not
made to smile for ever like this sweet
morning we may gang soon-or we
may gang syne, but gang we maun-
therefore come wi' me, and let me look
at yon bonnie beaming sun-It's the
last time I shall ever see it arise !'-The
voice of the old woman as she proceed-
ed became soft and even pathetic, and
swelling to a tone of deep seriousness,
and the mantled figure, who had be-
come calm and tranquil, now appeared
moved and agitated, and her sighs and
sobbings were renewed. But when the
old dame desired me to come and look
at the full risen sun, she arose, not slow
and by degrees as her more aged com-
panion did-but starting to her feet at
once, she dropped from her head and
shoulders the large mantle-and the
most beautiful apparition appeared that
ever blessed the sight of man. She
seemed to be about seventeen-tall,
slender, and handsome-her head was
uncovered-nor was her forehead
bound in that fillet of maidenhood pe-
culiar to Scotland-the snood-her
locks descended in wild and untame-
able profusion down her back and over
her shoulders, parting in the middle of
her forehead, and shrouding her bosom
like the divine Madonna of Corregio.
Amid this streaming luxuriance of locks

her face alone was bare-and a face
more lovely-sublimed by melancholy
thought-and washen with dropping
tears-it has never been my lot to look
upon. Her brow had more the icy gloss
of polished marble than the living glow
of breathing beauty; and her eyes,
which were large and round, and fring-
ed with the longest black silken lashes
I ever beheld, had something of a wild
and unearthly expression-but still an
expression of gentleness. She glided
past me, and casting her long and round
and white arms about the neck of the
old woman, walked into the sunny
air. I followed-for I found myself
linked to this pair by something like a
charm-and the deep interest that I felt
about a dame so old and so singular,
and a maiden so young and so beautiful,
was chastened by something like awe.
They walked or rather tottered forward
to the brink of the mound-before them
the remains of an old oak wood, blanch-
ed and blasted, and lifeless with ex-
treme age, covered by the aid of dwarf-
holly, sparkling with moist leafs and
ruddy berries, the slope on the opposite
side, and beneath their feet the stream
toiled among rocks and roots of trees,
diving into profound linns, and then
emerging, wheeling and undulating, and
whitened with foam. The sun, cloud-
less and clear, had now arisen fully
over the eastern slope, and its beams
slanted across the flood, fell along the
sward, at the feet of the old beldame
and the lovely and melancholy creature
that accompanied her. On the running
stream and then on the risen sun the old
woman looked-and on them her com-
panion looked too-but with an uuset-
tled and bewildered glance, that did
not seem to associate living thing with
the inanimate but beautiful scene before
her. But Janet Morison's mind was
busy with other days, she spoke or
rather thought aloud--for her speech
was addressed to no living thing.
Stately and green in your bonny bon-
ny ranks-green wi' yere simmer livery
were ye whan I first saw this lanesome
glen-where the Morisons hae been
Morisons longer than tongue can count
-the black blood raven and the hood-

ed gore-crow sang amang yere branches when I first pou'd the witch-gowan and the hollow hemlock. Sair, sair altered are we since we first became acquaint-leafless is the tane and lockless is the tither-my hooded craws and my poor ravens have alane remained-and the young lord-black and bloody will be his cast-shot the tane on the top of the auld tree, three mornings syne-and its lyart marrow has flown away far, far, and will never see cummer who fed her so kindly again."

me-I have weeded ye away one by one-thou alone remain'st-and may remain for me-I might as well shoot at the blessed sun with the hope of mar ring its shining.' And curse the evil be ng that shot my bonny black raven and her bonny brood," said Janet Morrison, shaking her withered hand at the object of her wrath For this, and for sins deep and dark-that winna do to be named in sunshine-have thy days been numbered-listen the amount

-the last of three simmer suns shall see the limit of thy life-a brief space for a face so young-nor shall it be spent-wi' filling the grave with the ruins of thy last-woes me !--but in sorrow that knows no mirth-in tears many and bitter-not tears of repentance.' The person this remarkable woman addressed was the last child of a far descended and renowned race-of noble blood and lordly inheritances-→ but early left to his own will, he surren→ dered himself to the indulgence of guilty passions, and ere his twentieth year, he fled to a foreign land-leaving ruined maids and weeping mothers in his native country-whose cries were not heard in vain. Towards the old woman he gazed with a look, not of scorn or contempt, but of terror and affrighthe stept several paces back, like one afraid to be seen or heard, and dropping his carbine, held both hands before his face, as if to screen his eyes from some sudden and offensive light.

"Even as old Janet lamented, the rustling of wings was heard, and presently up the deep gorge of the glen sailing slowly along on the bosom of the water, came a large raven-The crown of its head was bald from extreme age-its back was as hoary as if it had been sprinkled with meal-its bosom and wings alone retained their original hue. When this faithful old bird came beneath the mound where we stood, it arose perpendicularly into the air, and seating itself on the topmost stem of a withered oak, turned its head to the cottage, and gave one low croak of recognizance. And yere there, my black and my bonny bird,' said the old woman-' come marrowless back to your leafless tree and your sorrowing mistress. While she uttered these words, a hunter emerged at once from the bowers of holly, and, presenting his carbine as he appeared, fired at the old and solitary raven. The raven uttered, as the shot struck it-not a croak, but Saints and souls of men,' he muttered something between a croak and a moan, in a voice choking with emotion,' It is and spreading its wings, away it soared HER! It is HER! I shall trust the perpendicularly into the sky-lessening kirk-yard turf no longer-hell and to the eye every moment of its rapid heaven fail to hold what we give them flight. The hunter stept to the summit it is HER, as sure as light itself.'-He of a little hillock, and stood gazing up- seemed willing to fly-his feet refused wards at the wounded bird, unconscious to move-his knees were shaking with of our presence. He was a tall, hand- agony, and the colour was chased from some, and rather slender, youth, with his cheek by some fearful sight, which bold martial features, and a careless and it was not my fortune to behold. At gay and dissipated air. He wore a this moment the wounded raven, that bonnet with a black feather, and a low- had soared wholly out of sight, fell at land mantle of the finest texture, fasten- the foot of the old woman, its head ed on his left shoulder by a broach of stretched out, its wings expanded, and pure gold. Curse the evil bird,' ex- all its feathers agitated with the shiverclaimed the youth-much good pow- ings of death. der thee and thy blasted brood has cost

-

"I lifted the poor bird, and it was