Thomas
Rymer
1 TRUE
THOMAS lay oer yond grassy bank,
And
he beheld a ladie gay,
A
ladie that was brisk and bold,
Come
riding oer the fernie brae.
2 Her
skirt was of the grass-green silk,
Her
mantel of the velvet fine,
At
ilka tett of her horse’s mane
Hung
fifty silver bells and nine.
3 True
Thomas he took off his hat,
And
bowed him low down till his knee:
‘All
hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven!
For
your peer on earth I never did see.’
4 ‘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’m come here for to visit thee.
* * * * *
5 ‘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.’
6 She
turned about her milk-white steed,
And
took True Thomas up behind,
And
aye wheneer her bridle rang,
The
steed flew swifter than the wind.
7 For
forty days and forty nights
He
wade thro red blude to the knee,
And
he saw neither sun nor moon,
But
heard the roaring of the sea.
8 O
they rade on, and further on,
Until
they came to a garden green:
‘Light
down, light down, ye ladie free,
Some
of that fruit let me pull to thee.’
9 ‘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.
10 ‘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.’
11 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 fairlies three.
12 ‘O
see not ye yon narrow road,
So
thick beset wi thorns and briers?
That is the path of righteousness,
Tho
after it but few enquires.
13 ‘And
see not ye that braid braid road,
That
lies across yon lillie leven?
That
is the path of wickedness,
Tho
some call it the road to heaven.
14 ‘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.
15 ‘But
Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue,
Whatever
you may hear or see,
For
gin ae word you should chance to speak,
You
will neer get back to your ain countrie.’
16 He
has gotten a coat of the even cloth,
And a
pair of shoes of velvet green,
And
till seven years were past and gone
True
Thomas on earth was never seen.
Source
of the text - English
and Scottish Popular Ballads, edited
from the collection of Francis James Child by Helen Child Sargent and George
Lyman Kittredge. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1904, pp. 63-65.
TJB: Elf
road trip. The queen of elfland explains it all to us—spend seven years in Faerie
& all we hear about is bad fruit and a picnic speech.
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