The Queen Of Elfan's Nourice

The Text.--As printed in Sharpe's Ballad Book, from the Skene MS. (No. 8). It is fragmentary--regrettably so, especially as stanzas 10-12 belong to Thomas Rymer.


The Story is the well-known one of the abduction of a young mother to be the Queen of Elfland's nurse. Fairies, elves, water-sprites, and nisses or brownies, have constantly required mortal assistance in the nursing of fairy children. Gervase of Tilbury himself saw a woman stolen away for this purpose, as she was washing clothes in the Rhone.

The genuineness of this ballad, deficient as it is, is best proved by its lyrical nature, which, as Child says, 'forces you to chant, and will not be read.'

'Elfan,' of course, is Elfland; 'nourice,' a nurse.


THE QUEEN OF ELFAN'S NOURICE

    1.
    'I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
        An' a cow low down in yon glen;
    Lang, lang, will my young son greet
        Or his mother bid him come ben.

    2.
    'I heard a cow low, a bonnie cow low,
        An' a cow low down in yon fauld;
    Lang, lang will my young son greet
        Or his mither take him frae cauld.

        ***    ***    ***

    3.
    ' ...    ...    ...
        ...    ...    ...
    Waken, Queen of Elfan,
        An' hear your nourice moan.'

    4.
    'O moan ye for your meat,
        Or moan ye for your fee,
    Or moan ye for the ither bounties
        That ladies are wont to gie?'

    5.
    'I moan na for my meat,
        Nor moan I for my fee,
    Nor moan I for the ither bounties
        That ladies are wont to gie.

    6.
    ' ...    ...    ...
        ...    ...    ...
    But I moan for my young son
        I left in four nights auld.

    7.
    'I moan na for my meat,
        Nor yet for my fee,
    But I mourn for Christen land,
        It's there I fain would be.'

    8.
    'O nurse my bairn, nourice,' she says,
        'Till he stan' at your knee,
    An' ye's win hame to Christen land,
        Whar fain it's ye wad be.

    9.
    'O keep my bairn, nourice,
        Till he gang by the hauld,
    An' ye's win hame to your young son
        Ye left in four nights auld.'

        ***    ***    ***

    10.
    'O nourice lay your head
        Upo' my knee:
    See ye na that narrow road
        Up by yon tree?

    11.
        ...    ...    ...
        ...    ...    ...
    That's the road the righteous goes,
        And that's the road to heaven.

    12.
    'An' see na ye that braid road,
        Down by yon sunny fell?
    Yon's the road the wicked gae,
        An' that's the road to hell.'

Frank Sidgwick

Frank Sidgwick was an English writer, publisher, and scholarly editor. He was instrumental in popularizing ballad and folklore studies in the early 20th century. Sidgwick co-founded the publishing company Sidgwick & Jackson, which became known for its contributions to literature and scholarship. Though not primarily known as a poet, his editorial and publishing efforts significantly impacted the literary culture of his time, emphasizing the academic study of traditional songs and verses.

Frank Sidgwick

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Frank Sidgwick, Simple Poetry

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English

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The Fause Knight Upon The Road
The Text is taken from the Introduction to Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. lxxiv.

The Story appears to be a conversation between a wee boy and the devil, the latter under the guise of a knight. The boy will be carried off unless he can 'have the last word,' a charm of great power against all evil spirits.

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THE FAUSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD

1.
'O whare are ye gaun?'
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2.
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The Twa Sisters O' Binnorie
Texts.--The version here given is compounded from two different sources, almost of necessity. Stanzas 1-19 were given by Scott, compounded from W. Tytler's Brown MS. and the recitation of an old woman. But at stanza 20 Scott's version becomes eccentric, and he prints such verses as:--

'A famous harper passing by
The sweet pale face he chanced to spy ...

The strings he framed of her yellow hair,
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Clerk Colven
The Text.--This ballad was one of two transcribed from the now lost Tytler-Brown MS., and the transcript is given here. A considerable portion of the story is lost between stanzas 6 and 7.

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The Laird Of Knottington
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