THOMAS THE RHYMER



True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank

A fairy he spied with his e'e

And there he saw a lady bright

Come riding down by the Eildon Tree



Her skirt was of the grass green silk

Her mantle of the velvet fine

At each tett of her horse's mane

Hung fifty silver bells and nine



True Thomas, he pulled off his cap

And bowed low down to his knee

All hail, thou mighty Queen of Heaven

For thy peer on earth I never did see



Oh no, oh no, Thomas, she said

That name does not belong to me

I am but the Queen of fair Elfland

That am hither come to visit thee



Harp and carp, Thomas, she said

Harp and carp along with me

And if you dare to kiss my lips

Sure of your body I will be



Betide me well, betide me woe

That weird shall never daunton me

Syne he has kissed her rosy lips

All underneath the Eildon Tree



Now, ye maun go with me, she said

True Thomas, ye maun go with me

And ye maun serve me seven years

Though weal and woe, as may chance to be



She mounted on her milk white steed

She's taken True Thomas up behind

And aye whenever her bridle rang

The steed flew swifter than the wind



Oh they rode on, and further on

The steed gaed swifter than the wind

Until they reached a desert wide

And living land was left behind



Light down, light down now, true Thomas

And lean you head upon my knee

Abide and rest a little space

And I will show you ferlies three



Oh, see you not yon narrow road

So thick beset with thorn and briars

That is the path of righteousness

Though after it but few enquire



And see you not that broad, broad road

That lies across that lily leven

That is the path of wickedness

Though some call it the road to Heaven



And see you not that bonnie road

That winds about the fernie brae

That is the road to fair Elfland

Where thou and I this night maun gae



But Thomas, you must hold your tongue

Whatever you may hear or see

For if you speak word in Elfin land

You'll ne'er get back to you ain country



Then they came on to a garden green

And she pulled an apple frae a tree

Take this for thy wages, True Thomas

It will give the tongue that can never lie



My tongue is my own, True Thomas said

A goodly gift you would give to me

I neither dought to buy or sell

At fair or tryst where I may be



I dought neither speak to prince nor peer

Nor ask of grace from fair lady

Now hold thy peace, the lady said

For as I say, so it must be



He has gotten a coat of the even cloth

And a pair of shoes of velvet green

And till seven years were gone and past

True Thomas on earth was never seen



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Child #37

Collected by Child and Scott

@ballad @myth @magic

filename[ TOMRHYM

SF

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