This exquisitely touching ballad we take from the "Songs of Scotland, Ancient and Modern," edited by Allan Cunningham. He says, "It is seldom indeed, that song has chosen so singular a theme; but the superstition it involves is current in Scotland."

The ladie walk'd in yon wild wood,
Aneath the hollow tree,
And she was aware of twa bonnie bairns
Were running at her knee.
The tane it pulled a red, red rose,
Wi' a hand as soft as silk;
The other, it pull'd a lily pale,
With a hand mair white than milk.
"Now, why pull ye the red rose, fair bairns?
And why the white lily?"
"Oh, we sue wi' them at the seat of grace,
For soul of thee, ladie!"
"Oh, bide wi' me, my twa bonnie bairns!
I'll cleid ye rich and fine;
And a' for the blaeberries of the wood,
Yese hae white bread and wine."
She sought to take a lily hand,
And kiss a rosie chin—
"O, naught sae pure can bide the touch
Of a hand red—wet wi' sin"!
The stars were shooting to and fro,
And wild-fire filled the air,
As that ladie follow'd thae bonnie bairns
For three lang hours and mair.
"Oh, where dwell ye, my ain sweet bairns?
I'm woe and weary grown!"
"Oh, ladie, we live where woe never is,
In a land to flesh unknown."
There came a shape which seem'd to her
As a rainbow 'mang the rain;
And sair these sweet babes plead for her,
And they pled and pled in vain.
"And O! and O!" said the youngest babe,
"My mither maun come in;"
"And O! and O!" said the eldest babe,
"Wash her twa hands frae sin."
"And O! and O!" said the youngest babe,
"She nursed me on her knee."
"And O! and O!" said the eldest babe,
"She's a mither yet to me."
"And O! and O!" said the babes baith,
"Take her where waters rin,
And white as the milk of her white breast,
Wash her twa hands frae sin."

Original.