pute, as it is obviously another question. Cleffel likewise refers to Bartholinus for proofs of their authenticity; but the testimony of that antiquary just quoted, is the only mention of the Kæmpe Viser I can discover in his work. Of variations from known copies of romantic ballads, and fragments of others which I have received, the few subjoined stanzas are all that appeared to me worth preserving. To the well-known ballad of Johnnie of Braidislee, which it seems doubtful whether we should place among our romantic or historical poems, I am enabled to add one stanza, which seems, to me, to describe expressively the languor of approaching death: There's no a bird in a' this föreste Will do as meikle for me, Another romantic ballad, of which unfortu nately one stanza only has been preserved, is the more deserving of mention from its singular agreement with a superstition, recorded by Schott in his Physica Curiosa, and quoted by Mr Scott. The tradition bears, that a young lady was carried away by the Fairies; and that, although invisible to her friends who were in search of her, she was sometimes heard by them lamenting her destiny in a pathetic song, of which the stanza just mentioned runs nearly thus: O, Alva hills is bonny, Dalycoutry hills is fair, But to think on the braes of Menstrie, There is another fragment still remaining, which appears to have belonged to a ballad of adventure, perhaps of real history. I am acquainted with no poem of which the lines, as they stand, can be supposed to have formed a part: * See Minstrelsy, II. 188. 2d edit. 3 Saddled, and briddled, And booted rade he; But never cam he. Down cam his auld mither, Greetin fu' sair; And down cam his bonny wife Saddled, and briddled, And booted rade he; Toom hame cam the saddle, Our regret for the loss of so large a propor tion of our national poetry as has already perished, is increased by the interest we still feel in some of its most mutilated remains. Yet, after all that has been lost, and all that is now secured to posterity, it is probable, that much is still uncollected, which is within the reach of preservation; and there is a strong inducement to publish even such imperfect fragments as these, in the chance that their circulation may lead to further researches, and some of the entire ballads yet be recovered. It might even justify the publication of many indifferent ballads, and fragments of ballads, that they might lead to the preservation of stanzas of merit which belong to them, which are still floating in tradition, and must be lost, because there is pothing with which they can be connected. A very few years will carry into oblivion all that yet remains among the peasantry of our old hereditary song; for it is almost exclusively from the recitation of very old people, that the lately recovered pieces have been obtained. If any means could collect the scattered reliques of the legendary poetry of our ancestors, Scotland might yet perhaps furnish the materials of more than one national work, of as high interest as the Minstrelsy of the Border;-a work for which its editor, I believe, will wish no greater eulogy, than the rude verse of one of our old and barbarous poets: Non Scotus est, Christe, cui liber non placet iste. HARDYKNUTE. INTRODUCTION. THE author of this celebrated ballad was Lady Wardlaw, second daughter of Sir Charles Halket, of Pitferran. She was born in 1677; and in 1696 was married to Sir Henry Wardlaw of Balmulie, or Pitrivie, in Fifeshire. She died about the year 1727. It is difficult which most to admire, the mind capable of producing such a poem, o the modesty of sending it into the world anonymously. It must be remembered, too, that Hardyknute" was composed at a period unusually dark in the literary history of Scot A |