True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank A ferlie he spied wi' his e'e And there he saw a lady bright Come riding doon by the Eildon tree.
Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk Her mantle o' the velvet fyne At ilka tett o' her horse's mane Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
True Thomas he pulled aff his cap And louted low down on his knee “Hail to thee, Mary Queen o' Heaven For thy peer on earth could never be.”
“Oh no, oh no, Thomas,” she said “That name does not belang 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 alang wi' me And if ye dare to kiss my lips Sure of your body I will be.”
“Betide me weal, and betide me woe That weird shall never daunton me.” Syne he has kissed her rosy lips All underneath the Eildon tree.
“Now ye maun gang wi' me,” she said “True Thomas, ye maun gang wi' me And ye maun serve me seven years Thro' weal or woe, as chance to be.”
She mounted on her milk-white steed And she's ta'en True Thomas up behind And aye whene'er her bridle rang The steed gaed faster than the wind.
O they rode on and farther on The steed gaed swifter than the wind Until they reached a desert wide And living land was left behind.
“Light down, light down, True Thomas,” she said And lean your head upon my knee Abide ye there a little space And I will show you ferlies three.
“O see ye not yon narrow road So thick beset with thorns and briars? That is the path of righteousness Tho' after it but few inquires.
“And see ye not yon braid, braid road That lies across the lily leven? That is the path of wickedness Tho' some ca' it the road to heaven.
“And see ye not yon bonny road That winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland Where thou and I this night maun gae.
“But, Thomas, ye shall haud thy tongue Whatever ye may hear or see For speak ye word in Elfyn land Ye'll ne'er win back to your ain countrie.”
And they fade in and further on And they waded rivers aboun the knee And they saw neither sun nor moon But they heard the roarin' o' the sea.
It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight They waded through red blood to the knee For a' the blood that is shed on the earth Rins through the springs o' that countrie.
Syne they came on to a garden green, And she pu'd an apple frae a tree “Take this for thy wages, True Thomas It will give ye the tongue that can never lie.”
“I dought neither speak to prince or peer Nor ask of grace from fair ladye.” “Now hold thy peace,” the lady said “For as I say, so must it be.”
He has gotten a coat o' the even cloth And a pair of shune o' the velvet green And till seven years were gane and past True Thomas on earth was never seen.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
