SWEET WILLIE'S KEWARD. 207 



And lo ! while his life the miscreant ends, 

 On a column of smoke what fiend ascends ? 

 'Tis the Witch, who in curses vents her ire, 

 As scorch'd she flies from the raging fire. 



All view'd the Witch in strange surprise, 

 But what she was could none devise, 

 Till St. Andrew's Day had come and flown, 

 Then made sweet Willie the secret known. 



And he told, how thrice he had managed to save 

 His Lord, when he stood on the brink of the Grave ; 

 And he told how his Lord had paid him with blows 

 For snatching his life from deadly foes. 



Lord Atholl, he gave sweet Willie his hand, 

 And he gave him gold, and he gave him land, 

 And he gave him a wife, who was fit to be queen, 

 'Twas his lovely daughter Gallantine. 



Now if lords and if ladies are curious to know 

 What became of the witch when she left 13cn-y-gloc, 

 'Tis right to inform them, for fear of mistakes, 

 That home she went, and finish'd her snakes. 



