REVIEWS — THE BALLADS OP SCOTLAND. 307 



Scottish Minstrels, especially of tlie reign of James IV., are given in 

 the Introduction, from the researches of Mr. Joseph Eobertson in the 

 books of the Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, including references 

 to " Blind Harry," and many others now forgotten. " I doubt," adds 

 the editor, "whether the Court of good King Rene of Provence was 

 more minstrel-haunted than that of James IV. of Scotland." But 

 we must find room for one or two of our old familiar favourites of 

 which we never tire ; and here is the authenticated antique version 

 of one of the most touching of Scottish ballads, and one which has 

 been repeatedly imitated, but never so successfully as to equal the 

 touching and simply natural pathos of the original. The story is still 

 preserved among the local traditions of Dumfrieshire, where the graves 

 of Helen and her lover are pointed out. During one of their inter- 

 views on. the banks of the river Kirtle, a rejected suitor, whose 

 addresses were favoured by the lady's friends, suddenly appeared on 

 the opposite bank of the stream, and, in his jealous rage, levelled his 

 carabine at the breast of his rival. Helen, throwing herself before 

 her lover, received the bullet in her bosom and died in his arms. A 

 desperate combat immediately ensued, which only terminated by the 

 fail of the murderer, who was cut to pieces by his maddened foe. 

 The lover's moan was thus pathetically rendered by some true but 

 nameless old minstrel, and tradition has been faithful to the trust: — - 



HELEN OF KIRKCONKELL. 



1 wish I were where Helea lies ! 

 Night and day on me she cries ; 

 that I were where Helen lies, 

 On fair Kirkeonnell lee ! 



Curst be the heart that thought the thought, 

 And curst the hand that fired the shot, 

 When in my arms burd Helen dropt, 

 And died to succour me ! 



O think ye na my heart was sair, 

 "When my love dropt down and spake nae mair ! 

 There did she swoon wi' meikle care, 

 On fair Kirkconnell lee. 



As I went down the water side, 

 None but my foe to be my guide, 

 None but my foe to be my guide, 

 On fair Kirkconnell lee— 



