Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/427

 'Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird shall never daunten me.' Syne he has kiss'd her rosy lips, All underneath the Eildon Tree.

'Now ye maun go wi' me,' she said, 'True Thomas, ye maun go wi' me; And ye maun serve me seven years, Thro' weal or woe as may chance to be.'

She's mounted on her milk-white steed, She's ta'en true Thomas up behind; And aye, whene'er her bridle rang, The steed gaed swifter than the wind.

O they rade on, and farther on, The steed gaed swifter than the wind; Until they reach'd a desert wide, And living land was left behind.

'Light down, light down now, true Thomas, 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 wi' thorns and briers? That is the Path of Righteousness, Though 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, Though some call it the Road to Heaven.

leven] ? lawn.