gentle an' rosemaree," "Down, a down, a down, a down," have ancient secrets in them, had we ears to hear. One of the vexed questions of criticism regarding these refrains is whether they were rendered in alternation with the narrative verses or as a continuous under-song. Early observers of Indian dances have noted that, while one leaping savage after another improvised a simple strain or two, the whole dancing company kept up a guttural cadence of "Heh, heh, heh!" or "Aw, aw, aw!" which served the office of musical accompaniment. This choral iteration of rhythmic syllables, still hinted in the refrain, but only hinted, is believed to be the original element of poetry. In course of time, however, was evolved the individual singer. In the earlier stages of society, song was undoubtedly a common gift, and every normal member of the community bore his part in the recital of the heroic deeds that ordinarily formed the subject of these primeval lays. Were it the praise of a god, of a feasting champion, or of a slain comrade, the natural utterance was narrative. Later on, the more fluent and inventive improvisers came to the front, and finally the professional bard appeared. Somewhere in the process, too, the burden may have shifted its part from under-song to alternating chorus, thus allowing the soloist opportunity for rest and recollection. English ballads, as we have them in print to-day, took form in a far later and more sophisticated period than those just suggested; yet even thus our ballads stand nearest of anything in our literature to the primitive poetry that was born out of the social life of the community rather than made by the solitary thought of the artist. Even so comparatively small a group as that comprehended within this volume shows how truly the ballad is the parent stock of all other poetic varieties. In the ballad of plain narrative, as _The Hunting of the Cheviot,_ the epic is hinted. We go a step further in _A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode,_--too long for insertion in this collection, but peculiarly interesting from the antiquarian point of view, having been printed, in part, as early as 1489,--and find at least a rough foundation for a genuine hero-lay, the _Lytell Geste_ being made up of a number of ballads rudely woven into one. A poem like this, though hardly "an epic in miniature,"--a phrase which has been proposed as the definition of a ballad,--is truly an epic in germ, lacking the finish of a miniature, but holding the promise of a seed. Where the narrative is highly colored by emotion, as in _Helen of Kirconnell_ or _Waly Waly,_ the ballad merges into the lyric. It is difficult here to draw the line of distinction. _A Lyke-Wake Dirge_ is almost purely lyric in quality, while _The Lawlands o' Holland, Gilderoy, The Twa Corbies, Bonny Barbara Allan,_ have each a pronounced lyric element. From the ballad of dialogue we look forward to the drama, not only from the ballad of pure dialogue, as _Lord Ronald,_ or _Edward, Edward,_ or that sweet old English folk-song, too long for insertion here, _The Not-Browne Mayd,_ but more remotely from the ballad of mingled dialogue and narrative, as _The Gardener or Fine Flowers i'