Nor quit my den for the fear o' thee, Till Kempion, the kingis son, Come to the crag an' thrice kiss me." He's louted him o'er the lofty crag, And he has gi'en her kisses three; In she swang, a loathly worm; An' out she stepped, a fair ladye. Nae cleeding had this lady fair, To keep her body frae the cold; But Kempion took his mantle aff, And around his ain true love did fold. "An' by my sooth," says Kempion, "My ain true love!--for this is she,-- They surely had a heart o' stane, Could put thee to this misery. "O was it wer-wolf in the wood, Or was it mermaid in the sea, Or wicked man, or wile woman, My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee?" "It was na wer-wolf in the wood, Nor was it mermaid in the sea; But it was my wicked stepmither, And wae and weary may she be!" "O a heavier weird light her upon Than ever fell on wile woman! Her hair sall grow rough, an' her teeth grow lang, An' aye upon four feet maun she gang." * * * * * ALISON GROSS. O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tower, The ugliest witch in the north countrie, Has trysted me ae day up till her bower, And mony fair speech she made to me. She straiked my head, and she kaim'd my hair, And she set me down saftly on her knee; Says, "Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, Sae mony braw things as I wad you gie." She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlet, Wi' gowden flowers and fringes fine;