i to TRADITIONAL TALES.
��THE MOTHER'S DREAM.
SHE slept and there was visioned to her eye
A stately mountain, green it seemed, and high ;
She sought to climb it lo ! a river dark
Rolled at its foot ; there came a gallant bark,
And in the bark were forms the eldest fiend
Had shaped to mock God's image ; fierce they leaned
O'er the ship's side, and, seizing her, rushed through
The river wave, which kindled as they flew.
Then to the bank came one and laughed aloud ;
Bright robes he wore, stern was his look and proud :
He stretched his arm, and hailed her for his bride ;
The shuddering waters washed his robe aside,
And showed a shape the fiend's tormenting flame
Had sorely vexed ; she shrieked, and faintness came.
Then shouts she heard, and sound of gladsome song,
And saw a stream of torches flash along.
The feast was spread, the bridal couch prepared,
Dread forms stood round, with naked swords to guard.
Nor looked she long ; one whispered in her ear,
" Come, climb thy bed ; for lo ! the bridegroom's near."
She cried to heaven at once the wedding joy
Was changed to war-shout and to funeral cry ;
Swords in the air, as sunshine, flashed and fell,
Then rose all crimsoned ; loud came groan and yell,
And from the middle tumult started out
A form that seized her : blow, and shriek, and shout
Came thick behind. Down to the Solway flood
Fast was she borne it seemed a sea of blood ;
She felt it touch her knees, and with a scream
She started back, and wakened from her dream.
Legend of Lady Beatrice.
WERE " The Mother's Dream " a traditionary fiction, and its predictions unfulfilled, gladness would be diffused around many hearths, and the tears wiped away from mahy matrons' cheeks. It was related to me by a Dumfriesshire lady : her voice was slow and gentle, and possessed that devotional Scottish melody of expression which gives so much antique richness and grace to speech. Under the shade of a long