"Is that your Queen, my Lord,” she said, "That auld and buirdly dame?

I see the crown upon her heid;

But I dinna ken her name."

And she has kissed the Frenchman's Queen,
And eke her daughters three,

And gi'en her hand to the young Princess,
That louted upon the knee.

And she has gane to the proud castle,

That's biggit beside the sea:

But aye, when she thought o' the bairns at hame, The tear was in her e'e.

She gied the King the Cheshire cheese,
But and the porter fine;

And he gied her the puddock-pies,

But and the blude-red wine.

Then up and spak the dourest prince,
An admiral was he;

"Let's keep the Queen o' England here,
Sin' better may na be!

“O mony is the dainty king That we hae trappit here;

And mony is the English yerl

That's in our dungeons drear!"

"You lee, you lee, ye graceless loon,

Sae loud's I hear

There never yet was Englishman,

That came to skaith by me.

"Gae out, gae out, ye fause traitor!

Gae out until the street;

It's shame, that Kings and Queens should sit

Wi' sic a knave at meat!"

French lord,

In wrath and hie disdain

"O ye may sit, and ye may eat

Your puddock-pies alane!

"But were I in my ain gude ship,
And sailing wi' the wind,
And did I meet wi' auld Napier,
I'd tell him o' my mind."

O then the Queen leuch loud and lang,
And her colour went and came;

፡፡ Gin ye met wi' Charlie on the sea,
Ye'd wish yersell at hame!"

And aye they birlit at the wine,
And drank right merrilie,

Till the auld cock crawed in the castle-yard,
And the abbey bell struck three.

The Queen she gaed until her bed, And Prince Albert likewise; And the last word that gay ladye said Was-"O thae puddock-pies!"

PART II.

The sun was hie within the lift

And

Afore the French King raise;

syne he louped until his sark, And warslit on his claes.

"Gae up, gae up, my little foot-page, Gae up until the toun;

And gin ye meet wi' the auld harper, Be sure ye bring him doun."

And he has met wi' the auld harper ;
O but his een were red;
And the bizzing o' a swarm o' bees
Was singing in his heid.

"Alack! alack!" the harper said,

"That this should e'er hae been !

I daurna gang before my liege,
For I was fou yestreen."

"It's ye maun come, ye auld harper,

Ye daurna tarry lang ;
The King is just dementit-like
For wanting o' a sang."

And when he came to the King's chamber,

He loutit on his knee,

"O what may be your gracious will Wï' an auld, frail man like me?”

"I want a sang, harper," he said,

"I want a sang richt speedilie; And gin ye dinna make a sang,

I'll hang ye up on the gallows tree."

"I canna do't, my liege," he said,
"Hae mercy on my auld gray hair!
But gin that I had got the words,

I think that I might mak the air.”

"And wha's to mak the words, fause loon,

When minstrels we have barely twa;

And Lamartine is in Paris toun,

And Victor Hugo far awa?"

"The deil may gang for Lamartine, And flie awa wi' auld Hugo,

For a better minstrel than them baith

Within this very toun I know.

"O kens my liege the gude Walter,—

At hame they ca' him BON GAULTIER?He'll rhyme ony day wi' True Thomas,

And he is in the castle here."

And

The French King first he lauchit loud, syne did he begin to sing;"My e'en are auld, and my heart is cauld, Or I suld hae known the minstrels' King.

"Gae take to him this ring o' gowd,

And this mantle o' the silk sae fine,

And bid him mak a maister sang

For his sovereign ladye's sake and mine."

"I winna take the gowden ring,

Nor yet the mantle fine :

But I'll mak the sang for my ladye's sake,

And for a cup of wine.”

The Queen was sitting at the cards,
The King ahint her back;
And aye she dealed the red honours,
And aye she dealed the black;

And syne unto the dourest Prince
She spake richt courteouslie:-
"Now will ye play, Lord Admiral,

Now will ye play wi' me?"