Three old hills and a stolen soul

I went for a walk out of Melrose today. Climbed up through Rhymer's Glen, which namechecks Thomas the Rhymer, local 14th century poet, and subject of the medieval poem which re-tells a much older, possibly Celtic story, of a man who is enchanted by the Queen of Elfland, and stolen away by her to the otherworld. Then over the three Eildon Hills, with fine views across the green Tweed valley. Some versions of the Rhymer story say that the crack between our world and Elfland lay below these hills, but they've been the seat of magic and power for much longer - back through Roman times and the Bronze age and maybe even further. The sun shone and the wind blew, and I walked back down on muddy St Cuthbert's Way into Melrose, and drove home just as the rain started again.