LITMIR.BIZ

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Sae loud I hear ye lie;

       For Percy had not men yestreen,

       To dight my men and me.

      “But I have dream’d a dreary dream,

       Beyond the Isle of Sky;

       I saw a dead man win a fight,

       And I think that man was I.”

      He belted on his guid braid sword,

       And to the field he ran;

       But he forgot the helmet good,

       That should have kept his brain.

      When Percy wi the Douglas met,

       I wat he was fu fain!

       They swakked their swords, till sair they swat,

       And the blood ran down like rain.

      But Percy with his good broad sword,

       That could so sharply wound,

       Has wounded Douglas on the brow,

       Till he fell to the ground.

      Then he calld on his little foot-page,

       And said—“Run speedilie,

       And fetch my ain dear sister’s son,

       Sir Hugh Montgomery.

      “My nephew good,” the Douglas said,

       “What recks the death of ane!

       Last night I dreamd a dreary dream,

       And I ken the day’s thy ain.

      “My wound is deep; I fain would sleep;

       Take thou the vanguard of the three,

       And hide me by the braken bush,

       That grows on yonder lilye lee.

      “O bury me by the braken-bush,

       Beneath the blooming brier;

       Let never living mortal ken

       That ere a kindly Scot lies here.”

      He lifted up that noble lord,

       Wi the saut tear in his e’e;

       He hid him in the braken bush,

       That his merrie men might not see.

      The moon was clear, the day drew near,

       The spears in flinders flew,

       But mony a gallant Englishman

       Ere day the Scotsmen slew.

      The Gordons good, in English blood,

       They steepd their hose and shoon;

       The Lindesays flew like fire about,

       Till all the fray was done.

      The Percy and Montgomery met,

       That either of other were fain;

       They swapped swords, and they twa swat,

       And aye the blood ran down between.

      “Yield thee, now yield thee, Percy,” he said,

       “Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low!”

       “To whom must I yield,” quoth Earl Percy,

       “Now that I see it must be so?”

      “Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun,

       Nor yet shalt thou yield to me;

       But yield thee to the braken-bush,

       That grows upon yon lilye lee!”

      “I will not yield to a braken-bush,

       Nor yet will I yield to a brier;

       But I would yield to Earl Douglas,

       Or Sir Hugh the Montgomery, if he were here.”

      As soon as he knew it was Montgomery,

       He stuck his sword’s point in the gronde;

       The Montgomery was a courteous knight,

       And quickly took him by the honde.

      This deed was done at Otterbourne,

       About the breaking of the day;

       Earl Douglas was buried at the braken bush,

       And the Percy led captive away.

TAM LIN

       Table of Contents

      (Child, Part II., p. 340, Burns’s Version.)

      O I forbid you, maidens a’,

       That wear gowd on your hair,

       To come or gae by Carterhaugh,

       For young Tam Lin is there.

      There’s nane that gaes by Carterhaugh

       But they leave him a wad,

       Either their rings, or green mantles,

       Or else their maidenhead.

      Janet has kilted her green kirtle

       A little aboon her knee,

       And she has braided her yellow hair

       A little aboon her bree,

       And she’s awa’ to Carterhaugh,

       As fast as she can hie.

      When she came to Carterhaugh

       Tam Lin was at the well,

       And there she fand his steed standing,

       But away was himsel.

      She had na pu’d a double rose,

       A rose but only twa,

       Till up then started young Tam Lin,

       Says, “Lady, thou’s pu nae mae.

      “Why pu’s thou the rose, Janet,

       And why breaks thou the wand?

       Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh

       Withoutten my command?”

      “Carterhaugh, it is my ain,

       My daddie gave it me;

       I’ll come and gang by Carterhaugh,

       And ask nae leave at thee.”

      * * * * *

      Janet has kilted her green kirtle

       A little aboon her knee,

       And she has snooded her yellow hair

       A little aboon her bree,

       And she is to her father’s ha,

       As fast as she can hie.

      Four and twenty ladies fair

       Were playing at the ba,

       And out then cam the fair Janet,

       Ance the flower amang them a’.

      Four and twenty ladies fair

       Were playing at the chess,

       And out then cam the fair Janet,

       As green as onie grass.

      Out then spak an auld grey knight,

       Lay oer the castle wa,

       And says, “Alas, fair Janet, for thee

       But we’ll be blamed a’.”

      “Haud your tongue, ye auld-fac’d knight,

       Some ill death may ye die!

       Father my bairn on whom I will,

       I’ll

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