Weel may ye ken, Last night I was right scarce o' men: But Toppet Hob o' the Mains had guesten'd in my house by chance; I set him to wear the fore-door wi' the speir, while I kept the back-door wi' the lance; 15 But they hae run him thro' the thick o' the thie, and broke his knee-pan, And the mergh o' his shin-bane has run down on his spur-leather whang: He's lame while he lives, and where'er he may gang. Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' gane. 20 But Peenye, my gude son, is out at the Hagbut-head, His een glittering for anger like a fiery gleed; Crying--"Mak sure the nooks Of Maky's-muir crooks; For the wily Scot takes by nooks, hooks, and crooks. 25 Gin we meet a' together in a head the morn, We'll be merry men." Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' gane. There's doughty Cuddy in the Heugh-head, 30 Thou was aye gude at a need; With thy brock-skin bag at thy belt,[L32] Aye ready to mak a puir man help. Thou maun awa' out to the Cauf-craigs, (Where anes ye lost your ain twa naigs,) 35 And there toom thy brock-skin bag. Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' ta'en. Doughty Dan o' the Houlet Hirst, Thou was aye gude at a birst; 40 Gude wi' a bow, and better wi' a speir, The bauldest March-man that e'er follow'd gear: Come thou here. Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' gane. 45 Rise, ye carle coopers, frae making o' kirns and tubs, In the Nicol forest woods.[L47] Your craft hasna left the value of an oak rod, But if you had ony fear o' God, Last night ye hadna slept sae sound, 50 And let my gear be a' ta'en. Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' ta'en. Ah! lads, we'll fang them a' in a net, For I hae a' the fords o' Liddel set; 55 The Dunkin and the Door-loup, The Willie-ford, and the Water-slack, The Black-rack and the Trout-dub of Liddel. There stands John Forster, wi' five men at his back, Wi bufft coat and cap of steil. 60 Boo! ca' at them e'en, Jock; That ford's sicker, I wat weil. Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a', My gear's a' ta'en.