And on they rode for the water o' Tyne. At the Choler-ford they a' light down, And there, wi' the help o' the light o' the moon, A tree they cut, wi' fifteen nags upo' ilk side, To climb up the wa' o' Newcastle town. But when they came to Newcastle town, And were alighted at the wa', They found their tree three ells o'er laigh, They found their stick baith short and sma. Then up and spake the Laird's ain Jock, "There's naething for't, the gates we maun force;" But when they came the gates unto, A proud porter withstood baith men and horse. (_weir_, war. _branks_, rope bridles. _brecham_, collar. _tree_, pole. _nags_, notches. _laigh_, low.) His neck in twa I wot they hae wrung, Wi' hand or foot he ne'er play'd paw; His life and his keys at ance they hae tane, And cast his body ahind the wa'. Now soon they reach Newcastle jail, And to the pris ner thus they call; "Sleeps thou, wakes thou, Jock o' the side, Or is thou wearied o' thy thrall?" Jock answers thus, wi' dolefu' tone-- "Aft, aft I wake--I seldom sleep: But wha's this kens my name sae weel, And thus to hear my waes does seek?" Then up spake the good Lairds Jock, "Neer fear ye now, my billy," quo' he; "For here's the Laird's Jock, the Laird's Wat, And Hobie Noble, come to set thee free." "O hald thy tongue, and speak nae mair, And o' thy talk now let me be; For if a' Liddisdale were here the night, The morn's the day that I maun die. "Full fifteen stane o' Spanish iron, They hae laid a' right sair on me; Wi' locks and keys I am fast bound Into this dungeon mirk and dreary." (_ne'er played paw_, never stirred.) "Fear ye no that," quo' the Laird's Jock -, "A faint heart ne'er won a fair lady; Work thou within, well work without, And I'll be bound we set thee free." The first strong door that they came at, They loosed it without a key; The next chained door that they came at, They gar'd it a' in flinders flee. The pris'ner now, upo' his back, The Laird's Jock's gotten up fu' high; And down the stair, him, irons and a', Wi' nae sma' speed and joy brings he. "Now, Jock, I wot," quo' Hobie Noble, "Part o' the weight ye may lay on me;" "I wot weel no!" quo' the Laird's Jock, "I count him lighter than a flea." Sae out at the gates they a' are gane, The pris'ner's set on horseback high; And now wi' speed they've tane the gate, While ilk ane jokes fu' wantonly. "O Jock, sae winsomely's ye ride, Wi' baith your feet upo' ae side! Sae weel's ye're harness'd, and sae trig, In troth, ye sit like ony bride!" (_gar'd_, made. _flinders_, splinters. _trig_, trim.) The night, thou wot, they didna mind, But hied them on fu' merrily, Until they came to Choler-ford brae, Where the water ran like mountains high. But when they came to Choler-ford,