There they met with an auld man; Says--"Honest man, will the water ride? Tell us in haste, if that ye can." "I wot weel no," quo' the good old man; "Here I hae lived this thirty years and three, And I ne'er yet saw the Tyne sae big, Nor rinnin' ance sae like a sea." Then up and spake the Laird's saft Wat, The greatest coward in the company-- "Now halt, now halt, we needna try't; The day is com'd we a' maun die!" "Poor faint-hearted thief!" quo' the Laird's ain Jock, "There'll nae man die but he that's fie; I'll lead ye a' right safely through; Lift ye the pris'ner on ahint me." Sae now the water they a' hae tane, By anes and twas they a' swam through; "Here are we a' safe," says the Laird's Jock, "And, poor faint Wat, what think ye now?" (_fie_, predestined.) They scarce the ither side had won, When twenty men they saw pursue; Frae Newcastle town they had been sent, A' English lads, right good and true. But when the land-sergeant the water saw, "It winna ride, my lads," quo' he; Then out he cries--"Ye the pris'ner may take, But leave the irons, I pray, to me." "I wot weel no," cry'd the Lairds Jock, "I'll keep them a'; shoon to my mare they'll be: My good grey mare--for I am sure, She's bought them a fu' dear frae thee." Sae now they're away for Liddisdale, E'en as fast as they could them hie; The pris'ner's brought to his ain fire-side, And there o's airns they make him free. "Now, Jock, my billy," quo' a' the three, "The day was com'd thou was to die; But thou's as weel at thy ain fire-side, Now sitting, I think, 'tween thee and me." They hae gar'd fill up ae punch-bowl, And after it they maun hae anither, And thus the night they a' hae spent, Just as they had been brither and brither. (_airns,_ irons.) THERE WAS A MAID CAME OUT OF KENT |There was a maid came out of Kent, Dainty love, dainty love; There was a maid came out of Kent, Dangerous be: There was a maid came out of Kent, Fair, proper, small and gent, As ever upon the ground went, For so it should be. The Fire of Frendraught The reek it rose, and the flame it flew, And oh the fire augmented high, Until it came to Lord John's chamber-window And to the bed where Lord John lay. "O help me, help me, Lady Frennet! I never ettled harm to thee; And if my father slew thy lord, Forget the deed and rescue me." (_reek_, smoke. _ettled_, designed.) He looked east, he looked west, To see if any help was nigh; At length his little page he saw, Who to his lord aloud did cry. "Loup down, loup down, my master dear! What though the window's dreigh and high? I'll catch you in my arms twa, And never a foot from you I'll flee." "How can I loup, you little page, How can I leave this window high? Do you not see the blazing low,