And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three, And on his ain sword's point he lap, And dead upon the ground fell he. 'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick, And his brave son alive saw he; "Rise up, rise up, my son," he said, "For I think ye hae gotten the victorie." "O hold your tongue, my father dear, Of your prideful talking let me be! Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace, And let me and my billy be. "Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep, And a grave to hold baith him and me; But lay Christie Græme on the sunny side, For I'm sure he won the victorie." (_moodie-hill_, mole-hill.) "Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried, "Alack! was I not much to blame? I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad That e'er was born unto my name." "Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Græme, "Im sure I hae lost the deeper lack! I durst hae ridden the Border through, Had Christie Græme been at my back. "Had I been led through Liddesdale, And thirty horsemen guarding me, And Christie Græme been at my back, Sae soon as he had set me free! "I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy, I've lost the key but and the lock; I durst hae ridden the world round, Had Christie Græme been at my back." $$THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW |My love he built me a bonny bower, And clad it a wi' lily flower, A brawer bower ye ne er did see Than my true love he built for me. (_lack,_ loss.) There came a man, by middle day, He spied his sport, and went away; And brought the King that very night, Who brake my bower, and slew my knight. He slew my knight, to me sae dear; He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear; My servants all for life did flee, And left me in extremity. I sew'd his sheet, making my mane; I watch'd the corpse, myself alane; I watch'd his body, night and day; No living creature came that way. I took his body on my back, And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat; I digg'd a grave, and laid him in, And happ'd him with the sod sae green. But think na ye my heart was sair, When I laid the mould on his yellow hair; O think na ye my heart was wae, When I turn'd about, away to gae? Nae living man I'll love again, Since that my lovely knight is slain; Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair I'll chain my heart for ever mair. (_poind,_ seized. _happed,_ covered.) FAIR ANNIE [Illustration: 9088] |It's narrow, narrow, make your bed, And learn to lie your lane; For I'm gaun o'er the sea, Fair Annie, A braw bride to bring hame. Wi' her I will get gowd and gear; Wi' you I ne er got nane. "But wha will bake my bridal bread, Or brew my bridal ale? And wha will welcome my brisk bride, That I bring o er the dale?"-- "It's I will bake your bridal bread, And brew your bridal ale; And I will welcome your brisk bride, That you bring oer the dale."-- "But she that welcomes my brisk bride