Gie my service back to my wife and bairns, And a' gude fellows that speer for me." Then Red Rowan has hente him up, The starkest man in Teviotdale-- "Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell. "Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! My gude Lord Scroope, farewell!" he cried-- "I'll pay you for my lodging mail, When first we meet on the Border side." Then shoulder high, with shout and cry, We bore him down the ladder lang: At every stride Red Rowan made, I wot the Kinmont's airns play'd clang. "O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willy, "I have ridden horse baith wild and wood; But a rougher beast than Red Rowan I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode. (_hente_, caught. _fley'd,_ frightened. _starkest,_ strongest. _airns_, irons.) "And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willy, "I've prick'd a horse out ower the furs; But since the day I back'd a steed, I never wore sic cumbrous spurs." We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, And a thousand men on horse and foot Came wi' the keen Lord Scroope along. Buccleuch has turn'd to Eden Water, Even where it flow'd frae bank to brim, And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, And safely swam them through the stream. He turn'd him on the other side, And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he-- "If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me!" All sore astonish'd stood Lord Scroope, He stood as still as rock of stane; He scarcely dared to trew his eyes, When through the water they had gane. He is either himsel' a devil frae hell, Or else his mother a witch maun be; "I wadna hae ridden that wan water For a' the gowd in Christianty." (_furs_, furrows. _trew_, trust.) THE DROWNED LOVERS |Ye gie corn unto my horse, An' meat unto my man; For I will gae to my true love's gates This night, that I can win." "O stay at hame this ae night, Willy, This ae bare night wi' me; The best bed in a' my house Shall be well made to thee." "I carena for your beds, mither, I carena a pin; For I'll gae to my love's gates This night, gin I can win." 4 Oh stay, my son Willy, this night, This ae night wi' me; The best hen in a' my roost Shall be well made ready for thee." "I carena for your hens, mither, I carena a pin; I shall gae to my love's gates This night, gin I can win." "Gin ye winna stay, my son Willy, This ae bare night wi' me, Gin Clyde's water's be deep and fu' o' flood, My malison drown thee!" He rade up yon high hill, And down yon dowie den, The roaring of Clyde's water Wad hae fleyed ten thousand men. "O spare me, Clyde's water, O spare me as I gae! Mak' me your wrack as I come back, But spare me as I gae!" He rade in, and farther in,