There was no freyke that there would fly, But stiffly in stour did stand, Echone hewing on other while they might dry, With many a baleful brand. There was slain upon the Scottes side, For sooth and certainly, Sir James of Douglas there was slain, That day that he did die. The Earl of Menteith he was slain. Grysely groaned upon the ground; Sir Davy Scot, Sir Walter Steward, Sir John of Agerstone. Sir Charles Murray in that place, That never a foot would fly; Sir Hugh Maxwell, a lord he was, With the Douglas did he die. There was slain upon the Scottes side, For sooth as I you say, Of four and forty thousand Scots, Went but eighteen away. There was slain upon the English side, For sooth and certainly, A gentle knight, Sir John Fitzhugh, It was the more pity. Sir James Harebotell there was slain, For him their hearts were sore The gentle Lovel there was slain, That the Percy's standard bore. There was slain upon the English side, For sooth as I you say, Of nine thousand Englishmen, Five hundred came away; The others were slayne in the field, Christ keep their souls from woe, Seeing there were so few friends Against so many a foe! Then on the morn they made them biers Of birch and hazel gray; Many a widow with weeping tears Their makes they fetch away. This fray began at Otterburn, Between the night and the day; There the Douglas lost his life, And the Percy was led away. Then was there a Scottish prisoner ta'en, Sir Hugh Montgomery was his name, For sooth as I you say, He borrowed the Percy home again. Now let us all for the Percy pray, To Jesu most of might, To bring his soul to the bliss of heaven, For he was a gentle knight. The Lament of the Border Widow My love he built me a bonny bower, And clad it a' wi' a lilye flower, A brawer bower ye ne'er did see, Than my true love he built for me. 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 so dear; He slew my knight, and poined his gear; My servants all for life did flee, And left me in extremitie. I sewed his sheet, making my mane; I watched the corpse, myself alane; I watched 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 digged a grave, and laid him in, And happed him with the sod so green. But think na ye my heart was sair, When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair; Think na ye my heart was wae, When I turned about, away to gae?