‘God be with thee, Kirsty, my brother, Lang live thou Laird of Mangertoun! Lang mayst thou live on the Border syde, Ere thou see thy brother ride up and doun! XXX ‘And God be with thee, Kirsty, my son, Where thou sits on thy nurse’s knee! But an thou live this hundred yeir, Thy father’s better thou’lt never be. XXXI ‘Farewell! my bonny Gilnock hall, Where on Esk side thou standest stout! Gif I had lived but seven yeirs mair, I wad hae gilt thee round about.’ XXXII John murder’d was at Carlinrigg, And all his gallant companie; But Scotland’s heart was ne’er sae wae, To see sae mony brave men die-- XXXIII Because they saved their country deir Frae Englishmen! Nane were sa bauld, Whyle Johnie lived on the Border syde, Nane of them durst cum neir his hauld. FOOTNOTES: [545] kinnen = rabbits. [546] nicker = neigh. [547] gilt = gold. [548] dow = are able to. [549] ganging = going. [550] happers = mill-hoppers. [551] skaith’d = hurt, wronged. [552] targats = round ornaments. [553] blink sae brawlie = glance so bravely. [554] brie = brow. _90. Clyde Water_ I Willie stands in his stable door, And clapping at his steed, And over his white fingers His nose began to bleed. II ‘Gie corn unto my horse, mither, Gie meat unto my man; For I maun gang to Margaret’s bour Before the nicht comes on.’-- III ‘O bide at hame this nicht, Willie, This ae bare nicht wi’ me: The bestan bed in a’ my house Sall be well made to thee. IV ‘O bide at hame this nicht, Willie, This ae bare nicht wi’ me: The bestan bird in a’ the roost At your supper, son, sall be.’-- V ‘A’ your beds and a’ your roosts I value not a pin; But I sall gae to my love’s gates This nicht, gif I can win.’-- VI ‘O stay at home, my son Willie, The wind blaws cauld an’ sour; The nicht will be baith mirk and late Before ye reach her bour.’-- VII ‘O though the nicht were ever sae dark, Or the wind blew never sae cauld, I will be in my Margaret’s bour Before twa hours be tald.’-- VIII ‘O an ye gang to Margaret’s bour Sae sair against my will, I’ the deepest pot o’ Clyde’s water My malison[555] ye’se feel.’ IX As he rade owre yon high high hill, And doun yon dowie[556] den, The roaring that was in Clyde’s water Wad fley’d[557] five hundred men. X His heart was warm, his pride was up, Sweet Willie kentna fear; But yet his mither’s malison Aye soundit in his ear. XI ‘O spare, O spare me, Clyde’s water: Your stream rins wondrous strang: Mak’ me your wrack as I come back, But spare me as I gang!’ XII