To lay thee law as borfes bufe, My word I mean to keip; Syne with the first strake eir he strake, He garr'd his body bleid. XXXI. Norfe ene lyke gray gofehawks stair'd wyld, XXXII. Full foon he rais'd his bent body, His bow he marvell'd fair, Sae foon as eir he strake a fae, XXXIII. Whair lyke a fyre to heather fet, Bauld Thomas did advance, A sturdy fae with look enrag'd Up towards him did prance; He fpurr'd his fteid throw thickest rank, Wha ftood unmov'd at his approach His fury to repell. XXXIV. That short brown shaft fae meanly trimm'd But dreidful feims the rufty poynt! Aft Britons blude has dimm'd its shyne, Syne Syne pierc'd the boafter's bairded cheik,.. XXXV. Short while he in his faddle swang, His stirrip was nae ftay, Sae feible hang his unbent knee, XXXVI. With cairles gefture, mynd unmov'd, Coud meise faft love to bruik, XXXVII. In thrawis of death, with wailowit cheik, All panting on the plain, The fainting corpfe of warriors lay, Neir to return to native land, Nae mair with blythsome sounds, To boaft the glories of the day, XXXVIII. On Norway's coaft the widow'd dame Ceife, Emma, ceife to hope in vain, The valiant Scots nae revers thole To carry life away. T 2 There XXXIX. There on a lie whair ftands a cross, Set up for monument, Thoufands full fierce that fummer's day Ay how he faught, aft how he fpaird, Sal latest XL. Loud and chill blew weftlin wind, Seim'd now as black as mourning weid, XLI. There's nae light in my lady's bowir, XLII. As fast as I baefed owre Scotland's faes, Scir fham'd to mynd ought but his dame, Elack fear he felt, but what to fear, He wift not yet with dreid; Sair fhock his body, fair his limbs, * The Ufk The Braes of YARROW. But ye, bulk ye, my bonny bonny bride, ye, bufk ye, my winfome marrow,, Bufk ye, bufk ye, my bonny bonny bride, And let us leave the braes of Yarrow. Where got ye that bonny bonny bride,. I got her where I durft not well be seen, Puing the birks on the braes of Yarrow. Weep not, weep not, my bonny bonny bride, Why does fhe weep, thy bonny bonny bride ?. Lang muft fhe weep, lang must she, muft fhe weep,, For fhe has tint her lover, lover dear, That ever pu'd birks on the braes of Yarrow. Why runs thy ftream, O Yarrow, Yarrow, reid ?? And why yon melancholious weeds, Hung on the bonny birks of Yarrow? What's yonder floats on the rueful, rueful flood? O'tis the comely fwain I flew Upon the doleful braes of Yarrow.. T. 3, Wal Wash, O wash his wounds, his wounds in tears, Then build, then build, ye fifters, fifters fad, His helpless fate on the braes of Yarrow. Curfe ye, curfe ye, his useless useless shield, Did I not warn thee not to, not to love, Too rafhly bold, a ftronger arm Thou mett'ft, and fell on the braes of Yarrow. Sweet fmells the birk, green grows, green grows the Yellow on Yarrow's braes the gowan, Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan. [grafs, Flows Yarrow fweet, as sweet, as fweet flows Tweed, As green its grafs, its gowan as yellow, As fweet fmells on its braes the birk, The apple from its rocks as mellow. Fair was thy love, fair, fair indeed thy love, In flow'ry bands thou didst him fetter; Bufk ye, then bufk, my bonny bonny bride, How |