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Sir Hugh Montgomery was he called,
Who, with a spear most bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran fiercely through the fight,
And past the English archers all,
Without all dread and fear; And through Earl Percy's body then
He thrust his hateful spear ;
With such vehement force and might
He did his body gore, The staff went through the other side
A large cloth-yard, and more!
So thus did both these nobles die,
Whose courage none could stain. An English archer then perceiver
The noble earl was slain :
He had a bow bent in his hand,
Made of a trusty tree :
Up to the head drew he :
Against Sir Hugh Montgomery
So right the shaft he set, The gray-goose wing that was thereon
In his heart's blood was wet!
This fight did last from break of day
Till setting of the sun ; For when they rang the evening bell
The battle scarce was done.
With brave Earl Percy there was slain
Sir John of Egerton,
Sir James, that bold baròn :
And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
Both knights of good account,
Whose prowess did surmount.
For Witherington my heart is sore
That ever he slain should be ;
He knelt and fought on his knee!
And with Earl Douglas there was slain
Sir Hugh Montgomery ;
One foot would never flee.
Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
His sister's son was he;
Yet saved could not be.
And the Lord Maxwell in like case
Did with Earl Douglas die:
Scarce fifty-five did fly.
Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three;
Under the greenwood tree.
Next day did many widows come,
Their husbands to bewail ; They washed their wounds in brinish tears,
But all would not prevail.
Their bodies, bathed in purple gore,
They bare with them away; They kissed them dead a thousand times,
Ere they were clad in clay.
This news was brought to Edinburgh,
Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly
Was with an arrow slain,
“Oh, heavy news!" King James did say:
“Scotland can witness be, I have not any captain more
Of such account as he."
Like tidings to King Henry came
Within as short a space, That Percy of Northumberland
Was slain in Chevy Chase.
“Now God be with him," said our king,
“Since it will no better be ; I trust I have, within my realm,
Five hundred as good as he:
Yet shall not Scots nor Scotland say
But I will vengeance take : I'll be revenged on them all
For brave Earl Percy's sake.”—
This vow full well the king performed,
After, at Humbledown :
With lords of great renown;
And of the rest, of small account,
Did many hundreds die : Thus ending the hunting of Chevy Chase,
Made by the Earl Percy.
God save our king, and bless this land,
In plenty, joy, and peace; And grant henceforth that foul debate 'Twixt noblemen may cease.
Old Ballad. A TALE.
[This tale is founded on an article which appeared in the Buckinghamshire Herald for Saturday, June 1, 1793:-“Glasgow, May 23. In a block, or pulley, near the head of the mast of a gabert, now lying at the Broomielaw, there is a chaffinch's nest and four eggs. The nest was built while the vessel lay at Greenock, and was followed hither by both birds. Though the block is occasionally lowered for the inspection of the curious, the birds have not forsaken the nest. The cock, however, visits the nest but seldom, while the ben never leaves it but when she descends to the hull for food.”]
In Scotland's realm, where trees are few
Nor even shrubs abound;
Some better things are found;
The history chanced of late-
A chaffinch and his mate.
With genial instinct filled;
But found not where to build.
Except with snow and sleet,
Could yield them no retreat.
Till both grew vexed and tired ;
The good so long desired.
Afford them place of rest;
The homeless birds a nest ?
Hush-silent hearers profit most ;
This racer of the sea
It served them with a tree.
But such a tree! 'Twas shaven deal,
The tree they call a mast,
Through which the tackle passed. Within that cavity aloft
Their roofless home they fixed, Formed with materials neat and soft,
Bents, wool, and feathers mixed.
Four ivory eggs soon pave its floor,
With russet specks bedightThe vessel weighs, forsakes the shore,
And lessens to the sight.
The mother-bird is gone to sea,
As she had changed her kind; But goes the male ? Far wiser, he
Is doubtless left behind.
No ;—soon as from ashore he saw
The winged mansion move, He flew to reach it, by a law
Of never-failing love.
Then, perching at his consort's side,
Was briskly borne along,
And cheered her with a song.
The seaman with sincere delight
His feathered shipmates eyes, Scarce less exulting in the sight
Than when he tows a prize.
For seamen much believe in signs,
And from a chance so new Each some approaching good divines ;
And may his hopes be true!
Hail, honoured land! a desert where
Not even birds can hide,