Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

And there the Laird gar'd leave our steeds, For fear that they should stamp and neigh.

And when we left the Staneshaw bank,
The wind began full loud to blaw;
But 'twas wind and weet, and fire and sleet,
When we came beneath the castle wa'.

We crept on knees, and held our breath,
Till we placed the ladders against the wa’;
And so ready was Buccleuch himsell,
To mount the first before us a'.

He has taken the watchman by the throat,
He flung him down upon the lead ;—
Had there not been peace between our land,
Upon the other side thou hadst gaed.

Now sound our trumpet, quo' Buccleuch,
Let's waken Lord Scroop right merrily:
Then loud the warder's trumpet blew,
"O wha dare meddle wi' me?"

Then speedily to work we gaed,

And raised the slogan ane and a', And cut a hole through a sheet of lead; And so we won to the castle ha'.

They thought King James and all his men, Had won the house with bow and spear:

It was but twenty Scots and ten

That put a thousand in such a stear!*

With coulters and with fore-hammers
We gar'd the bars bang merrily,

Until we came to the inner prison,
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie.

* Stir.

And when we came to the lower prison,
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie,-
O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie,
Upon the morn that thou'st to die?

OI sleep saft, and I wake aft,

It's lang since sleeping was fleyed * from me ; Give my service back to my wife and bairns, And a' good fellows that spier + for me.

Then Red Rowan has hente him up,

The starkest man in TeviotdaleAbide! abide! now Red Rowan,

Till of my Lord Scroop I take farewell.

Farewell! farewell! my gude Lord Scroop-
My gude Lord Scroop, farewell! he cried,
I'll pay you for my lodging maill, †

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 irons played clang.

O mony a time, quoth Kinmont Willie,

I have ridden horse, baith wild and wood;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan,
I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode.

And mony a time, quoth Kinmont Willie,
I've pricked a horse out o'er the furs; §
But since the day I backed a steed,
I never wore sic cumbrous spurs.

We scarce had won the Staneshaw bank,
When a' the Carlisle bells were rung,

• Driven.

+ Ask.

Rent.

Furrows.

And a thousand men, in horse and foot,
Came wi' the keen Lord Scroop along.
Buccleuch has turned to Eden water,

Even where it flowed frae bank to brim,
And he has plunged in with a' his band,
And safely swam them through the stream.
He turned him on the other side,

And at Lord Scroop his glaive flung he: "If ye like na my visit in merry England, In fair Scotland come visit me."

All sore astonished stood Lord Scroop,
He stood as still as rock of stone;

He scarcely dared to turn his eyes,

When through the water they had gone.

"He is either himself a devil frae hell,
Or else his mother a witch maun be,-
I wad na have ridden that wan* water
For all the gold in Christentie!"

SCOTT'S BORDER MINSTRELSY.

* White.

THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY.

RISE up, rise up now, Lord Douglas, she says,
And put on your armour so bright;

Let it never be said, that a daughter of thine
Was married to a Lord under night.

Rise up, rise up, my seven bold sons,

And put on your armour so bright;

And take better care of your youngest sister,
For
your eldest's awa the last night.

He's mounted her on a milk-white steed,
And himself on a dapple gray,

With a buglet horn hung down by his side,
And lightly he rode away.

Lord William looked over his left shoulder,

To see what he could see,

And there he 'spied her seven brethren bold,

Come riding over the lee.

Light down, light down, Lady Margaret, he said,

And hold my steed in your hand,

Until that against your seven brethren bold,

And your father, I make a stand.

She held his steed in her milk-white hand,

And never shed one tear,

Until that she saw her seven brethren fall,

And her father hard fighting, that she loved so dear.

O hold your hand, Lord William, she said,

For your strokes they are wondrous sore; True lovers I can get many a one,

But a Father I can never get more.

O she 's taken out her handkerchief,
It was of the Holland so fine,

And aye she dighted her father's bloody wounds,
That were redder than the wine.

O choose, O choose, Lady Margaret, he said,
O whether will ye gang or bide?

I'll

gang, I'll gang, Lord William, she said, For ye have left me no other guide.

He has lifted her on a milk-white steed,
Himself on a dapple gray,

With a buglet horn hung down by his side,
And slowly they both rode away.

O they rode on, and on they rode,
And all by the light of the moon,
Until that they came to yon wan water,
And there they lighted down.

They lighted down to take a drink

Of the spring that ran so clear,

And down the stream ran his good heart's blood,
And sore she began to fear.

Hold up, hold up, Lord William, she says,

For I fear that you are slain!

"T is nothing but the shadow of my scarlet cloak, That shines in the water so plain.

« AnteriorContinuar »