"And what should I make wi' blazon and belt, Wi' keep and tail and seizin and fee,

And what should I do wi' page and squire
That am a king in my own countrie?

"For I send east and I send west,
And I send far as my will may flee,
By dawn and dusk and the drinking rain,
And syne my Sendings return to me.

"They come wi' news of the groanin' earth,
They come wi' news o' the roarin' sea,
Wi' word of Spirit and Ghost and Flesh,
And man that's mazed among the three."

The King he bit his nether lip,

And smote his hand upon his knee:

"By the faith o' my soul, True Thomas," he said, "Ye waste no wit in courtesie!

"As I desire, unto my pride,

Can I make Earls by three and three,

To run before and ride behind

And serve the sons o' my body."

"And what care I for your row-foot earls,

Or all the sons o' your body?

Before they win to the Pride o' Name,

I trow they all ask leave o' me.

"For I make Honour wi' muckle mouth, As I make Shame wi' mincin' feet,

To sing wi' the priests at the market-cross, Or run wi' the dogs in the naked street.

"And some they give me the good red gold,
And some they give me the white money,
And some they give me a clout o' meal,
For they be people o' low degree.

"And the song I sing for the counted gold The same I sing for the white money,

But best I sing for the clout o' meal
That simple people given me."

The King cast down a silver groat,
A silver groat o' Scots money,

"If I come with a poor man's dole," he said, "True Thomas, will ye harp to me?"

"Whenas I harp to the children small, They press me close on either hand:

And who are you," True Thomas said,

"That you should ride while they must stand?

"Light down, light down from your horse o' pride, I trow ye talk too loud and hie,

And I will make you a triple word,

And syne, if ye dare, ye shall 'noble me."

He has lighted down from his horse o' pride,
And set his back against the stone.

"Now guard you well," True Thomas said,
"Ere I rax your heart from your breast-bone!

True Thomas played upon his harp,

The fairy harp that couldna' lee,

And the first least word the proud King heard,
It harpit the salt tear out o' his ee.

"Oh, I see the love that I lost long syne,
I touch the hope that I may not see,
And all that I did o' hidden shame,
Like little snakes they hiss at me.

"The sun is lost at noon-at noon!

The dread o' doom has grippit me. True Thomas, hide me under your cloak, God wot, I'm little fit to dee!"

'Twas bent beneath and blue above-
'Twas open field and running flood-
Where, hot on heath and dyke and wall,

The high sun warmed the adder's brood.

"Lie down, lie down," True Thomas said. "The God shall judge when all is done; But I will bring you a better word And lift the cloud that I laid on."

True Thomas played upon his harp,
That birled and brattled to his hand,
And the next least word True Thomas made,
It garred the King take horse and brand.

"Oh, I hear the tread o' the fighting-men, I see the sun on splent and spear! I mark the arrow outen the fern!

That flies so low and sings so clear!

"Advance my standards to that war,

And bid my good knights prick and ride; The gled shall watch as fierce a fight

As e'er was fought on the Border side!"

'Twas bent beneath and blue above,
'Twas nodding grass and naked sky,
Where ringing up the wastrel wind
The eyass stooped upon the pye.

True Thomas sighed above his harp,

And turned the song on the midmost string; And the last least word True Thomas made He harpit his dead youth back to the King.

"Now I am prince, and I do well To love my love withouten fear;

To walk wi' man in fellowship,

And breathe my horse behind the deer.

"My hounds they bay unto the death, The buck has couched beyond the burn,

My love she waits at her window

To wash my hands when I return.