"But this sad fraye, this fatal daye,
May breid baith dule and payne,
My freckle brithren ne'er will staye
Till they're avengit or slayne.

"The wudman sleeps in Sundhope-brume, Into a lowlye grave;

Young Jock they bure to Harden's tome, And layde him wi' the lave.

"Thus fell that brave and cumlye youth,
Whose arm was like the steel;
Whose very look was opin truth,
Whose heart was true and leel.

"It's now full three-and-thirty zeirs
Syn that unhappye daye,
And late I saw his cumlye corpse
Without the leist dekaye:

"The garland cross his breast aboon,
Still held its varied hew;
The roses bloom'd upon his shoon
As faire as if they grew.

"I raised our vassals ane and a',
Wi' mickil care and pain,
Expecting Harden's furious sons
Wi' all their father's train.

"But Harden was a wierdly man,

A cunnin' tod was he;

He lockit his sons in prison straung,
And wi' him bore the key.

"And hee's awa to Holy Rood, Amang our nobles a',

With bonnit lyke a girdel braid,

And hayre like Craighop snaw;

"His coat was like the forest grene, Wi' buttons lyke the moon;

His breeks war of the gude buck-skynne, Wi' a' the hayre aboon.

"His twa-hand sword hung around his neck,

And rattled to his heel;

The rowels of his silver spurs,

Were of the Rippon steel;

"His hose were braced wi' chaine o' airn,
And round wi' tassels hung,
At ilka tramp of Harden's heel
The royal arches rung.

"The courtly nobles of the north
The chief with wonder eyed,

But Harden's form, and Harden's look,
Were hard to be denied.

"He made his plaint unto our king, And magnified the deed;

While high Buccleuch, with pith enouch, Made Harden better speed.

"Ane grant of all our lands sae fayre,
The king to him has gi'en,

And all the Scotts of Gilmanscleuch
War outlawed ilka ane.

"The time I mist, and never wist

Of nae sic treacherye,

Till I got word frae kind Traquare,
The country shune to flee.

"For me and mine nae friend wad fynd,

But fa' ane easy preye;

While yet my brither weakly was,

And scarce could brook the way.

"Now I ha'e foucht in foreign fields,
In mony a bluddy fray,
But lang'd to see my native hills
Afore my dying day.

"My brother fell in Hungarye,
When fighting by my side;
My luckless sister bore ane son
But broke hir heart and dyed.

"That son, now a' my earthly care,
Of port and stature fine;

He has thine eye, and is thy blood,
As weel as he is mine.

"For

me, I'm but a puir auld man,
That name regairds ava;

The peaceful grave will end my care,
Where I maun shortly fa'."-

"I ga'e him a' my goud, father,
I gat on New Year's day;
And welcomed him to Harden ha',
With us awhile to stay."

"My sweet Peggye, my dear Peggye,

Ye ay were dear to me;

For ilka bonnet-piece ye gave,

My love, ye shall ha'e three.

"Auld Gilmanscleuch sal share wi' me

The table and the ha';

We'll tell of a' our doughty deeds

At hame and far awa.

"That youth, my hapless brother's son,
Who bears our eye and name,
Sal farm the lands of Gilmanscleuch,
While Harden halds the same.

"Nae rent, nor kane, nor service mean,

I'll ask at him at a',

Only to stand at my ryht hand

When Branxholm gi'es the ca'.

"A Scott should ay support a Scott,
When sinking to decaye,
Till over a' the Southlan' hills
We stretch our ample sway."