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“ He leanit himsel agenst ane aek,
Nae mair cou'd act his parte; A wudman then sprang frae the brume,
And percit young Harden's herte.
“Bein yald and stout, he wheelit about,
And kluve his head in twaine; Then calmlye laid him on the grene,
Niver to ryse againe.
“I raid owr heicht, I raid through howe,
And ferr outstrippit the wynde, And sent my voyce the forest throw,
But naething cou'd I fynde.
" And whan I came, the dysmal syghte
Wad melt an herte of stane! My brither fente and bleiden laye,
Young Harden neirly gane.
"And art thou there, O Gilmanscleuch!
Wi' faltren tongue he cried, Hadst thou arrivit tyme eneuch,
Thy kinsmen hadna died.
"Be kind unto thy sister Jean,
Whatever may betide ;
To maik of hir my bride :
“ 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,
Without the leist dekaye:
" The garland cross his breast aboon,
Still held its varied hew;
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;
And wi' him bore the key.
“ And hee's awa to Holy Rood,
Amang our nobles a',
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 ratuled to his heel;
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,
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,
War outlawed ilka ane.
"The time I mist, and never wist
Of nae sic treacherye,
The country shune to flee.
“For me and mine nae friend wad fynd,
But fa' ane easy preye ;
And scarce could brook the way.
“Now I ha'e foucht in foreign fields,
In mony a bluddy fray,
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 ;
As weel as he is mine.
“For me, I'm but a puir auld man,
That name regairds ava;
Where I maun shortly fa’.”
“I ga'e him a' my goud, father,
I gat on New Year's day ;
With us awhile to stay."
“My sweet Peggye, my dear Peggye,
Ye ay were dear to me;
My love, ye shall ha'e three.
"Auld Gilmanscleuch sal share wi' me
The table and the ha';
At hame and far awa.
“ That youth, my hapless brother's son,
Who bears our eye and name,
While Harden halds the same.