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"Gie owre your house, ye lady fair,
"I winna gie owre, ye fause Gordon,
"Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man,
She stood upon her castle wa',
And let twa bullets flee:
She missed that bluidy butcher's heart, And only razed his knee.
"Set fire to the house!" quo' fause Gordon, Wud wi' dule and ire: "Fause ladye, ye sall rue that shot As ye burn in the fire!"
"Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man! I paid ye weel your fee;
Why pu' ye out the grund-wa' stane,
But on the point o' Gordon's spear
O bonnie, bonnie was her mouth,
Then wi' his spear he turned her owre;
He cam' and lookit again at her;
"Busk and boun, my merry men a',
I cannot look on that bonnie face
"Wha looks to freits, my master dear, Its freits will follow them;
Let it ne'er be said that Edom o' Gordon Was daunted by a dame."
But when the ladye saw the fire
The Gordon then his bugle blew,
And said, "Awa', awa'!
This house o' the Rodes is a' in a flame; I hauld it time to ga'."
And this way lookit her ain dear lord,
He saw his castle a' in a lowe,
"Put on, put on, my wighty men,
For he that's hindmost o' the thrang
Then some they rade, and some they ran,
And after the Gordon he is gane,
TAKE THY AULD CLOAK ABOUT THEE,
IN winter, when the rain rained cauld, And frost and snow were on the hill, And Boreas with his blasts sae bâuld
Was threat'ning all our kye to kill; Then Bell, my wife, wha loves not strife, She said to me right hastilie, "Get up, gudeman, save Crummie's life, And take thy auld cloak about thee!
"Cow Crummie is a useful cow,
And she is come of a good kin'; Aft has she wet the bairnies' mou',
And I am laith that she should pine: Get up, gudeman, it is fu' time!
The sun shines frae the lift sae hie; Sloth never made a gracious end,
Gae, take thy auld cloak about thee!"
"My cloak was once a gude gray cloak, When it was fitting for my wear; But now it's scantly worth a groat,
For I hae worn 't this thirty year: Let's spend the gear that we hae won, We little ken the day we 'll dee; Then I'll be proud, since I hae sworn To hae a new cloak about me.
"In days when our King Robert reigned, His breeches cost but half a crown; He said they were a groat too dear,
And ca'd the tailor thief and loun. He was the king that wore the crown, And thou the man of low degree: It's pride puts a' the country down,
Sae take thy auld cloak about thee!"
"O Bell, my wife, why dost thou flout?
Then by there came twa gentlemen
Nor coal nor candle light.
And first they ate the white puddings,
Yet ne'er a word she spak'.
Then said the one unto the other,
"Here, man, tak' ye my knife!