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

He has taen the watchman by the throat,
He flung him down upon the lead: 
“Had there not been peace between our lands,
Upon the other side thou hadst gaed.

“Now sound out, trumpets!” quo Buccleuch;
“Let’s waken Lord Scroope right merrilie!”
Then loud the warden’s trumpet blew
“O whae dare meddle wi me?”

Then speedilie to wark we gaed,
And raised the slogan ane and a’,
And cut a hole through a sheet of lead,
And so we wan to the castel-ha.

They thought King James and a’ his men
Had won the house wi bow and speir;
It was but twenty Scots and ten
That put a thousand in sic a stear!

Wi coulters, and wi fore-hammers,
We garrd the bars bang merrilie,
Until we came to the inner prison,
Where Willie o Kinmont he did lie.

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’s to die?”

“O I sleep saft, and I wake aft,
It’s lang since sleeping was fley’d frae me;
Gie my service back to my wyfe and bairns
And a’ gude fellows that speer for me.”

Then Red Rowan has hente him up,
The starkest man in Teviotdale: 
“Abide, abide now, Red Rowan,
Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell.

“Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope! 
My gude Lord Scroope, 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 airms playd clang!

“O mony a time,” quo Kinmont Willie. 
“I have ridden horse baith wild and wood;
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan,
I ween my legs have neer bestrode.

“And mony a time,” quo Kinmont Willie,
“I’ve pricked a horse out oure the furs;
But since the day I backed a steed
I nevir wore sic cumbrous spurs!”

We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank,
When a’ the Carlisle bells were rung,
And a thousand men, in horse and foot,
Cam wi the keen Lord Scroope along.

Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water,
Even where it flowd frae bank to brim,
And he has plunged in wi a’ his band,
And safely swam them thro the stream.

He turned him on the other side,
And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he: 
“If ye like na my visit in merry England,
In fair Scotland come visit me!”

All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope,
He stood as still as rock of stane;
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes,
When thro the water they had gane.

“He is either himsell a devil frae hell,
Or else his mother a witch maun be;
I wad na have ridden that wan water
For a’ the gowd in Christentie.”