CHEVY CHASE I.

  It fell about the Lammas tide,
  When muir-men win their hay,
  The doughty Douglas bound him to ride
  Into England to drive a prey.

  He chose the Gordons and the Graemes,
  With them the Lindsays, light and gay;
  But the Jardines would not with them ride,
  And they rue it to this day.

  And he has burned the dales o’ Tyne,
  And part o’ Bamburghshire;
  And three good towers on Reidswire fells
  He left them all on fire.

  And he marched up to New Castel,
  And rode it round about;
  “O wha’s the lord of this castel? 
  Or wha’s the lady o’t?”

  And up spake proud Lord Percy then,
  And O! but he spake hie! 
  “O I’m the lord of this castel,
  My wife’s the lady gay.”

  “If thou art the lord of this castel,
  Sae weel it pleases me! 
  For ere I cross the Border fells,
  The tane of us sall die.”

  He took a lang spere in his hand
  Shod wi’ the metal free,
  And for to meet the Douglas there
  He rode right furiouslie!

  But oh! how pale his lady looked
  Frae off the castle wa’,
  When down before the Scottish speare
  She saw proud Percy fa’!

  “Had we twa been upon the green,
  And never an eye to see,
  I wad hae had you, flesh and fell,
  But your sword shall gae wi’ me.”

  “But gae ye up to Otterbourne
  And wait there dayis three,
  And if I come not ere three dayis end,
  A fause knight ca’ ye me.”

  “The Otterbourne’s a bonnie burn,
  ’Tis pleasant there to be;
  But there is naught at Otterbourne
  To feed my men and me.

  “The deer rins wild on hill and dale,
  The birds fly wild frae tree to tree,
  But there is neither bread nor kale
  To feed my men and me.

  “Yet I will stay at Otterbourne
  Where you sall welcome be;
  And if ye come not at three dayis end
  A fause lord I’ll call thee.”

  “Thither will I come,” proud Percy said,
  “By the might of Our Ladye!”
  “Thither will I bide thee,” said the Douglas,
  “My troth I plight to thee.”

  They lighted high on Otterbourne,
  Upon the bent sae brown;
  They lighted high on Otterbourne
  And threw their pallions down.

  And he that had a bonnie boy,
  Sent out his horse to grass;
  And he that had not a bonnie boy,
  His ain servant he was.

  And up then spake a little foot-page,
  Before the peep o’ dawn—­
  “O waken, waken ye, my good lord,
  The Percy is hard at hand!”

  “Ye lee, ye lee, ye leear loud! 
  Sae loud I hear ye lee! 
  For Percy had not men yestreen
  To dight my men and me!”

  “But I hae dreamed a dreary dream,
  Beyond the Isle of Skye;
  I saw a dead man win a fight,
  An’ I think that man was I.”