So thus did both these nobles die,
    Whose courage none could stain. 
  An English archer then perceived
    The noble earl was slain.

  He had a bow bent in his hand,
    Made of a trusty tree;
  An arrow of a cloth-yard long
    To the hard head haled he.

  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomery
    So right the shaft he set,
  The gray goose wing that was thereon
    In his heart’s blood was wet.

  This fight did last from break of day
    Till setting of the sun;
  For when they rung the evening-bell
    The battle scarce was done.

  With stout Earl Piercy there were slain
    Sir John of Egerton,
  Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
    Sir James, that bold baron.

  And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
    Both knights of good account. 
  Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain,
    Whose prowess did surmount.

  For Witherington my heart is woe
    That ever he slain should be,
  For when his legs were hewn in two,
    He knelt and fought on his knee.

  And with Earl Douglas there was slain
    Sir Hugh Mountgomery,
  Sir Charles Murray, that from the field
    One foot would never flee;

  Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too,—­
    His sister’s son was he;
  Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed,
    But saved he could not be.

  And the Lord Maxwell in like case
    Did with Earl Douglas die: 
  Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,
    Scarce fifty-five did fly.

  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
    Went home but fifty-three;
  The rest in Chevy-Chace were slain,
    Under the greenwood tree.

  Next day did many widows come,
    Their husbands to bewail;
  They washed their wounds in brinish tears. 
    But all would not prevail.

  Their bodies, bathed in purple blood,
    They bore with them away;
  They kissed them dead a thousand times,
    Ere they were clad in clay.

  The news was brought to Edinburgh,
    Where Scotland’s king did reign,
  That brave Earl Douglas suddenly
    Was with an arrow slain: 

  “O heavy news,” King James did say;
    “Scotland can witness be
  I have not any captain more
    Of such account as he.”

  Like tidings to King Henry came
    Within as short a, space,
  That Piercy of Northumberland
    Was slain in Chevy-Chace: 

  “Now God be with him,” said our King,
    “Since ’twill no better be;
  I trust I have within my realm
    Five hundred as good as he: 

  “Yet shall not Scots or Scotland say
    But I will vengeance take;
  I’ll be revenged on them all
    For brave Earl Piercy’s sake.”

  This vow full well the king performed
    After at Humbledown;
  In one day fifty knights were slain
    With lords of high renown;