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.”
JAMIE TELFER
(Child, vol. vi. Early Edition.)
It fell about the Martinmas tyde,
When our Border steeds get corn and hay
The captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to ryde,
And he’s ower to Tividale to drive a prey.
The first ae guide that they met wi’,
It was high up Hardhaughswire;
The second guide that we met wi’,
It was laigh down in Borthwick water.
“What tidings, what tidings, my trusty guide?”
“Nae tidings, nae tidings, I hae to thee;
But, gin ye’ll gae to the fair Dodhead,
Mony a cow’s cauf I’ll let thee see.”
And whan they cam to the fair Dodhead,
Right hastily they clam the peel;
They loosed the kye out, ane and a’,
And ranshackled the house right weel.
Now Jamie Telfer’s heart was sair,
The tear aye rowing in his e’e;
He pled wi’ the captain to hae his gear,
Or else revenged he wad be.
The captain turned him round and leugh;
Said—“Man, there’s naething in thy house,
But ae auld sword without a sheath,
That hardly now wad fell a mouse!”