“At our lang wars i’ fair Scotland
I lang hae lang’d to be
If fifteen hunder wale wight men
You’ll grant to ride wi’ me.”
“Thou sal hae thae thou sal hae mae
I say it sickerly;
And I mysel an auld grey man
Arrayd your host sal see.”—
King Edward rade King Edward ran—
I wish him dool and pain!
Till he had fifteen hundred men
Assembled on the Tyne.
And twice as many at North Berwick
Was a’ for battle bound
They lighted on the banks of Tweed
And blew their coals sae het
And fired the Merce and Tevidale
All in an evening late
As they far’d up o’er Lammermor
They burn’d baith tower and town
Until they came to a derksome house,
Some call it Leaders Town
Whae hauds this house young Edward crys,
Or whae gae’st ower to me
A grey haired knight set up his head
And cracked right crousely
Of Scotlands King I haud my house
He pays me meat and fee
And I will keep my goud auld house
While my house will keep me
They laid their sowies to the wall
Wi’ mony heavy peal
But he threw ower to them again
Baith piech and tar barille
With springs: wall stanes, and good of ern,
Among them fast he threw
Till mony of the Englishmen
About the wall he slew.
Full fifteen days that braid host lay
Sieging old Maitlen keen
Then they hae left him safe and hale
Within his strength o’ stane