Of fifteen hondrith archars of Yonglonde
Went away but fifti and thre;
Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,
But even five and fifti:
But all wear slayne Cheviat within;
The hade no strengthe to stand on hie;
The chylde may rue that ys unborne,
It was the mor pittè.
Thear was slayne with the lord Persè
Sir John of Agerstone,
Sir Rogar the hinde Hartly,
Sir Wyllyam the bolde Hearone.
Sir Jorg the worthè Lovele,
A knyght of great renowen,
Sir Raff the ryche Rugbè,
With dyntes wear beaten dowene.
For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,
That ever he slayne shulde be;
For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,
Yet he knyled and fought on hys kne.
Ther was slayne with the dougheti Douglas,
Sir Hewe the Mongonbyrry,
Sir Davye Lwdale, that worthè was,
His sistars son was he:
His Charls a Murrè in that place,
That never a foot wolde fle;
Sir Hewe Maxwell, a lorde he was,
With the Duglas dyd he dey.
So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
Off birch and hasell so gray;
Many wedous with wepyng tears
Cam to fach ther makys away.
Tivydale may carpe off care,
Northombarlond may mayk grat mon,
For towe such captayns as slayne wear thear,
On the march perti shall never be non.
Word ys commen to Eddenburrowe,
To Jamy the Skottishe kyng,
That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Merches,
He lay slean Chyviot with-in.