He has pitch'd his sword in a moodie-hill,
And he has leap'd twenty lang feet and three,
And on his ain sword's point he lap,141
And dead upon the ground fell he.
'Twas then came up Sir Robert Bewick,
And his brave son alive saw he;
"Rise up, rise up, my son," he said,145
"For I think ye hae gotten the victorie."
"O hald your tongue, my father dear,
Of your prideful talking let me be!
Ye might hae drunken your wine in peace,
And let me and my billie be.150
"Gae dig a grave, baith wide and deep,
And a grave to hald baith him and me;
But lay Christie Græme on the sunny side,
For I'm sure he wan the victorie."
"Alack! a wae!" auld Bewick cried,155
"Alack! was I not much to blame?
I'm sure I've lost the liveliest lad
That e'er was born unto my name."
"Alack! a wae!" quo' gude Lord Græme,
"I'm sure I hae lost the deeper lack!160
I durst hae ridden the Border through,
Had Christie Græme been at my back.
"Had I been led through Liddesdale,
And thirty horsemen guarding me,
And Christie Græme been at my back,165
Sae soon as he had set me free!
"I've lost my hopes, I've lost my joy,
I've lost the key but and the lock;
I durst hae ridden the world round,
Had Christie Græme been at my back."170
[15], Scott, Ye sent;