"I winna let the kye gae back,125
Neither for thy love, nor yet thy fear;
But I will drive Jamie Telfer's kye,
In spite of every Scott that's here."
"Set on them, lads!" quo' Willie than;
"Fye, lads, set on them cruellie!130
For ere they win to the Ritterford,
Mony a toom saddle there sall be!"
Then til't they gaed, wi' heart and hand,
The blows fell thick as bickering hail;
And mony a horse ran masterless,135
And mony a comely cheek was pale.
But Willie was stricken ower the head,
And thro' the knapscap the sword has gane;
And Harden grat for very rage,
Whan Willie on the grund lay slane.140
But he's ta'en aff his gude steel cap,
And thrice he's waved it in the air;
The [Dinlay] snaw was ne'er mair white
Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair.
"Revenge! revenge!" auld Wat 'gan cry;145
"Fye, lads, lay on them cruellie!
We'll ne'er see Tiviotside again,
Or Willie's death revenged sall be."
O mony a horse ran masterless,
The splinter'd lances flew on hie;150
But or they wan ta the Kershope ford,
The Scotts had gotten the victory.
[John o' Brigham] there was slane,
And John o' Barlow, as I heard say;
And thirty mae o' the Captain's men155
Lay bleeding on the grund that day.