Doughty Dan o' the Houlet Hirst,
Thou was aye gude at a birst;40
Gude wi' a bow, and better wi' a speir,
The bauldest March-man that e'er follow'd gear:
Come thou here.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane.45
Rise, ye carle coopers, frae making o' kirns and tubs,
In the [Nicol forest woods].
Your craft hasna left the value of an oak rod,
But if you had ony fear o' God,
Last night ye hadna slept sae sound,50
And let my gear be a' ta'en.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.
Ah! lads, we'll fang them a' in a net,
For I hae a' the fords o' Liddel set;55
The Dunkin and the Door-loup,
The Willie-ford, and the Water-slack,
The Black-rack and the Trout-dub of Liddel.
There stands John Forster, wi' five men at his back,
Wi bufft coat and cap of steil.60
Boo! ca' at them e'en, Jock;
That ford's sicker, I wat weil.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.
Hoo! hoo! gar raise the Reid Souter, and Ringan's Wat,65
Wi' a broad elshin and a wicker;
I wat weil they'll mak a ford sicker.
Sae, whether they be Elliots or Armstrangs,
Or rough-riding Scots, or rude Johnstones,
Or whether they be frae the Tarras or Ewsdale,70
They maun turn and fight, or try the deeps o' Liddel.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.
"Ah! but they will play ye anither jigg,
For they will out at the big rig,75
And thro' at [Fargy Grame]'s gap."
But I hae another wile for that:
For I hae little Will, and Stalwart Wat,
And lang Aicky, in the Souter Moor,
Wi' his sleuth-dog sits in his watch right sure.80
Shou'd the dog gie a bark,
He'll be out in his sark,
And die or won.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' ta'en.85
Ha! boys!—I see a party appearing—wha's yon?
Methinks it's the [Captain of Bewcastle], and Jephtha's John,
Coming down by the foul steps of [Catlowdie]'s loan:
They'll make a' sicker, come which way they will.
Ha, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',90
My gear's a' ta'en.
[Captain Musgrave], and a' his band,
Are coming down by the Siller-strand,
And the Muckle toun-bell o' Carlisle is rung:
My gear was a' weel won,95
And before it's carried o'er the Border, mony a man's gae down.
Fy, lads! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane.