That never a foot would flee;
Sir Hew Maxwell, a lord he was,
With the Douglas did he dee.
So on the morrow they made them biers
Of birch and hazel so gray;
Many widows with weepng tears
Came to fetch their makes away.
Tivydale may carp of care,
Northumberland may make great moan,
For two such captains as slain were there,