And clothe you both in solemn vest,
And over the mountains haste along,
Lest wandering folk that are abroad
Detain you on the valley road.
And when he has cross'd the Irthing flood,
My merry bard! he hastes, he hastes
Up Knorren moor, through Halegarth Wood,
And reaches soon that castle good
Which stands and threatens Scotland's wastes.
"Bard Bracy! bard Bracy! your horses are fleet,