XIX.
Syne he has gane far hynd out o'er[483] 145
Lord Chattan's land sae wide;
That lord a worthy wight was ay,
When faes his courage sey'd:[484]
Of Pictish race by mother's side,
When Picts rul'd Caledon, 150
Lord Chattan claim'd the princely maid,
When he sav'd Pictish crown.
XX.
Now with his fierce and stalwart train,
He reach'd a rising hight,
Quhair braid encampit on the dale, 155
Norss menzie[485] lay in sicht.
"Yonder my valiant sons and feirs[486]
Our raging revers[487] wait
On the unconquert Scottish sward
To try with us their fate. 160
XXI.
"Make orisons to him that sav'd
Our sauls upon the rude;[488]
Syne[489] bravely shaw your veins are fill'd
With Caledonian blude."
Then furth he drew his trusty glave,[490] 165
While thousands all around
Drawn frae their sheaths glanc'd in the sun;
And loud the bougles sound.
XXII.
To joyn his king adoun the hill
In hast his merch he made, 170
While, playand pibrochs, minstralls meit[491]
Afore him stately strade.
"Thrice welcome valiant stoup of weir,[492]
Thy nations shield and pride;
Thy king nae reason has to fear 175
When thou art by his side."
XXIII.
When bows were bent and darts were thrawn;
For thrang scarce cou'd they flee;
The darts clove arrows as they met,
The arrows dart[493] the tree. 180
Lang did they rage and fight fu' fierce,
With little skaith to mon,
But bloody bloody was the field,
Ere that lang day was done.