They swapped swords, and they twa swat,
And ay the blood ran down between.
O yield thee, yield thee, Percy, he said,
Or else I vow I’ll lay thee low.
Whom to shall I yield? said Earl Percy;
Now that I see it maun be so.
O yield thee to yon braken bush,
That grows upon yon lilly lee.
As in that bush a bier there be,
For it I’d save thy life and thee.