‘I hae se’en uncles in the north,
They gang baith proud an lordly;
I’d see them a’ tread down afore my eyes
Afore I lose my Geordie.’
20
Then out an spak an English lord,
The ill gae wi his bodie!
‘It’s I gard hang Sir Francie Grey,
An I’ll soon gar hang your Geordie.’
21