‘[Father, co]uld ye not drunk your wine at home,
[And le]tten me and my brother be?
51
‘Nay, dig a grave both low and wide,
And in it us two pray bury;
But bury my bully Grahame on the sun-side,
For I’m sure he’s won the victory.’
52
Now we’ll leave talking of these two brethren,
In Carlisle town where they lie slain,