Stately stept he east the wa,
And stately stept he west,
Full seventy zeirs he now had sene,
With skerss sevin zeirs of rest.
He livit quhen Britons breach of faith
Wroucht Scotland meikle wae.
And ay his sword told to their cost,
He was their deidly fae.
II.
Hie on a hill his castle stude,
With halls and touris a hicht,
And guidly chambers fair to se,
Quair he lodgit mony a knicht.
His Dame sa peirless anes and fair,
For chast and bewtie deimt,
Nae marrow had in all the land,
Saif elenor the queen.
Full thirtein sons to him scho bare,
All men of valour stout;
In bluidy ficht with sword in hand,
Nyne lost their lives bot doubt;
Four zit remain, lang may they live
To stand my liege and land:
Hie was their fame, hie was their micht,
And hie was their command.
IV.
Great luve they bare to fairly fair,
Their sister saft and deir,
Her girdle shawd her middle gimp;
And gowden glist her hair.
Quhat waefou wae hir bewtie bred?
Waefou to zung and auld,
Waefou I trow to kyth and kin,
As story ever tauld.
V.
The king of Norse in summer tyde,
Puft up with power and micht,
Landed in fair Scotland the yle,
With mony a hardy knicht:
The tydings to our gude Scots king
Came, as he sat at dyne,
With noble chiefs in braif aray,
Drinking the blude-reid wyne.