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That e'er my captain fought on foot,

And I stood looking on.
You two be earls,” said Witherington,

And I a squire alone :
I'll do the best that do I

While I have power to stand :
While I have power to wield my sword,

I'll fight with heart and hand.”
Our English archers bent their bows,

Their hearts were good and true ;
At the first flight of arrows sent,

Full fourscore Scots they slew.
Yet stays Earl Douglas on the bent

As chieftain stout and good ;
As valiant captain, all unmoved,

The shock he firmly stood.
His host he parted had in three,

As leader ware and tried ;
And soon his spearmen on their foes

Bore down on every side.
Throughout the English archery

They dealt full many a wound ;
But still our valiant Englishmen

All firmly kept their ground.
And throwing straight their bows away,

They grasped their swords so bright;
And now sharp blows, a heavy shower

On shields and helmets light.
They closed full fast on every side,

No slackness there was found ;
And many a gallant gentleman

Lay gasping on the ground.
In truth! it was a grief to see

How each one chose his spear,
And how the blood out of their breasts

Did gush like water clear.
At last these two stout earls did mect.

Like captains of great might:
Like lions wode, they laid on lode,

And made a cruel fight:

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They fought until they both did sweat,

With swords of tempered steel ; Until the blood, like drops of rain,

They trickling down did feel. “ Yield thee, Lord Percy,” Douglas saill ;

" In faith I will thee bring Where thou shalt high advanced be

By James, our Scottish king :
Thy ransom I will freely give,

And this report of thee,
Thou art the most courageous knight

That ever I did see.”
No, Douglas,” saith Earl Percy then.

Thy proffer I do scorn ;
I will not yield to any Scot

That ever yet was born.”
With that there came an arrow keen

Out of an English bow,
Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart,

A deep and deadly blow; Who never spake more words than these

“Fight on, my merry men all ; For why my life is at an end ;

Lord Percy sees my fall.”
Then leaving life, Earl Percy took

The dead man by the hand ;
And said, “Earl Douglas, for thy life

Would I had lost my land.
In truth ! my very heart doth bleed

With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure a more redoubted knight

Mischance did never take.”
A knight amongst the Scots there was,

Who saw Earl Douglas die,
Who straight in wrath did vow revenge

Upon the Earl Percy :
Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he called

Who, with a spear full bright,
Well mounted on a gallant steed,

Ran fiercely through the fight ;

And past the English archers all,

Without a dread or fear ;
And through Earl Percy's body then

He thrust his hateful spear ;
With such vehement force and might

He did his body gore,
The staff ran through the other side
A large cloth yard and more.

And the Lord Maxwell in like case

Did with Earl Douglas die :
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,

Scarce fifty-five did fly.
Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,

Went home but fifty-three ;
The rest in Chevy-Chase were slain,

Under the greenwood tree.


The first line that Sir Patrick read,

A loud laugh laughèd he,
The next line that Sir Patrick read,

The tear came to his e'e.
“O wha is this has done this deed,

This ill deed done to me,
To send us out at this time o' the year

To sail upon the sea ?”
They hoisted their sails on a Monday morn

Wi' a' the baste they may ;
And they hae landed in Noroway

Upon the Wodensday.
“Make haste, make haste, my merry men all.

Our ship shall sail the morn,"
Now ever, alack, my master dear,

I fear a deadly storm.
I saw the new moon late yestreen,

Wi' the auld moon in her arm;
And I fear, I fear, my master dear,

That we shall come to harm !"
They hadna sailed a league, a league,

A league, but barely three,
When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud

And gurly grew the sea.
The ropes they brak, and the top-masts lap,

It was sic a deadly storm;
And the waves came o'er the broken ship,

Till a' her sides were torn.
O laith, laith were our guid Scots lords

To weet their leathern shoon,
But lang ere a' the play was o’er,

They wat their heads abune. O lang, lang may the ladies sit,

Wi' their fans into their hand,
Or e'er they see Sir Patrick Spens

Come sailing to the land.
O lang, lang may their ladies sit,

Wi' their gowd kaims in their hair,
A’ waiting for their ain dear lords,

For them they'll see nae mair


Half owre, half owre to Aberdour,

It's fifty fathom deep,
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,

Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.

Born 1465.

ÜXilliam Dunbar. Died about 1525.

DONBAR, one of the greatest of the elder Scottish poets, was educated in St Andrews, where he took his degree. He became a friar of the Fran. ciscan order, and being a favourite with James IV., he was employed on various important missions. He was one of those sent to London to bring to Scotland the Princess Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., the bride of the Scottish king, and he wrote on the marriage the beautiful poem, The Thrissil and the Rose." For many years after, he seems to have lived at court in intimate communication with James. Besides "The Thistle and Rose” he also wrote “The Golden Terge," Dance," &c. His poems embrace a wide range of subjects—descriptive, allegorical, satirical, comic, and moral Elis and Sir Walter Scott pronounce him to be “the greatest poet Scotland had produced," but his poems have never been popular. He is supposed to have died at the age


of sixty.


From The Thrissil and the Rose."
With that this lady soberly did smile,

And said : Uprise, and do thy observance;
Thou did promit, in Mayis lusty while,

For to describe the Rose of most pleasance.

Go see the birdis how they sing and dance,
Illumined our with orient skyis bright,
Enamelled richly with new azure light.
Dame Nature ordered every bird and beast

Before her Highness sould anon compear.
And every flower of virtue, most and least,

And every herb by field, or far or near,

As they had wont in May, from year to year,
To ber their Maker to make obedience,
Full low inclining with due reverence.
All present were in twinkling of an ee,

Baith beast, and bird, and flower, before the queen ;
And first the lion, greatest of degree,

Was called there, and he most fair to sene,

With a full hardy countenance and keen,
Before dame Nature came, and did incline,
With visage bold, and courage leonine


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