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That e'er my captain fought on foot,
And I stood looking on.
“And I a squire alone :
I'll fight with heart and hand.”
Their hearts were good and true ;
Full fourscore Scots they slew.
As chieftain stout and good ;
The shock he firmly stood.
As leader ware and tried ;
Bore down on every side.
They dealt full many a wound ;
All firmly kept their ground.
They grasped their swords so bright;
On shields and helmets light.
No slackness there was found ;
Lay gasping on the ground.
How each one chose his spear,
Did gush like water clear.
Like captains of great might:
And made a cruel fight:
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 :
And this report of thee,
That ever I did see.”
Thy proffer I do scorn ;
That ever yet was born.”
Out of an English bow,
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.”
The dead man by the hand ;
Would I had lost my land.
With sorrow for thy sake;
Mischance did never take.”
Who saw Earl Douglas die,
Upon the Earl Percy :
Who, with a spear full bright,
Ran fiercely through the fight ;
And past the English archers all,
Without a dread or fear ;
He thrust his hateful spear ;
He did his body gore,
Did with Earl Douglas die :
Scarce fifty-five did fly.
Went home but fifty-three ;
Under the greenwood tree.
The first line that Sir Patrick read,
A loud laugh laughèd he,
The tear came to his e'e.
This ill deed done to me,
To sail upon the sea ?”
Wi' a' the baste they may ;
Upon the Wodensday.
Our ship shall sail the morn,"
I fear a deadly storm.
Wi' the auld moon in her arm;
That we shall come to harm !"
A league, but barely three,
And gurly grew the sea.
It was sic a deadly storm;
Till a' her sides were torn.
To weet their leathern shoon,
They wat their heads abune. O lang, lang may the ladies sit,
Wi' their fans into their hand,
Come sailing to the land.
Wi' their gowd kaims in their hair,
For them they'll see nae mair
Half owre, half owre to Aberdour,
It's fifty fathom deep,
Wi' the Scots lords at his feet.
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
ASSEMBLAGE OF THE BEASTS AND FLOWERS.
From “ The Thrissil and the Rose."
And said : Uprise, and do thy observance;
For to describe the Rose of most pleasance.
Go see the birdis how they sing and dance,
Before her Highness sould anon compear.
And every herb by field, or far or near,
As they had wont in May, from year to year,
Baith beast, and bird, and flower, before the queen ;
Was called there, and he most fair to sene,
With a full hardy countenance and keen,