But fye gar cry on Willie,my son,And see that he come to me speedilie!
"Gar warn the water,braid and wide,Gar warn it soon and hastily!
They that winna ride for Telfer's kye,Let them never look in the face o'me!
"Warn Wat o'Harden,and his sons,Wi'them will Borthwick water ride;Warn Gaudilands,and Allanhaugh,And Gilmanscleugh,and Commonside.
"Ride by the gate at Priesthaughswire,And warn the Currors o'the Lee;As ye come down the Hermitage Slack,Warn doughty Willie o'Gorrinbery."
The Scots they rade,the Scots they ran,Sae starkly and sae steadilie!
And aye the ower-word o'the thrang,Was-"Rise for Branksome readilie!"
The gear was driven the Frostylee up,Frae the Frostylee unto the plain,Whan Willie has looked his men before,And saw the kye right fast driving.
"Wha drives thir kye?"'gan Willie say,"To mak an outspeckle o'me?"
"It's I,the captain o'Bewcastle,Willie;I winna layne my name for thee."
"O will ye let Telfer's kye gae back,Or will ye do aught for regard o'me?
Or,by the faith o'my body,"quo'Willie Scott,"I se ware my dame's cauf's-skin on thee!"
"I winna let the kye gae back,Neither for thy love,nor yet thy fear,But I will drive Jamie Telfer's kye,In spite of every Scot that's here."
"Set on them,lads!"quo'Willie than,"Fye,lads,set on them cruellie!
For ere they win to the Ritterford,Mony a toom saddle there sall be!
But Willie was stricken ower the head,And through the knapscap the sword has gane;And Harden grat for very rage,Whan Willie on the ground lay slain.
But he's ta'en aff his gude steel-cap,And thrice he's waved it in the air-The Dinlay snaw was ne'er mair white,Nor the lyart locks of Harden's hair.
"Revenge!revenge!"auld Wat 'gan cry;"Fye,lads,lay on them cruellie!
We'll ne'er see Tiviotside again,Or Willie's death revenged shall be."
O mony a horse ran masterless,The splintered lances flew on hie;But or they wan to the Kershope ford,The Scots had gotten the victory.
John o'Brigham there was slain,And John o'Barlow,as I hear say;And thirty mae o'the captain's men,Lay bleeding on the grund that day.
The captain was run thro'the thick of the thigh-And broken was his right leg bane;If he had lived this hundred year,He had never been loved by woman again.
"Hae back thy kye!"the captain said;"Dear kye,I trow,to some they be!
For gin I suld live a hundred years,There will ne'er fair lady smile on me."
Then word is gane to the captain's bride,Even in the bower where that she lay,That her lord was prisoner in enemy's land,Since into Tividale he had led the way.
"I wad lourd have had a winding-sheet,And helped to put it ower his head,Ere he had been disgraced by the Border Scot,When he ower Liddel his men did lead!"
There was a wild gallant amang us a',His name was Watty wi'the Wudspurs,Cried-"On for his house in Stanegirthside,If ony man will ride with us!"
When they cam to the Stanegirthside,They dang wi'trees,and burst the door;They loosed out a'the captain's kye,And set them forth our lads before.
There was an auld wife ayont the fire,A wee bit o'the captain's kin-"Wha daur loose out the captain's kye,Or answer to him and his men?"
"It's I,Watty Wudspurs,loose the kye,I winna layne my name frae thee!
And I will loose out the captain's kye,In scorn of a'his men and he."
When they cam to the fair Dodhead,They were a wellcum sight to see!
For instead of his ain ten milk-kye,Jamie Telfer has gotten thirty and three.
And he has paid the rescue shot,Baith wi'goud,and white monie;And at the burial o'Willie Scott,I wot was mony a weeping e'e.