AULD MAITLAND.

* * * * *

  There lived a king in southern land,
  King Edward hight his name;
  Unwordily he wore the crown,
  Till fifty years were gane.

  He had a sister’s son o’s ain,
  Was large of blood and bane;
  And afterward, when he came up,
  Young Edward hight his name.

  One day he came before the king,
  And kneel’d low on his knee—­
  “A boon, a boon, my good uncle,
  “I crave to ask of thee!

  “At our lang wars, in fair Scotland,
  “I fain hae wished to be;
  “If fifteen hundred waled[90] wight men
  “You’ll grant to ride wi’ me.”

  “Thou sail hae thae, thou sail hae mae;
  “I say it sickerlie;
  “And I mysell, an auld gray man,
  “Array’d your host sall see.”

  King Edward rade, King Edward ran—­
  I wish him dool and pyne! 
  Till he had fifteen hundred men
  Assembled on the Tyne.

And thrice as many at Berwicke[91] Were all for battle bound, Who, marching forth with false Dunbar, A ready welcome found.

  They lighted on the banks of Tweed,
  And blew their coals sae het,
  And fired the Merse and Teviotdale,
  All in an evening late.

  As they fared up o’er Lammermore,
  They burned baith up and down,
  Until they came to a darksome house;
  Some call it Leader-Town.

  “Wha hauds this house?” young Edward cry’d,
  “Or wha gies’t ower to me?”
  A gray-hair’d knight set up his head,
  And crackit right crousely: 

  “Of Scotland’s king I haud my house;
  “He pays me meat and fee;
  “And I will keep my gude auld house,
  “While my house will keep me.”

  They laid their sowies to the wall,
  Wi’ mony a heavy peal;
  But he threw ower to them agen
  Baith pitch and tar barrel.

  With springalds, stanes, and gads of airn,
  Amang them fast he threw;
  Till mony of the Englishmen
  About the wall he slew.

  Full fifteen days that braid host lay,
  Sieging Auld Maitland keen,
  Syne they hae left him, hail and fair,
  Within his strength of stane.

  Then fifteen barks, all gaily good,
  Met them upon a day,
  Which they did lade with as much spoil
  As they could bear away.

  “England’s our ain by heritage;
  “And what can us withstand,
  “Now we hae conquer’d fair Scotland,
  “With buckler, bow, and brand?”

  Then they are on to the land o’ France,
  Where auld King Edward lay,
  Burning baith castle, tower, and town,
  That he met in his way,

  Untill he came unto that town,
  Which some call Billop-Grace;
  There were Auld Maitland’s sons, a’ three,
  Learning at school, alas!

  The eldest to the youngest said,
  “O see ye what I see? 
  “Gin a’ be trew yon standard says[92],
  “We’re fatherlesse a’ three.