“For Scotland’s conquer’d, up and down;
  “Landmen we’ll never be: 
  “Now, will ye go, my brethren two,
  “And try some jeopardy?”

  Then they hae saddled twa black horse,
  Twa black horse, and a grey;
  And they are on to King Edward’s host,
  Before the dawn of day.

  When they arriv’d before the host,
  They hover’d on the lay—­
  “Wilt thou lend me our king’s standard,
  “To bear a little way?”

  “Where was thou bred? where was thou born? 
  “Where, or in what countrie?”
  “In north of England I was born: 
  (It needed him to lie.)

  “A knight me gat, a lady bore,
  “I’m a squire of high renowne;
  I well may bear’t to any king,
  “That ever yet wore crowne.”

  “He ne’er came of an Englishman,
  “Had sic an e’e or bree;
  “But thou art the likest Auld Maitland,
  “That ever I did see.

  “But sick a gloom, on ae brow-head,
  “Grant I ne’er see agane! 
  “For mony of our men he slew,
  “And mony put to pain.”

  When Maitland heard his father’s name,
  An angry man was he! 
  Then, lifting up a gilt dagger,
  Hung low down by his knee,

  He stabb’d the knight, the standard bore,
  He stabb’d him cruellie;
  Then caught the standard by the neuk,
  And fast away rode he.

  “Now, is’t na time, brothers,” he cried,
  “Now, is’t na time to flee?”
  “Aye, by my sooth!” they baith replied,
  “We’ll bear you company.”

  The youngest turn’d him in a path,
  And drew a burnished brand,
  And fifteen of the foremost slew,
  Till back the lave did stand.

  He spurr’d the gray into the path,
  Till baith his sides they bled—­
  “Gray! thou maun carry me away,
  “Or my life lies in wad!”

  The captain lookit ower the wa’,
  About the break o’ day;
  There he beheld the three Scots lads,
  Pursued along the way.

  “Pull up portcullize! down draw-brigg! 
  “My nephews are at hand;
  And they sall lodge wi’ me to-night,
  “In spite of all England.”

  Whene’er they came within the yate,
  They thrust their horse them frae,
  And took three lang spears in their hands,
  Saying, “Here sall come nae mae!”.

  And they shot out, and they shot in,
  Till it was fairly day;
  When mony of the Englishmen
  About the draw-brigg lay.

  Then they hae yoked carts and wains,
  To ca’ their dead away,
  And shot auld dykes aboon the lave,
  In gutters where they lay.

  The king, at his pavilion door,
  Was heard aloud to say,
  “Last night, three o’ the lads o’ France
  “My standard stole away.

  “Wi’ a fause tale, disguised, they came,
  “And wi’ a fauser trayne;
  “And to regain my gaye standard,
  “These men were a’ down slayne.”