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A

YOURR'rrL marvel when I tell ye o
Our noble Burly and his train,
When last he marchd up through the land,
Wi sax-and-twenty westland men.
Than they I neer o braver heard,
For they had a' baith wit and skill;
They proved right well, as I heard tell,
As they cam up oer Loudoun Hill.
Weel prosper a' the gospel-lads
That are into the west countrie
Ay wicked Claverse to demean,
And ay an ill dead may he die!
For he's drawn up i battle rank,
An that baith soon an hastilie;
But they wha live till simmer come,
Some bludie days for this will see.
But up spak cruel Claverse then,
Wi hastie wit an wicked skill,
'Gae fire on yon westlan men;
I think it is my sovreign's will.'
But up bespake his cornet then,
'It's be wi nae consent o me;
I ken I'll neer come back again,
An mony mae as weel as me.
'There is not ane of a' yon men
But wha is worthy other three;
There is na ane amang them a'
That in his cause will stap to die.
'An as for Burly, him I knaw;
He's a man of honour, birth, an fame;
Gie him a sword into his hand,
He'll fight thysel an other ten.'
But up spake wicked Claverse then-+--+-
I wat his heart it raise fu hie-+--+-
And he has cry'd, that a' might hear,
'Man, ye hae sair deceived me.
'I never kend the like afore,
Na, never since I came frae hame,
That you sae cowardly here suld prove,
An yet come of a noble Gra+eme.'
But up bespake his cornet then,
'Since that it is your honour's will,
Mysel shall be the foremost man
That shall gie fire on Loudoun Hill.
'Your command I'll lead them on,
But yet wi nae consent o me;
For weel I ken I'll neer return,
And mony mae as weel as me.'
Then up he drew in battle rank-+--+-
I wat he had a bonny train-+--+-
But the first time that bullets flew
Ay he lost twenty o his men.
Then back he came the way he gaed,
I wat right soon an suddenly;
He gave command amang his men,
And sent them back, and bade them flee.
Then up came Burly, bauld an stout,
Wi 's little train o westland men,
Wha mair than either aince or twice
In Edinburgh confind had been.
They hae been up to London sent,
An yet they're a' come safely down;
Sax troop o horsemen they hae beat,
And chased them into Glasgow town.

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This page was imported from Wikisource. “The English and Scottish Popular Ballads” by Francis James Child (1882) is in the public domain; the text is as transcribed and proofread by Wikisource's volunteers.

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收录于这些专栏The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

语言English

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