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For he has kill'd a gallant squire, Whase friends are out to tak him.

Now he has gane to the house o' Mar, 5 Whar nane might seik to find him; To see his dear he did repair, Weining she wold befreind him.

"Whar are ye gaing Sir James," she said, "O whar awa are ye riding?" 10 "I maun be bound to a foreign land, And now I'm under hiding.

"Whar sall I gae, whar sall I rin, Whar sall I rin to lay me?

For I ha kill'd a gallant squire, 15 And his friends seik to slay me."

"O gae ye down to yon laigh house, I sall pay there your lawing; And as I am your leman trew, I'll meet ye at the dawing." 20

He turned him richt and round about, And rowd him in his brechan: And laid him doun to tak a sleip, In the lawlands o' Buleighan.

He was nae weil gane out o' sicht, 25 Nor was he past Milstrethen, Whan four and twenty belted knichts Cam riding owr the Leathen.

"O ha ye seen Sir James the Rose, The young heir o' Buleighan? 30 For he has kill'd a gallant squire, And we are sent to tak him."

"Yea, I ha seen Sir James," she said, "He past by here on Monday; Gin the steed be swift that he rides on, 35 He's past the Hichts of Lundie."

But as wi speid they rade awa, She leudly cryd behind them; "Gin ye'll gie me a worthy meid, I'll tell ye whar to find him." 40

"O tell fair maid, and on our band, Ye'se get his purse and brechan."

"He's in the bank aboon the mill, In the lawlands o' Buleighan."

Than out and spak Sir John the Graham, 45 Who had the charge a keiping, "It's neer be said, my stalwart feres, We kill'd him whan a sleiping."

They seized his braid sword and his targe, And closely him surrounded: 50 "O pardon! mercy! gentlemen,"

He then fou loudly sounded.

"Sic as ye gae, sic ye sall hae, Nae grace we shaw to thee can."

"Donald my man, wait till I fa, 55 And ye sall hae my brechan; Ye'll get my purse thouch fou o' gowd To tak me to Loch Lagan."

Syne they take out his bleiding heart, And set it on a speir; 60 Then tuke it to the house o' Mar, And shawd it to his deir.

"We cold nae gie Sir James's purse, We cold nae gie his brechan; But ye sall ha his bleeding heart, 65 Bot and his bleeding tartan."

"Sir James the Rose, O for thy sake My heart is now a breaking, Curs'd be the day I wrocht thy wae, Thou brave heir of Buleighan!" 70

Then up she raise, and furth she gaes, And, in that hour o' tein, She wanderd to the dowie glen, And nevir mair was sein.

GRaeME AND BEWICK.

From _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_, iii. 69. A single improved reading is adopted from a Newcastle chap-book.

"Given, in the first edition, from the recitation of a gentleman, who professed to have forgotten some verses. These have, in the present edition, been partly restored, from a copy obtained by the recitation of an ostler in Carlisle, which has also furnished some slight alterations."

"The ballad is remarkable, as containing, probably, the very latest allusion to the institution of brotherhood in arms, which was held so sacred in the days of chivalry, and whose origin may be traced up to the Scythian ancestors of Odin." SCOTT.

Gude Lord Graeme is to Carlisle gane, Sir Robert Bewick there met he, And arm in arm to the wine they did go, And they drank till they were baith merrie.

Gude Lord Graeme has ta'en up the cup, 5 "Sir Robert Bewick, and here's to thee!

And here's to our twae sons at hame!

For they like us best in our ain countrie."--

"O were your son a lad like mine, And learn'd some books that he could read, 10 They might hae been twae brethren bauld, And they might hae bragged the Border side.

"But your son's a lad, and he is but bad, And billie to my son he canna be;"

"I sent him to the schools, and he wadna learn;[L15] 15 I bought him books, and he wadna read;[L16]

But my blessing shall he never earn, Till I see how his arm can defend his head."--

Gude Lord Graeme has a reckoning call'd, A reckoning then called he; 20 And he paid a crown, and it went roun', It was all for the gude wine and free.[L22]

And he has to the stable gane, Where there stude thirty steeds and three; He's ta'en his ain horse amang them a', 25 And hame he rade sae manfullie.

"Welcome, my auld father!" said Christie Graeme, "But where sae lang frae hame were ye?"-- "It's I hae been at Carlisle town, And a baffled man by thee I be. 30

"I hae been at Carlisle town, Where Sir Robert Bewick, he met me; He says ye're a lad, and ye are but bad, And billie to his son ye canna be.

"I sent ye to the schools, and ye wadna learn; 35 I bought ye books, and ye wadna read; Therefore my blessing ye shall never earn, Till I see with Bewick thou save thy head."

"Now, God forbid, my auld father, That ever sic a thing suld be! 40 Billie Bewick was my master, and I was his scholar,[L41]

And aye sae weel as he learned me."

"O hald thy tongue, thou limmer loon, And of thy talking let me be!

If thou does na end me this quarrel soon, 45 There is my glove, I'll fight wi' thee."

Then Christie Graeme he stooped low Unto the ground, you shall understand;-- "O father, put on your glove again, The wind has blown it from your hand?" 50

"What's that thou says, thou limmer loon?

How dares thou stand to speak to me?

If thou do not end this quarrel soon, There's my right hand thou shalt fight with me."--

Then Christie Graeme's to his chamber gane, 55 To consider weel what then should be; Whether he should fight with his auld father, Or with his billie Bewick, he.

"If I suld kill my billie dear, God's blessing I shall never win; 60 But if I strike at my auld father, I think 'twald be a mortal sin.

"But if I kill my billie dear, It is God's will, so let it be; But I make a vow, ere I gang frae hame, 65 That I shall be the next man's die."--

Then he's put on's back a gude auld jack, And on his head a cap of steel, And sword and buckler by his side; O gin he did not become them weel! 70

We'll leave off talking of Christie Graeme, And talk of him again belive; And we will talk of bonny Bewick, Where he was teaching his scholars five.

When he had taught them well to fence, 75 And handle swords without any doubt, He took his sword under his arm, And he walk'd his father's close about.

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