8
Of twenty hundred Englishmen
Scarce fifty-five did flee;
The rest were slain at Chevy-chase.
Under the green-wood tree.
Next day did many widows come
Their husbands to bewail—
They washed their wounds with brinished tears,
But all could not prevail.
Their bodies bathed in purple blood,
They carried them away;
They kissed them dead a thousand times,
When they were cold as clay.
The news were brought to Edinburgh,
Where Scotland's king did reign,
That brave Earl Douglas suddenly,
Was by an arrow slain.
Now God be with him, said the king,
Sith ’twill no better be—
I trust I have in my realm
Five hundred good as he.
Like tidings to king Henry came.
Within as short a space,
That Percy of Northumberland,
Was slain at Chevy-chase.
O heavy news, king Henry said,
England can witness be—
I have not any captain more
Of such account as he.
Now of the rest of small account,
Did many hundreds die;
Thus ends the battle of Chevy-chase,
Made by the Earl Percy.
