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No knight in Cumberland so good,
But William may count with him kin and blood;
Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword,
When English blood swelled Ancram's ford;
And but that Lord Dacre's steed was wight,
And bare him ably in the flight,
Himself had seen him dubbed a knight.
For the young heir of Branksome's line,
God be his aid, and God be mine;
Through me no friend shall meet his doom;
Here, while I live, no foe finds room.
Then if thy Lords their purpose urge,
Take our defiance loud and high;
Our slogan is their lyke-wake[1] dirge,
Our moat the grave where they shall lie."
But William may count with him kin and blood;
Knighthood he took of Douglas' sword,
When English blood swelled Ancram's ford;
And but that Lord Dacre's steed was wight,
And bare him ably in the flight,
Himself had seen him dubbed a knight.
For the young heir of Branksome's line,
God be his aid, and God be mine;
Through me no friend shall meet his doom;
Here, while I live, no foe finds room.
Then if thy Lords their purpose urge,
Take our defiance loud and high;
Our slogan is their lyke-wake[1] dirge,
Our moat the grave where they shall lie."
XXIV.
Proud she looked round, applause to claim—
Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame;
Proud she looked round, applause to claim—
Then lightened Thirlestane's eye of flame;
- ↑ Lyke-wake, the watching a corpse previous to interment
