383
'I care na for mie lyf ane plack'—
Quoth that auld harper sturdilie—
'But this gude harpe upon mie back
Sal ne'er be fylit by ane lyk thee!'
'Thou liest there, thou menstrel wicht!'
Outspak the Laird o' the Newtoun Ha'—
'For ye to death bedene art dicht,
Haif at thee here and mend thy saw!'
Alace, Alace, the harper gude
Was borne back aganis the wa',
And wi' the best o' his auld hertis blude,
They weetit hae the Newtoun Ha'!
Yet did he die wi' harpe in han',
Maist lyk ane menstrel o' degree—
There was na ane in a' the land
Might matche wi' him o' the North countree!
Erie Douglas chauncit to ryde therebye—
Ane gallant gentleman was he—
Wi' four score o' weel harnessit men,
To harrie in the South countree.
He haltit at the Newtoun Ha'—
'Quhat novelles now, bauld Laird, hae ye?'
