The Oxford Book of Ballads - online book

A Selection Of The Best English Lyric Ballads Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch

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'Puir faint-hearted thief!' cried the Laird's ain Jock, ' There'll nae man die but him that's fie ;
I'll guide ye a' right safely thro'; Lift ye the pris'ner on ahint me.'
Wi' that the water they hae ta'en,
By ane's and twa's they a' swam thro';
' Here are we a' safe,' quo' the Laird's Jock, ' And, puir faint Wat, what think ye now r'
They scarce the other brae had won,
When twenty men they saw pursue; Frae Newcastle toun they had been sent,
A' English lads baith stout and true.
But when the Land-sergeant the water saw,
' It winna ride, my lads,' says he; Then cried aloud—' The prisoner take,
But leave the fetters, I pray, to me!'
xxxv ' I wat weel no,' quo' the Laird's ain Jock,
' I'll keep them, shoon to my mare to be: My gude bay mare—for I am sure,
She has bought them a' right dear frae thee.'—
xxxvi Sae now they are on to Liddesdale,
E'en as fast as they could them hie; The prisoner is brought to his ain fireside,
And there o' his aims they mak him free.
fie] fey, doomed.
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