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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Then she cry'd on her women, they quickly came ben: ' Tak' up your rocks, lasses, and fight a' like men !
IX ' Tho' I'm but a woman, to head you I'll try, Nor let these vile Hielandmen steal a' our kye.'
Then up gat the Baron and cry'd for his graith ; Says, ' Lady, I'll gang, tho' to leave you I'm laith.
' Come kiss me, my Peggie, and get me my gun ; For I well may gang out, but I'll never win in.'
When the Baron of Brackley he rade thro' the close, A gallanter gentleman ne'er mounted horse..
Tho' there cam' in with Inverey thirty and three,
There was nane wi' bold Brackley but his brither and he.
xrv Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw : But against four and thirty, wae's me, what was twa?
xv Wi' swords and wi' daggers they did him surround, And they've pierced the bold Brackley wi' mony a wound.
Frae the head o' the Dee to the banks o' the Spey The Gordons may mourn him and ban Inverey.
graith] harness, arms. .784
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