They rowd hir in a pair o' fheits,

And towd hir owre the wa:

But on the point of Gordons fpear,
She gat a deadlye fa.

O bonnie bonnie was her mouth,
And cherry wer hir chieks,
And clear clear was hir zellow hair,
Whereon the reid bluid dreips.

Then wi' his fpear he turnd hir owre,
O gin her face was wan!
He fayd, Ze are the firft that eir
I wisht alive again.

He turned hir owre and owre again,
O gin hir skin was whyte!
I might ha fpared that bonnie face
To hae been fum mans delyte.

Bufk and boun, my mirry men a',
For ill dooms I do guefs;
I cannae luik in that bonnie face,
As it lyes on the grass.

Thame, luiks to freits, my mafter deir,
Then freits wil follow thame:

Let it nier be faid brave Edom o' Gordon
Was daunted by a dame.

But quhen the ladye see the fire

Cum flaming owre hir head,
She wept and kist her children twain,
Sayd, Bairns, we been but dead.

The Gordon then his bougill blew,

And faid, Aw', awa;

This houfe o' the Rodes is a' in flame, I hauld it time to ga'.

O then befpyed hir ain dear lord,

As he came owre the lee; He fied his cafile all in a blaze So far as he could fee.

Then fair, O fair his Mind mifgave,
And all his hart was wae:
Put on, put on, my wighty men,

Sa faft as ze can gae.

Put on, put on, my wighty men,

So faft as ze can drie;

For he that is hindmost of the thrang,

Sall nier get guid o' me.

Than fum they rade, and fum they rin,
Fore faft out-owre the bent;
But eir the foremost could get up,

Baith lady and babes were brent.

He wrang his hands, he rent his hair,
And wept teenefu' muid:

O traitors for this cruel deid

Ze fall weip teirs o' bluid.

And after Gordon he is gane,
Sa faft as he micht drie;

And foon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid,

He's wroken his dear ladie.

KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR

I

MAID.

Read that once in Affrica

A princely wight did raine,

Who had to name Cophetua,
As poets they did faine:

From natures lawes he did decline,
For fure he was not of my mind,
He cared not for woman-kinde,
But did them all difdaine.
But, marke, what hapned on a day.
As he out of his window lay,
He faw a beggar all in gray,

The which did caufe his paine.

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The blinded boy, that shootes so trim,

From heaven downe did hie;

He drew a dart and fhot at him,
In place where he did lye:

Which foone did pierfe him to the quicke,
And when he felt the arrow pricke,
Which in his tender heart did flicke,
He looketh as he would dye.

What fudden chance is this, quoth he,
That I to love muft fubje&t be,
Which never thereto would agree,
But ftill did it defie?

Then from the window he did come,
And laid him on his bed,

A thoufand heapes of care did runne
Within his troubled head:

For now he meanes to crave her love,
And now he feekes which way to proove
How he his fancie might remoove,

And not this beggar wed.

But Cupid had him fo in fnare,
That this poore begger muft prepare

A falve to cure him of his care,
Or els he would be dead.

And, as he mufing thus did lye,
He thought for to devife

How he might have her companye,
That fo did 'maze his eyes.

I

In thee, quoth he, doth reft my life,
For furely thou shalt be my wife;
Or elfe this hand with bloody knife
The Gods fhall fure fuffice.

Then from his bed he foon arose.
And to his pallace gate he goes:
Full little then this begger knowes
When the the king espies.

The gods preferve your majesty
The beggers all gan cry:
Vouchfafe to give your charity
Our childrens food to buy.

The king to them his purffe did caft,
And they to part it made great haste,
The filly woman was the last

That after them did hye.

The king he cal'd her back againe, And unto her he gave his chaine, And faid, With us you fhal remaine Till fuch time as we dye:

For thou, quoth he, fhalt be my wife, And honoured for my queene; With thee I meane to lead my life, As fhortly fhall be feene:

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