Instead o' dancers to dance a dance, Or minstrels for to play, Were four-and-twenty well-wight men Turn'd birds o' feathers gray;

Her seven sons in seven swans, Aboon their heads to flee; And he himsell a gay gos-hawk, A bird o' high degree.

This flook o' birds took flight and flew Beyond the raging sea; They landed near the Earl Mar's castle, Took shelter in every tree.

They were a flock o' pretty birds, Right wondrous to be seen; The weddin'eers they looked at them Whilst walking on the green.

These birds flew up frae bush and tree, And, lighted on the ha'; And, when the wedding-train cam' forth, Flew down amang them a'.

The storks they seized the boldest men, That they could not fight or flee; The swans they bound the bridegroom fast Unto a green aik tree.

They flew around the bride-maidens, Around the bride's own head; And, wi' the twinkling o' an ee, The bride and they were fled.

There's ancient men at weddings been For eighty years or more; But siccan a curious wedding-day They never saw before.

For naething could the company do, Nor naething could they say; But they saw a flock o' pretty birds That took their bride away.

OLD BALLAD.

_Chevy-Chace_

G.o.d prosper long our n.o.ble king, Our lives and safeties all; A woful hunting once there did In Chevy-Chace befall.

To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Percy took his way; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day.

The stout Earl of Northumberland A vow to G.o.d did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer days to take,--

The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chace To kill and bear away.

These tidings to Earl Douglas came, In Scotland where he lay;

Who sent Earl Percy present word He would prevent his sport.

The English earl, not fearing that, Did to the woods resort

With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran To chase the fallow deer; On Monday they began to hunt Ere daylight did appear;

And long before high noon they had A hundred fat bucks slain; Then having dined, the drovers went To rouse the deer again.

The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure; And all their rear, with special care, That day was guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods, The nimble deer to take, That with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make.

Lord Percy to the quarry went, To view the slaughtered deer; Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised This day to meet me here;

"But if I thought he would not come, No longer would I stay;"

With that a brave young gentleman Thus to the Earl did say:

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armor bright; Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight;

"All men of pleasant Teviotdale, Fast by the river Tweed;"

"Then cease your sports," Earl Percy said, "And take your bows with speed;

"And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance; For never was there champion yet, In Scotland or in France,

"That ever did on horseback come, But if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man, With him to break a spear."

Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of his company, Whose armor shone like gold.

"Show me," said he, "whose men you be, That hunt so boldly here, That, without my consent, do chase And kill my fallow-deer."

The first man that did answer make, Was n.o.ble Percy he-- Who said, "We list not to declare, Nor show whose men we be:

"Yet will we spend our dearest blood Thy chiefest harts to slay."

Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say:

"Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die; I know thee well, an earl thou art-- Lord Percy, so am I.

"But trust me, Percy, pity it were, And great offence, to kill Any of these our guiltless men, For they have done no ill.

"Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside."

"Accursed be he," Earl Percy said, "By whom this is denied."

Then stepped a gallant squire forth, Witherington was his name, Who said, "I would not have it told To Henry, our king, for shame,

"That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stood looking on.

You two be earls," said Witherington, "And I a squire alone;

"I'll do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand; While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fight with heart and hand."

Our English archers bent their bows-- Their hearts were good and true; At the first flight of arrows sent, Full fourscore Scots they slew.

Yet stays Earl Douglas on the bent, As Chieftain stout and good; As valiant Captain, all unmoved, The shock he firmly stood.

His host he parted had in three, As leader ware and tried; And soon his spearmen on their foes Bore down on every side.

Throughout the English archery They dealt full many a wound; But still our valiant Englishmen All firmly kept their ground.

And throwing straight their bows away, They grasped their swords so bright; And now sharp blows, a heavy shower, On shields and helmets light.

They closed full fast on every side-- No slackness there was found; And many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.

In truth, it was a grief to see How each one chose his spear, And how the blood out of their b.r.e.a.s.t.s Did gush like water clear.

At last these two stout earls did meet; Like captains of great might, Like lions wode, they laid on lode, And made a cruel fight.

They fought until they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steel, Until the blood, like drops of rain, They trickling down did feel.