hy:
The child may rue that is unborn, it was the more pity.
There was slain with the Lord Percy Sir John of Agerstone,
Sir Roger the hinde Hartley, Sir William the bold Herone,
Sir George the worthy Lumley, a knight of great renown,
Sir Ralph the rich Rugby, with dints were beaten down;
For Witherington my heart was wo, that ever he slain should be,
For when both his leggis were hewen in two, yet he kneeled and fought
on his knee.
There was slain with the doughty Douglas Sir Hugh the Montgomer-y;
Sir Davy Lewdale, that worthy was, his sister's son was he;
Sir Charles of Murray in that place that never a foot would flee;
Sir Hugh Maxwell, a lord he was, with the Douglas did he dee.
So on the morrow they made them biers of birch and hazel so gay;
Many widows with weeping tears came to fetch their makis away.
Tivydale may carp of care, Northumberland may make great moan,
For two such captains as slain were there on the March parti shall
never be none.
Word is comen to Edinborough to Jamy the Scottish king,
That doughty Douglas, lieutenant of the Marches, he lay slain Cheviot
within.
His hand-es did he weal and wring; he said, "Alas! and woe is me:
Such another captain Scotland within," he said, "yea faith should
never be."
Word is comen to lovely London, to the fourth Harry our king,
That Lord Perc-y, lieutenant of the Marches, he lay slain Cheviot
within.
"God have mercy on his soul," said King Harry, "good Lord, if thy will
it be,
I have a hundred captains in England," he said, "as good as ever was