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Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

Page 60

by Homer

“Thy ransome I will freely giue,

  and this report of thee,

  Thou art the most couragious knight 135

  [that ever I did see.]”

  “Noe, Douglas!” quoth Erle Percy then,

  “thy profer I doe scorne;

  I will not yeelde to any Scott

  that euer yett was borne!” 140

  With that there came an arrow keene,

  out of an English bow,

  Which stroke Erle Douglas on the brest

  a deepe and deadlye blow.

  Who neuer sayd more words than these; 145

  “Fight on, my merry men all!

  For why, my life is att [an] end,

  lord Pearcy sees my fall.”

  Then leauing liffe, Erle Pearcy tooke

  the dead man by the hand; 150

  Who said, “Erle Dowglas, for thy life,

  Wold I had lost my land!

  “O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed

  for sorrow for thy sake,

  For sure, a more redoubted knight 155

  mischance cold neuer take.”

  A knight amongst the Scotts there was

  which saw Erle Douglas dye,

  Who streight in hart did vow revenge

  vpon the Lord Pearcye. 160

  Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he called,

  who, with a spere full bright,

  Well mounted on a gallant steed,

  ran feircly through the fight,

  And past the English archers all, 165

  without all dread or feare,

  And through Erle Percyes body then

  he thrust his hatfull spere.

  With such a vehement force and might

  his body he did gore, 170

  The staff ran through the other side

  a large cloth-yard and more.

  Thus did both those nobles dye,

  whose courage none cold staine;

  An English archer then perceiued 175

  the noble erle was slaine.

  He had [a] good bow in his hand,

  made of a trusty tree;

  An arrow of a cloth-yard long

  to the hard head haled hee. 180

  Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye

  his shaft full right he sett;

  The grey-goose-winge that was there-on

  in his harts bloode was wett.

  This fight from breake of day did last 185

  till setting of the sun,

  For when the rung the euening-bell

  the battele scarse was done.

  With stout Erle Percy there was slaine

  Sir Iohn of Egerton, 190

  Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William,

  Sir Iames, that bold barron.

  And with Sir George and Sir Iames,

  both knights of good account,

  Good Sir Raphe Rebbye there was slaine, 195

  whose prowesse did surmount.

  For Witherington needs must I wayle

  as one in dolefull dumpes,

  For when his leggs were smitten of,

  he fought vpon his stumpes. 200

  And with Erle Dowglas there was slaine

  Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,

  And Sir Charles Morrell, that from feelde

  one foote wold neuer flee;

  Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliffe tow, 205

  his sisters sonne was hee;

  Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed,

  but saved he cold not bee.

  And the Lord Maxwell, in like case,

  with Douglas he did dye; 210

  Of twenty hundred Scottish speeres,

  scarce fifty-fiue did flye.

  Of fifteen hundred Englishmen

  went home but fifty-three;

  The rest in Cheuy Chase were slaine, 215

  vnder the greenwoode tree.

  Next day did many widdowes come

  their husbands to bewayle;

  They washt their wounds in brinish teares,

  but all wold not prevayle. 220

  Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple blood,

  the bore with them away;

  They kist them dead a thousand times

  ere the were cladd in clay.

  The newes was brought to Eddenborrow, 225

  where Scottlands king did rayne,

  That braue Erle Douglas soddainlye

  was with an arrow slaine.

  “O heauy newes!” King Iames can say;

  “Scotland may wittenesse bee 230

  I haue not any captaine more

  of such account as hee.”

  Like tydings to King Henery came,

  within as short a space,

  That Pearcy of Northumberland 235

  was slaine in Cheuy Chase.

  “Now God be with him!” said our king,

  “sith it will noe better bee;

  I trust I haue within my realme

  fiue hundred as good as hee. 240

  “Yett shall not Scotts nor Scottland say

  but I will vengeance take,

  And be revenged on them all

  for braue Erle Percyes sake.”

  This vow the king did well performe 245

  after on Humble-downe;

  In one day fifty knights were slayne,

  with lords of great renowne.

  And of the rest, of small account,

  did many hundreds dye: 250

  Thus endeth the hunting in Cheuy Chase,

  made by the Erle Pearcye.

  God saue our king, and blesse this land

  with plentye, ioy, and peace,

  And grant hencforth that foule debate 255

  twixt noble men may ceaze!

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Johnie Armstrong

  Traditional Ballads

  THERE dwelt a man in faire Westmerland,

  Ionnë Armestrong men did him call,

  He had nither lands nor rents coming in,

  Yet he kept eight score men in his hall.

  He had horse and harness for them all, 5

  Goodly steeds were all milke-white;

  O the golden bands an about their necks,

  And their weapons, they were all alike.

  Newes then was brought unto the king

  That there was sicke a won as hee, 10

  That livëd lyke a bold out-law,

  And robbëd all the north country.

  The king he writt an letter then,

  A letter which was large and long;

  He signëd it with his owne hand, 15

  And he promised to doe him no wrong.

  When this letter came Ionnë untill,

  His heart it was as blythe as birds on the tree:

  “Never was I sent for before any king,

  My father, my grandfather, nor none but mee. 20

  “And if wee goe the king before,

  I would we went most orderly;

  Every man of you shall have his scarlet cloak,

  Laced with silver laces three.

  “Every won of you shall have his velvett coat, 25

  Laced with sillver lace so white;

  O the golden bands an about your necks,

  Black hatts, white feathers, all alyke.”

  By the morrow morninge at ten of the clock,

  Towards Edenburough gon was hee, 30

  And with him all his eight score men;

  Good lord, it was a goodly sight for to see!

  When Ionnë came befower the king,

  He fell downe on his knee;

  “O pardon, my soveraine leige,” he said, 35

  “O pardon my eight score men and mee!”

  “Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traytor strong,

  For thy eight score men nor thee;

  For tomorrow morning by ten of the clock,

  Both thou and them shall hang on the gallowtree.” 40

  But Ionnë look’d over his left shoulder,

  Good Lo
rd, what a grevious look looked hee!

  Saying, “Asking grace of a graceles face —

  Why there is none for you nor me.”

  But Ionnë had a bright sword by his side, 45

  And it was made of the mettle so free,

  That had not the king stept his foot aside,

  He had smitten his head from his faire boddë.

  Saying, “Fight on, my merry men all,

  And see that none of you be taine; 50

  For rather then men shall say we were hange’d,

  Let them report how we were slaine.”

  Then, God wott, faire Eddenburrough rose,

  And so besett poore Ionnë rounde,

  That fowerscore and tenn of Ionnes best men 55

  Lay gasping all upon the ground.

  Then like a mad man Ionne laide about,

  And like a mad man then fought hee,

  Untill a falce Scot came Ionne behinde,

  And runn him through the faire boddee. 60

  Saying, “Fight on, my merry men all,

  And see that none of you be taine;

  For I will stand by and bleed but awhile,

  And then will I come and fight againe.”

  Newes then was brought to young Ionne Armestrong, 65

  As he stood by his nurses knee,

  Who vowed if ere he live’d for to be a man,

  O the treacherous Scots revengd hee’d be.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Captain Car

  Traditional Ballads

  IT befell at Martynmas,

  When wether waxed colde,

  Captaine Care said to his men,

  We must go take a holde.

  Syck, sike, and totowe sike, 5

  And sike and like to die;

  The sikest nighte that euer I abode,

  God lord haue mercy on me!

  “Haille, master, and wether you will,

  And wether ye like it best”; 10

  “To the castle of Crecrynbroghe,

  And there we will take our reste.”

  “I knowe wher is a gay castle,

  Is builded of lyme and stone;

  Within their is a gay ladie, 15

  Her lord is riden and gone.”

  The ladie she lend on her castle-walle,

  She loked vpp and downe;

  There was she ware of an host of men,

  Come riding to the towne. 20

  “Se yow, my meri men all,

  And se yow what I see?

  Yonder I see a host of men,

  I muse who they bee.”

  She thought he had ben her wed lord, 25

  As he comd riding home;

  Then was it traitur Captaine Care,

  The lord of Ester-towne.

  They wer no soner at supper sett,

  Then after said the grace, 30

  Or Captaine Care and all his men

  Wer lighte aboute the place.

  “Gyue ouer thi howsse, thou lady gay,

  And I will make the a bande,

  Tonighte thou shall ly within my armes, 35

  Tomorrowe thou shall ere my lande.”

  Then bespacke the eldest sonne,

  That was both whitt and redde:

  “O mother dere, geue ouer your howsse,

  Or elles we shalbe deade.” 40

  “I will not geue ouer my hous,” she saithe,

  “Not for feare of my lyffe;

  It shalbe talked throughout the land,

  The slaughter of a wyffe.

  “Fetch me my pestilett, 45

  And charge me my gonne,

  That I may shott at yonder bloddy butcher,

  The lord of Easter-towne.”

  Styfly vpon her wall she stode,

  And lett the pellettes flee; 50

  But then she myst the blody bucher,

  And she slew other three.

  “[I will] not geue ouer my hous,” she saithe,

  “Netheir for lord nor lowne;

  Nor yet for traitour Captaine Care, 55

  The lord of Easter-towne.

  “I desire of Captaine Care,

  And all his bloddye band,

  That he would saue my eldest sonne,

  The eare of all my lande.” 60

  “Lap him in a shete,” he sayth,

  “And let him downe to me,

  And I shall take him in my armes,

  His waran shall I be.”

  The captayne sayd unto him selfe: 65

  Wyth sped, before the rest,

  He cut his tonge out of his head,

  His hart out of his brest.

  He lapt them in a handkerchef,

  And knet it of knotes three, 70

  And cast them ouer the castell-wall,

  At that gay ladye.

  “Fye vpon the, Captayne Care,

  And all thy bloddy band!

  For thou hast slayne my eldest sonne, 75

  The ayre of all my land.”

  Then bespake the yongest sonne,

  That sat on the nurses knee,

  Sayth, “Mother gay, geue ouer your house;

  It smoldereth me.” 80

  “I wold geue my gold,” she saith,

  “And so I wolde my ffee,

  For a blaste of the westryn wind,

  To dryue the smoke from thee.

  “Fy vpon the, John Hamleton, 85

  That euer I paid the hyre!

  For thou hast broken my castle-wall,

  And kyndled in the ffyre.”

  The lady gate to her close parler,

  The fire fell aboute her head; 90

  She toke vp her children thre,

  Set, “Babes, we are all dead.”

  Then bespake the hye steward,

  That is of hye degree;

  Saith, “Ladie gay, you are in close, 95

  Wether ye fighte or flee.”

  Lord Hamleton dremd in his dream,

  In Caruall where he laye,

  His halle were all of fyre,

  His ladie slayne or daye. 100

  “Busk and bowne, my mery men all,

  Even and go ye with me;

  For I dremd that my haal was on fyre,

  My lady slayne or day.”

  He buskt him and bownd hym, 105

  And like a worthi knighte;

  And when he saw his hall burning,

  His harte was no dele lighte.

  He sett a trumpett till his mouth,

  He blew as it plesd his grace; 110

  Twenty score of Hamlentons

  Was light aboute the place.

  “Had I knowne as much yesternighte

  As I do to-daye,

  Captaine Care and all his men 115

  Should not haue gone so quite.

  “Fye vpon the, Captaine Care,

  And all thy blody bande!

  Thou haste slayne my lady gay,

  More wurth then all thy lande. 120

  “If thou had ought eny ill will,” he saith,

  “Thou shoulde haue taken my lyffe,

  And haue saved my children, thre,

  All and my louesome wyffe.”

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Bonny Earl of Murray

  Traditional Ballads

  YE Highlands, and ye Lawlands,

  Oh where have you been?

  They have slain the Earl of Murray,

  And they layd him on the green.

  “Now wae be to thee, Huntly! 5

  And wherefore did you sae?

  I bade you bring him wi you,

  But forbade you him to slay.”

  He was a braw gallant,

  And he rid at the ring; 10

  And the bonny Earl of Murray,

  Oh he might have been a king!

  He was a braw gallant,

  And he playd at the ba;

  And the bonny Earl of Murray 15


  Was the flower amang them a’.

  He was a braw gallant,

  And he played at the glove;

  And the bonny Earl of Murray,

  Oh he was the Queen’s love! 20

  Oh lang will his lady

  Look oer the castle Down,

  Eer she see the Earl of Murray

  Come sounding thro the town!

  Eer she, etc. 25

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Kinmont Willie

  Traditional Ballads

  O HAVE ye na heard o the fause Sakelde?

  O have ye na heard o the keen Lord Scroop?

  How they hae taen bauld Kinmont Willie,

  On Hairibee to hang him up?

  Had Willie had but twenty men, 5

  But twenty men as stout as he,

  Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont taen,

  Wi eight score in his companie.

  They band his legs beneath the steed,

  They tied his hands behind his back; 10

  They guarded him, fivesome on each side,

  And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack.

  They led him thro the Liddel-rack,

  And also thro the Carlisle sands;

  They brought him to Carlisle castell, 15

  To be at my Lord Scroope’s commands.

  “My hands are tied, but my tongue is free,

  And whae will dare this deed avow?

  Or answer by the border law?

  Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch?” 20

 

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