Still on my waies as I went,
Out throgh a land, beside a lie,
I met a beirne vpon the way.
Me thought him seemlie for to see,
I asked him holly his intent,
Good Sir, if your wil be,
Sen that ye byde vpon the bent
Some vncouth tydinges tell to me,
When shal al these warres be gone,
That leile men may leue in lee,
Or when shall falsehood goe from home
and laughtie blow his horne on hie.
I looked from me not a mile,
And saw two Knights vpon a lie,
they were armed seemely new,
two Croces on there brestes they bare,
and they were cled in diuers hew,
Of sindrie countries as they were,
the one was red as any blood,
Set in his Shield a Dragone keene,
He steird his Steed as he were mad,
With crabbid words sharpe and keene
Right to the other beirne him by.
His Horse was al of siluer sheene
His Shield was shaped right seemlie,
In it a Ramping Lyon keene.
Seemly into golde was set,
His bordour was of Asure sheene,
With silke and Sabil well was plet,
I looked from me ouer a greene,
And saw a Ladie on a lie,
That such a one had I neuer seene.
the light of her shined so hie,
Attour the moore where at she fure,
The fields me thought faire and greene
She rode vpon a Steid ful sture,
That such a one had I seldome seene :
Her Steid was white as any milke,
His top his taile war both full blae
A side saydle sewed with silke,
As al were golde it glittered so,
His harnessing was of silke of ynde,
Set with previous stones free,
He ambled on a noble kinde :
Vpon her head stoode Crownes three :
Her garment was of Gowles gay,
But other colour saw I none,
A flying fowle then I saw,
Light beside her on a stone
A stoope into her hand she baere,
and holy water she had readie,
She sprinkled the field both here & there
Said heere shal many dead corpses lie.
At yon bridge vpon yon burne,
Where the water runnes bright and sheene,
There shal many steides spurne,
And Knightes die throw battles keene
To the two Knightes did she say,
Let be your strife my Knightes free,
Ye take your Horse and ride your way
As God hath ordained so must it be,
Saint Andrew thou hast the hight,
Saint George thou art my owne Knight,
they wrongous aires shall worke thee woe,
Now are they one there waies gones,
The Ladie and the Knightes two,
to that beirne then can I ment,
and asked tythings be my fey,
What kinde of sight was that I said ?
Thou shewed to me upon yone lie,
Or wherefrom came those Knights two
They seemed of a farre countrie,
That Ladie that I let thee see,
that is the Queene of heauen so bright
the fowle that flew by her knee,
that is Saint Michael much of might
the knightes two the field to ta
Where manie men in field shall fight.
know you well it shal be so,
that die shal manie a gentle knight.
With death shall manie doughtie daile,
the Lordes shal be then away,
there is no Harret that can tell,
who shal win the field that day,
A crowned King in armes three
Vnder the Baner shal be set,
two false and feyned shal be,
the third shal light and make great let
Baners fiue againe shal striue,
and come in on the other side,
the white Lyon shall beate them downe,
and worke them woe with woundes wide,
The Bares heade with the read Lyon,
So seemely into read golde set,
That day shal slay the King with Crowne,
Though many Lordes make great let,
there shal attour the water of Forth
Set in golde the read Lyon.
And many Lords out of the North
to that battell shal make them boun,
there shal Crescentes come ful keene,
that weares the Croce as read as blood.
On euerie side shal be sorrow seene,
Defouled is many doughtie foode,
Beside a Lough, vpon a lie,
they shal assemble vpon a day,
And many doughtie men shal die
Few in quiet shal be found away,
Our Scottish King shal come full keene,
The read Lyon beareth he,
A feddered arrow sharpe I weene
Shal make him winke and warre to see,
Out of the filde he shal be led
When he is bloodie and woe for blood,
Yet to his men shall he say
For Gods loue you turne againe
and giue those Sutherne folke a fray,
Why should I lose, the right is mine,
My date is not to die this day.
Yonder is falshoode fled away,
and laughtie blowes his horne on hie,
Our bloodie King that weares the Crowne,
Ful boldlie shal he battell byde,
His Baner shal be beaten downe,
And hath no hole his head to hide,
the Sternes three that day shall die,
That beares the Harte in siluer sheene :
there is no riches golde nor fee,
May lengthen his life an howre I weene,
Thus through the field that Knight shal ride
And twise reskew the King with Crowne,
He will make many a Baner yeeld,
the Knight that beares the toddes three,
He wil by force the field to ta,
But when he sees the Lyon die,
Thinke ye wel he will be wae,
Beside him lightes beirnes three,
Two is white the third is blae,
the toddes three, shall slay the two,
The third of them shall make him die,
Out of the field shall goe no more,
But one Knight and knaues three.
There comes a Banner red as blud,
In a Ship of siluer sheene,
With him comes many ferlie fude,
to worke the Scottes much hurte and woe,
There comes a Ghost out of the West,
Is of another language then he,
to the battle bownes him best,
As soone as he the Senyour can see,
the Ratches workes them great wanrest,
Where they are rayed on a lie,
I cannot tell who hath the best
Each of them makes other die
A white Swane set into blae,
Shal semble from the South sey,
To worke the Northen folk great wae,
For knowe you well thus shal it be,
the staikes aucht with siluer set,
Shal semble from the other side,
till he and the Swan be met,
They shal worke woe with woundes wide,
throw woundes wide, there weeds hath wet
So boldlie will there beirnes byde,
It is no rek who gets the best,
they shal both die in that same tide.
There comes a Lord out of the North,
Riding vpon a Horse of tree,
that broad landes hath beyond Forth,
The white Hinde beareth he,
And two Ratches that are blew,
Set into golde that is so free,
that day the Egill shal him slay,
and then put up his Baner hie :
The Lord that beares the Losanes three,
Set into gold with Gowles two,
Before him shal a battel be,
He weares a banner that is blew,
Set with Pecok tailes three :
and lustie Ladies heads two,
Vnfane of one, each other shal be,
all through griefe to gether they goe
I cannot tel who wins the gree,
Each of them shal other slay,
the Egill gray set into greene,
that weares the hartes heades three,
Out of the South he shal be seene,
to light and ray him on a lie,
With 55. Knights that are keene,
And Earles either two or three,
From Carlel shal he come bedene,
Againe shal they it neuer see,
at Pinkin Cleuch their shal be spilt,
Much gentle blood that day,
Their shal the Baire lose the gylt,
And the Eagle beare it away,
Before the water man calles Tyne,
And there ouer lyes a brig of stone,
the Baires three, looses the gree,
there shall the Eagle win his name.
There comes a beast out of the west
With him shal come a faire manie,
His Baner hes beene seldome seene,
A bastard trowe I best he be,
Gotten with a Ladie sheene,
With a Knight in priuitie
His armes are full eath to knowe,
the read Lyon bears he,
that Lyon shall forsaken be,
and he right glad to flee away
Into an Orchyard on a lie,
With hearbs greene and allayes gray,
there will he inlaiked be,
His men sayes harmesay,
the Eagle puts his Baner on hie
and sayes the field he woone that day.
their shal the Lyon lye full still,
Into a vallie faire and bright,
A Ladie shoutes with words shrile,
and sayes woe worth the coward knight
Thy men are slaine vpon yon hil,
To dead are many doughtie dight,
Thereat the Lyon likes ill,
And raises his baner hie on hight
Vpon the moore that is so gray,
Beside a headles Croce of stone,
There shal the Eagle die that day,
And the read Lyon win the name
The Eagles three shal lose the gree,
that they haue had this manie day,
the read Lyon shal win renowne,
Win all the field and beare away,
One Crowe shal come, another shal goe,
and drink the gentle blood so free.
When all these ferlies was away
then sawe I non, but I and he
then to the birne couth I say
Where dwells thou or in what countrie :
Or who shal rule the Ile of Bretaine
From the North to the South sey :
a French wife shal beare the Son,
Shall rule all Bretaine to the sey,
that of the Bruces blood shall come
As neere as the nint degree
I franed fast what was his name,
Where that he came from what countrie ?
In Erslingtoun, I dwell at hame
Thomas Rymour men calles me.