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Epitaph on a Hare HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue
Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's halloo ; Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care, And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack hare. Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night, He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite. His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw ; Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.
On pippins' russet peel,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.
Whereon he loved to bound,
And swing his rump around.
For then he lost his fear,
Or when a storm drew near.
He thus saw steal away,
And every night at play.
For he would oft beguile
And force me to a smile,
But now beneath his walnut shade
He finds his long last home,
Till gentler Puss shall come.
From which no care can save,
Battle of Otterbourne
It fell about the Lammas tide,
When the muir-men win their hay, The doughty Earl of Douglas rode
Into England, to catch a prey. He chose the Gordons and the Graemes,
With them the Lindesays, light and gay ; But the Jardines wald not with him ride,
And they rue it to this day.
And part of Bambrough shire :
He left them all on fire.
And he march'd up to Newcastle,
And rode it round about ;
Or wha's the lady o't?'
But up spake proud Lord Percy, then,
And O but he spake hie! • I am the lord of this castle,
My wife's the lady gay!'
"If thou’rt the lord of this castle,
Sae weel it pleases me !
The tane of us sall die.'
He took a lang spear in his hand,
Shod with the metal free,
He rode right furiouslie.
Frae aff the castle wa',
She saw proud Percy fa'.
And never an eye to see,
But your sword sall gae wi’ mee.' • But gae ye up to Otterbourne
And wait there dayis three ;
A fause knight ca' ye me.'
'Tis pleasant there to be ; But there is nought at Otterbourne,
To feed my men and me. • The deer rins wild on hill and dale,
The birds fly wild from tree to tree; But there is neither bread nor kale,
To fend' my men and me.
Where you sall welcome be ;
A fause lord I'll ca’ thee.' • Thither will I come,' proud Percy said,
* By the might of Our Ladye !'“There will I bide thee,' said the Douglas,
'My trowth I plight to thee.' They lighted high on Otterbourne,
Upon the bent sae brown;
· Fend, 'support.'
And he that had a bonnie boy,
Sent out his horse to grass ; And he that had not a bonnie boy,
His ain servant he was.
But up then spake a little page,
Before the peep of dawn"O waken ye, waken ye, my good lord,
For Percy's hard at hand.' ‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye liar loud !
Sae loud I hear ye lie :
To dight my men and me.
Beyond the Isle of Sky ;
And I think that man was l.'
He belted on his good braid sword,
And to the field he ran ;
That should have kept his brain.
I wat he was fu' fain ! They swakked their swords, till sair they swat,
And the blood ran down like rain.
That could so sharply wound,
Till he fell to the ground.
And said—'Run speedilie,
Sir Hugh Montgomery.
What recks the death of ane!
And I ken the day's thy ain.
“My wound is deep ; I fain would sleep;
Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken bụsh,
That grows on yonder lilye lee. O bury me by the braken bush
Beneath the blooming briar, Let never living mortal ken,
That ere a kindly Scot lies here. He lifted up that noble lord,
Wi’ the saut tear in his e'e ; He hid him in the braken bush,
That his merrie men might not see. The moon was clear, the day drew near,
The spears in flinders flew,
Ere day the Scotsmen slew.
They steeped their hose and shoon;
Till all the fray was done.
That either of other were fain;
And aye the blude ran down between.
Or else I ow I'll lay thee low !' · Whom to shall I yield,' said Earl Percy,
Now that I see it must be so?'
“Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun,
Nor yet shalt thou yield to me ; But yield thee to the braken bush,
That grows upon yon lilye lee !' I will not yield to a braken bush,
Nor yet will I yield to a briar; But I would yield to Earl Douglas,
Or Sir Hugh the Montgomery, if he were here.