Classic Poem

“Rise up, rise up, my seven brave sons,”
And dress in your armour so bright;
Earl Douglas will hae Lady Margaret awa
Before that it be light.

‘Arise, arise, my seven brave sons,
And dress in your armour so bright;
It shall never be said that a daughter of mine
Shall go with an earl or a knight.’

‘Oh will ye stand, fair Margaret,’ he says,
‘And hold my milk-white steed,
Till I fight your father and seven brethren,
In yonder pleasant mead?’

She stood and held his milk-white steed,
She stood trembling with fear,
Until she saw her seven brethren fall,
And her father that loved her dear.

‘Hold your hand, Earl Douglas,’ she says,
‘Your strokes are wonderous sair;
I may get sweethearts again enew,
But a father I'll ne'er get mair.’

She took out a handkerchief,
Was made o' the cambrick fine,
And aye she wiped her father's bloody wounds,
And the blood sprung up like wine.

‘Will ye go, fair Margaret?’ he said,
‘Will ye now go, or bide?’
‘Yes, I'll go, sweet William,’ she said,
‘For ye've left me never a guide.

‘If I were to go to my mother's house,
A welcome guest I would be;
But for the bloody deed that's done this day,
I'll rather go with thee.’

He lifted her on a milk-white steed
And himself on a dapple gray;
They drew their hats out over their face,
And they both went weeping away.

They rode, they rode, and they better rode,
Till they came to yon water wan;
They lighted down to gie their horse a drink
Out of the running stream.

‘I am afraid, Earl Douglas,’ she said,
‘I am afraid ye are slain;
I think I see your bonny heart's blood
Running down the water wan.’

‘Oh no, oh no, fair Margaret,’ he said,
‘Oh no, I am not slain;
It is but the scad of my scarlet cloak
Runs down the water wan.’

He mounted her on a milk-white steed
And himself on a dapple gray,
And they have reached Earl Douglas' gates
Before the break of day.

‘O rise, dear mother, and make my bed,
And make it braid and wide,
And lay me down to take my rest,
And at my back my bride.’

She has risen and made his bed,
She made it braid and wide;
She laid him down to take his rest,
And at his back his bride.

Lord William died ere it was day,
Lady Margaret on the morrow;
Lord William died through loss of blood and wounds,
Lady Margaret died with sorrow.

The one was buried in Mary's kirk,
The other in Mary's quire;
The one sprung up a bonny bush,
And the other a bonny brier.

These twa grew, and these twa threw,
Till they came to the top,
And when they could na farther gae,
They coost the lovers' knot.