Classic Poem

Lord Home he is a hunting gane,
Through the woods and valleys clear,
And he has taen Sir Hugh the Græme,
For stealing o the bishop's mare.

They hae taen Sir Hugh the Græme,
Led him down thro Strieveling town;
Fifeteen o them cried a' at ance,
‘Sir Hugh the Græme he must go down!’

They hae causd a court to sit,
Mang a' their best nobilitie;
Fifeteen o them cried a' at ance,
‘Sir Hugh the Græme he now must die!’

Out it speaks the lady Black,
And o her will she was right free:
‘A thousand pounds, my lord, I 'll gie,
If Hugh the Græme set free to me.’

‘Hold your tongue, ye Lady Black,
And ye 'll let a' your pleadings be!
Though ye woud gie me thousands ten,
It 's for my honour he must die.’

Then out it speaks her Lady Bruce,
And o her will she was right free:
‘A hundred steeds, my lord, I 'll gie,
If ye 'll gie Hugh the Græme to me.’

‘O hold your tongue, ye Lady Bruce,
And ye 'll let a' your pleadings be!
Though a' the Græmes were in this court,
It 's for my honour he must die.’

He looked over his shoulder,
It was to see what he coud see,
And there he saw his auld father,
Weeping and wailing bitterlie.

‘O hold your tongue, my old father,
And ye 'll let a' your mourning be!
Though they bereave me o my life,
They canno had the heavens frae me.

‘Ye 'll gie my brother John the sword
That 's pointed wi the metal clear,
And bid him come at eight o'clock,
And see me pay the bishop's mare.

‘And, brother James, take here the sword
That 's pointed wi the metal brown;
Come up the morn at eight o'clock,
And see your brother putten down.

‘And, brother Allan, take this sword
That 's pointed wi the metal fine;
Come up the morn at eight o'clock,
And see the death o Hugh the Græme.

‘Ye 'll tell this news to Maggy my wife,
Niest time ye gang to Strievling town,
She is the cause I lose my life,
She wi the bishop playd the loon.’

Again he ower his shoulder lookd,
It was to see what he could see,
And there he saw his little son,
Was screaming by his nourice knee.

Then out it spake the little son,
‘Since 'tis the morn that he must die,
If that I live to be a man,
My father's death revengd shall be.’

‘If I must die,’ Sir Hugh replied,
‘My friends o me they will think lack;’
He leapd a wa eighteen feet high,
Wi his hands bound behind his back.

Lord Home then raised ten armed men,
And after him they did pursue;
But he has trudged ower the plain
As fast as ony bird that flew.

He looked ower his left shoulder,
It was to see what he coud see;
His brother John was at his back,
And a' the rest o his brothers three.

Some they wound, and some they slew,
They fought sae fierce and valiantly;
They made his enemies for to yield,
And sent Sir Hugh out ower the sea.