---

Walter Scott - The Reiver`s Wedding
Work rating: Low

O will ye hear a mirthful bourd?
Or will ye hear of courtesie?
Or will ye hear how a gallant lord
Was wedded to a gay ladye?

"Ca` out the kye," quo` the village herd,
As he stood on the knowe,
"Ca` this ane`s nine and that ane`s ten,
And bauld Lord William`s cow."—

"I swear by the light of the Michaelmas moon,
And the might of Mary high,
And by the edge of my braidsword brown.
They shall soon say Harden`s kye."

He took a bugle frae his side,
With names carved o`er and o`er —
Full many a chief of meikle pride
That Border bugle bore—

He blew a note baith sharp and hie,
Till rock and water rang around—
Three score of moss-troopers and three
Have mounted at that bugle sound.

The Michaelmas moon had enter`d then,
And ere she wan the full,
Ye might see by her light in Harden glen
A bow o` kye and a bassen`d bull.

And loud and loud in Harden tower
The quaigh gaed round wi` meikle glee;
For the English beef was brought in bower
And the English ale flow`d merrilie. 

And mony a guest from Teviotside
And Yarrow`s Braes was there;
Was never a lord in Scotland wide
That made more dainty fare.

They ate, they laugh`d, they sang and quaff`d,
Till nought on board was seen,
When knight and squire were boune to dine,
But a spur of silver sheen.

Lord William has ta`en his berry brown steed—
A sore shent man was he; 
"Wait he, my guests, a little speed—
Weel feasted ye shall be."

He rode him down by Falsehope burn,
His cousin dear to see,
With him to take a riding turn—
Wat-draw-the-sword was he.

And when he came to Falsehope glen,
Beneath the trysting-tree,
On the smooth green was carved plain,
"To Lochwood bound are we."

"O if they be gane to dark Lochwood
To drive the Warden`s gear,
Betwixt our names, I ween, there`s feud;
I`ll go and have my share:

"For little reck I for Johnstone`s feud,
The Warden though he be."
So Lord William is away to dark Lochwood,
With riders barely three.

The Warden`s daughters in Lochwood sate,
Were all both fair and gay,
All save the Lady Margaret,
And she was wan and wae.

The sister, Jean, had a full fair skin,
And Grace was bauld and braw;
But the leal-fast heart her breast within
It weel was worth them a`.

Her father`s pranked her sisters twa
With meikle joy and pride;
But Margaret maun seek Dundrennan`s wa`—
She ne`er can be a bride.

On spear and casque by gallants gent
Her sisters` scarfs were borne,
But never at tilt or tournament
Were Margaret`s colours worn.

Her sisters rode to Thirlstane bower,
But she was left at hame
To wander round the gloomy tower,
And sigh young Harden`s name.

"Of all the knights, the knight most fair,
From Yarrow to the Tyne,"
Soft sigh`d the maid, "is Harden`s heir,
But ne`er can he be mine;

"Of all the maids, the foulest maid
From Teviot to the Dee,
Ah!" sighing sad, that lady said,
"Can ne`er young Harden`s be."—

She looked up the briery glen,
And up the mossy brae,
And she saw a score of her father`s men
Yclad in the Johnstone grey.

O fast and fast they downwards sped
The moss and briers among,
And in the midst the troopers led
A shackled knight along.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.