The book of British ballads . g life, Erie Percy tookeThe dead man by the hand; And said, Erie Douglas, for thy lifeWold I had lost my land. O Christ! my verry heart doth bleedWith sorrow for thy sake ; For sure, a more redoubted knightMischance did never take. A knight amongst the Scotts there was,Which saw Erie Douglas dye, Who streight in wrath did vow revengeUpon the Erie Percy : Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he cahd,Who, with a spere full bright, Well-mounted on a gallant steed,Ran fiercely through the fight; And past the English archers all, Without a dread or feare ;And throughErie Percys bo
The book of British ballads . g life, Erie Percy tookeThe dead man by the hand; And said, Erie Douglas, for thy lifeWold I had lost my land. O Christ! my verry heart doth bleedWith sorrow for thy sake ; For sure, a more redoubted knightMischance did never take. A knight amongst the Scotts there was,Which saw Erie Douglas dye, Who streight in wrath did vow revengeUpon the Erie Percy : Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he cahd,Who, with a spere full bright, Well-mounted on a gallant steed,Ran fiercely through the fight; And past the English archers all, Without a dread or feare ;And throughErie Percys body thenHe thrust his hatefull spere ; With such vehement force and might He did his body gore,The staff ran through the other side A large cloth-yard, and more. So thus did both these nobles dye,Whose courage none could staine : An English archer then perceivdThe noble erle was slaine ; He had a bow bent in his hand, Made of a trusty tree ;An arrow of a cloth-yard long To the hard head haled he : Franklin, del. Armstrong, franklin, del. Against Sir Hugh Mountgomery So right the shaft he sett;The grey goose wing that was thereon In his hearts bloode was wett. This fight did last from breake of day, Till setting of the sunne ;For when they rung the evening-bell, The battel scarce was done. With stout Erie Percy, there was slaine Sir John of Egerton,Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John, Sir James, that bold barrdn. And with Sir George and stout Sir James,Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,Whose prowesse did surmount. For Witherington my heart is woe,That ever he slaine shold be : For when his legs were hewn in twoHe knelt and fought on his knee.* And with Erie Douglas, there was slaine Sir Hugh Mountgomery,Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeld One foote wold never flee. Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too, His sisters sonne was hee ;Sir David Lamb, so well esteemd, But saved he cold not bee. * This stanza is introduced from the old ballad—in a
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