REPORT OF THE MEETINGS FOR 1899 27 



And gallopin' up comes Rnecastle Hew, 



On his Bewcastle naig o' the gude steel grey, 



An' Feruihirst grim, but ever heart-true, 

 Whase ready Kerr hand redds mony a fray. 



An' Rumpet Dowford, the ae-lngget loon, 



And lang-armed Tarn o' the Waterside Toor ; 



And muckle WuU Elliot o' Jethart toon, 

 Wi' staff aye ready for ony stoor. 



Baith east and wast they muster and rin, 



Wi' eager speed the fair May to trace ; 

 And the sad days close as they begin, 



And auld Wat manes for her bonnie face. 



Six heart-fearin', heart-wearin' weeks are away, 



In forest and open a' search in vain, 

 And hope seems dead for the lang lost May ; 



It's mystery a' ower hill and plain. 



But, hark, what news is this by the way, 



Whilk auld and young guars loup i' their slioon, 



That May was seen i' the gloamin' grey 



On the Toor o' the treacherous laird o' Boon. 



And Gilbert o' Corsbie, ready and sure, 



Up faced wild Boon wi' an angry ee. 

 An' vowed he wad clear his lady-bonr. 



Or he or himself wad surely dee. 



Now, Boon for man had never a fear, 



Had sinew an' heart o' granite stane ; 

 But his flashing swurde an' his fiendish leer 



On dauntless Gibbie effect had nane. 



On Boon hill back they take their stand, 



An' draw their brands o' the Spanish steel ; 

 Then fit to fit an' hand to hand. 



They thrust and parry, syne slash and reel. 



But Gibbie has pricket the laird o' Boon, 



An' rage-blind now that sic should be. 

 He springs on Gibbie, but that nimble loon 



Strikes life wi' death frae his fause body. 



