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The pytying prince the warriour rais’de,

And press'd hym to his hearte; " Adam, thy prince will bee thy friende,

" We never more will parte.”

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• Adam o'Gordon is that man,

“ A braver ne'er was seene". Then tooke the warrioure by the hande,

And led hym to the queene.

And there the Gordon was carress’d,

With tiltes and revelrye;
And none in alle the tournamentes,

Was founde with him to vye.

Where'ere the royal Edwarde foughte,

Brave Gordon aye woulde wende; And Edwarde, like a noble prince,

Was ever Gordon's friende.

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" I rose up with the chearful morne,

“ No lark more blith, no flow'r more gaye; " And, like the birde that hauntes the thorne,

“ So merry lie fung the live-long daye.

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