Close behind a renegado

Loudly shouts with taunting cry; Yield thee, yield thee, Don Saavedra, Doeft thou from the battle fly?

Well I know thee, haughty Christian,
Long I liv'd beneath thy roof;
Oft I've in the lifts of glory

Seen thee win the prize of proof.

Well I know thy aged parents,
Well thy blooming bride I know,
Seven years I was thy captive,
Seven years of pain and woe.

May our prophet grant my wishes, Haughty chief, thou fhalt be mine: Thou shalt drink that cup of sorrow, Which I drank when I was thine.

Like a lion turns the warrior,

Back he fends an angry glare: Whizzing came the Moorish javelin, Vainly whizzing thro' the air.

Back the hero full of fury

Sent a deep and mortal wound:

Inftant funk the Renegado,

Mute and lifeless on the ground.

With a thousand Moors furrounded, Brave Saavedra ftands at bay: Wearied out but never daunted,

Cold at length the warrior lay.

Near him fighting great Alonzo
Stout refifts the Paynim bands;
From his flaughter'd steed difmounted,
Firm intrench'd behind him ftands.

Furious prefs the hoftile fquadron,
Furious he repels their rage;
Lofs of blood at length infeebles:
Who can war with thousands wage!

Where yon rock the plain o'erfhadows,
Close beneath its foot retir'd,

Fainting funk the bleeding hero,
And without a groan expir'd.

LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET,

L

A SCOTTISH BALLAD

ORD Thomas and fair Annet
Sate a' day on a hill;

When night was cum, and fun was fett,
They had not talkt their fill.

Lord Thomas faid a word in jeft,
Fair Annet took it ill:
A'! I will nevir wed a wife
Against my ain friends will.

Gif ye wull nevir wed a wife,
A wife wull neir wed yee.
Sae he is hame to tell his mither,
And knelt upon his knee:

O rede, O rede, mither, he says,
A gude rede gie to mee:
O fall I tak the nut-browne bride,

And let faire Annet bee?

The nut-browne bride haes gowd and gear,

Fair Annet fhe has gat nane;

And the little beauty fair Annet haes,

O it wull foon be gane!

And he has till his brother gane:

Now brother rede ye mee;

A' fall I marrie the nut-browne bride,
And let fair Annet bee?

The nut-browne bride has oxen, brother, The nut-browne bride has kye;

I wad hae ye marrie the nut-browne bride, And caft fair Annet bye.

Her oxen may dye i' the house, Billie,
And her kye into the byre;
And I fall hae nothing to my fell,
Bot a fat fadge by the fyre.

And he has till his fifter gane:
Now fifter rede ye mee;

O fall I marrie the nut-browne bride,
And fet fair Annet free ?

Ife rede ye tak fair Annet, Thomas,
And let the browne bride alane;
ye fould figh and fay, Alace!
What is thi we brought hame?

Left

No, I will tak my mithers counsel,
And marrie me owt o' hand;

And I will tak the nut-browne bride;
Fair Annet may lieve the land.

Up then rofe fair Annets father
Twa hours or it wer day,
And he is gane into the bower,
Wherein fair Annet lay.

Rife up, rise up, fair Annet, he says,

Put on your ficken sheene; Let us gae to St. Maries kirke

And fee that rich weddeen.

My maides, gae to my dreffing roome,
And dress to me my hair;
Whair-eir yee laid a plait before,
See yee lay ten times mair.

The horse fair Annet rade upon,
He amblit like the wind,
Wi' filler he was fhod before,
Wi' burning gowd behind.

Four and twanty filler bells
Wer a' tyed till his mane,
And yae tift o' the norland wind,
They tinkled ane by ane.

Four and twanty gay gude knichts
Rade by fair Annets fide,

And four and twanty fair ladies,