Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/453

 'The curse of hell frae me sall ye bear, Mither, mither; The curse of hell frae me sall ye bear: Sic counsels ye gave to me, O!'

374. Edom o' Gordon

It fell about the Martinmas, When the wind blew shrill and cauld, Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, 'We maun draw to a hauld.

'And what a hauld sall we draw to, My merry men and me? We will gae to the house o' the Rodes, To see that fair ladye.'

The lady stood on her castle wa', Beheld baith dale and down; There she was ware of a host of men Cam riding towards the town.

'O see ye not, my merry men a', O see ye not what I see? Methinks I see a host of men; I marvel wha they be.'

She ween'd it had been her lovely lord, As he cam riding hame; It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon, Wha reck'd nae sin nor shame.

town] stead.