Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/74

70 heroic, should be quenched so soon, and in a skirmish such as this! Haste, Frank—Elliot; haste, and frame us a litter of green boughs; cover it thick with our mantles; place this noble youth upon it, and we will bear him northward on our horses' necks. Ere I leave his body here, I will leave mine own aside it; and you, minstrel Harberson, bring some water from the brook for this fair and fainting lady.'

"All these orders, so promptly given, were as quickly executed; and we recommenced our journey to the north, with sorrowful hearts and diminished numbers. I rode by the side of the litter, which, alas! became a bier, ere we reached the green hills of Cumberland. We halted in a lonely glen; a grave was prepared; and there, without priest, prayer, or requiem, was all that I loved of man consigned to a sylvan grave. 'The dust of our young hero,' said Sir Thomas, 'must lie here till the sun shines again on our cause, and it shall be placed in consecrated earth.' The minstrel of the ancient name of Selby stood gazing on the grave, and burst out into the following wail or burial song, which is still to be heard from the lips of the maids and matrons of Cumberland:

Mourn, all ye noble warriors—

Lo! here is lying low

As brave a youth as ever

Spurred a courser on the foe.

Hope is a sweet thing to the heart,

And light unto the e'e,

But no sweeter and no dearer

Than my warrior was to me:

He rode a good steed gallantly,

And on his foes came down,

With a war-cry like the eagle's,

From Helvellyn's haughty crown:

His hand was wight, and his dark eye

Seemed born for wide command;

Young Selby has nae left his like

In all the northern land.

Weep for him, all ye maidens,

And weep for him, all ye dames;

He was the sweetest gentleman

From silver Tweed to Thames.