The Baron of Brackley

Down Deeside rode Inverey a-whistlin' and playin'

He alit at brave brackley's gates ere it was dawn

Cries Baron of brackley it's are you within

There are sharp swords at your gates would make your blood spin

Up spoke the proud baron from the castle wall

Have you come Inverey for to plunder my hall

Or if ye be gentlemen alight and come in

If you drink of my wine you' ll no make my blood spin

Up spake his lady at his back where she lay

She heard the the cows lowing o'er hill and o'er brae

Oh rise up oh brackley and turn back your kye

The lads of drumwarren are driving them by

How can I rise up and go out again

For if i have one man he surely has ten

Rise up oh brackley and be not afraid

They're but hired young brigands with belted up plaids

She called on her ladies to come to her hand

Saying bring your rocks, lassies, we will them command

If i had a husband as what i hae nane

He'd no lie in his bed and see his kye ta'en

Arise Peggy Gordon and bring me my gun

Oh I will go out but I'll never come in

Then kiss me my peggy I'll no longer stay

Oh I will go out and meet young Inverey

hen Brackley was ready and stood in the close

A bonnier gallant ne'er mounted a horse

What 'll come of your lady and your bonny young son

What 'll come of them all when brackley is gone？

Strike dogs, cries Inverey, and fight till you're slain

For we are four-hundred, ye are but four men

Strike you proud boaster, your honor is gone

Your lands we will plunder, your castle we'll burn

I'll stand here, cries Brackley, do you think I would fly

But here I will fight and here I will die

First they killed ane and then they killed twa

And then they killed Brackley, the flower of them all.

Came ye by the castle and was ye in there

Saw ye Peggy Gordon a-tearing her hair

As I came by Brackley, as I came by there

I saw pretty Peggy a-braiding her hair

She was ranting and dancing and singing for joy

She swore that ere night she would feast Inverey

She ate with drank with him, welcomed him in

Was kind to the man that had slain her Baron

Oh fie on ye lady why did ye deceive

Ye opened the gates to the false Inverey

There's grief in the kitchen, there's mirth in the hall

For the Baron of Brackley is dead and awa'