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Liddesdale Crosiers hae ridden a race, And they had far better staid at hame, For they have lost a gallant gay, Young Whinton Crosier it was his name. For Parcy Reed he has him taen, And he's delivered him to law, But auld Crosier has made answer That he'll gar the house of the Troughend fa. So as it happened on a day That Parcy Reed is a hunting gane, And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield They all along with him are gane. They hunted up and they hunted down, They hunted all Reedwater round, Till weariness has on him siezed; At the Batinghope he's fallen asleep. O some they stole his powder-horn, And some put water in his lang gun: 'O waken, waken, Parcy Reed! For we do doubt thou sleeps too sound. 'O waken, O waken, Parcy Reed! For we do doubt thou sleeps too long; For yonder's the five Crosiers coming, They're coming by the Hingin Stane. 'If they be five men, we are four, If ye will all stand true to me; Now every one of you may take one, And two of them ye may leave to me.' 'We will not stay, nor we dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both us and thee.' 'O stay, O stay, O Tommy Hall, O stay, O man, and fight with me! If we see the Troughend again, My good black mare I will give thee.' 'I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, to fight for thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.' 'O stay, O stay, O Johnnie Hall, O stay, O man, and fight for me! If I see the Troughend again, Five yoke of oxen I will give thee.' 'I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.' 'O stay, O stay, O Willie Hall, O stay, O man, and fight for me! If we see the Troughend again, The half of my land I will give thee.' 'I will not stay, nor I dare not stay, O Parcy Reed, for to fight with thee; For thou wilt find, O Parcy Reed, That they will slay both me and thee.' 'Now foul fa ye, ye traitors all, That ever ye should in England won! You have left me in a fair field standin, And in my hand an uncharged gun. 'O fare thee well, my wedded wife! O fare you well, my children five! And fare thee well, my daughter Jane, That I love best that's born alive! 'O fare thee well, my brother Tom! And fare you well his children five! If you had been with me this day, I surely had been man alive. 'Farewell all friends! as for my foes, To distant lands may they be tane, And the three false Halls of Girsonsfield, They'll never be trusted nor trowed again.' = = send the land deliverance Frae every reaving, riding Scot; We'll sune hae neither cow nor ewe, We'll sune hae neither staig nor stot. The outlaws come fare Liddesdale, They herry Redesdale far and near; The rich man's gelding it maun gang, They canna pass the puir man's mear. Sure it were weel, had ilka thief Around his neck a halter strang; And curses heavy may they light On traitors vile oursels amang. Now Parcy Reed has Crosier taen, He has delivered him to the law; But Crosier says he'll do waur than that, He'll make the tower o Troughend fa. And Crosier says he will do waur, He will do waur if waur can be; He'll make the bairns a' fatherless, And then, the land it may lie lee. 'To the hunting, ho!' cried Parcy Reed, 'The morning sun is on the dew; The cauler breeze frae off the fells Will lead the dogs to the quarry true. 'To the hunting, ho!' cried Parcy Reed, And to the hunting he has gane; And the three fause Ha's o Girsonsfield Alang wi him he has them taen. They hunted high, they hunted low, By heathery hill and birken shaw; They raised a buck on Rooken Edge, And blew the mort at fair Ealylawe. They hunted high, they hunted low, They made the echoes ring amain; With music sweet o horn and hound, They merry made fair Redesdale glen. They hunted high, they hunted low, They hunted up, they hunted down, Until the day was past the prime, And it grew late in the afternoon. They hunted high in Batinghope, When as the sun was sinking low; Says Parcy then, Ca off the dogs, We'll bait our steeds and homeward go. They lighted high in Batinghope, Atween the brown and benty ground; They had but rested a little while Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound. There's nane may lean on a rotten staff, But him that risks to get a fa; There's nane may in a traitor trust, And traitors black were every Ha. They've stown the bridle off his steed, And they've put water in his lang gun; Theya've fixed his sword within the sheath That out again it winna come.