Alexander Iii

In Roxburghshire a king wis born Granson o the Great Lion’s bluid Crowned as a littlin ower at Scone Beannachd Dé Righ Alba, God speed An twice a year twa jusiciars Traivelled wi him oot throw his lan Ane at the Sizzen o the girse Ane fin twis Yule, wi storms at haun A sheriff chusen for each shire Held coort at ilkie forty days Tae keep the law for rich an puir An keep aa men tae honest wyes This Alexander ruled richt weel Spennin his time in equal pairt In ilkie quarter o his realm Tae show nae favour swyed his hairt. The Scottish toons grew fat wi trade Her merchants thrived. Sailed hyne awa Dried fish an satt they selt abroad An bocht fine cloth an spices braw Ochone! Daith comes tae carl an King His English queen lay in the clay An their three bairns, his richtfu heirs Aa deid, a time o dule an wae Ten years a widower, this king A verra lusty man, it’s said Wi vergins, nuns an matrons aa Wis niver laith tae share his bed His secunt waddin bore a curse Holinshed telt, frae oot a yew An orra monster at the kirk Follaed the bride, Yolande de Dreux His threid o life dwined tae a stran In Merch, a nicht o derk an storm At Embro castle, he araise Vowed tae lie wi his queen ere dawn Tae Queensferry he rade richt fest 'Tis gyte tae cross the Forth this nicht' The boatmen warned. The king lauched lang 'Ye’ll set her course bi the meenlicht' The strang North win near cowped the boat In pitmirk rain, at Inverkeithin The Maister o the king’s satt wirks Quo 'Sire, bide here, we’ll gie safe ludgin' Bit nae a wird o sense he heard Ordered twa guides tae lead the wye Tae Kinghorn, syne he galloped on Like ane possessed bi deevilry He tint the guides, an in the derk Gaed tapsalteerie ower the rock His ain neck brukk his faa. Daith cams Tae fowk fa glower at Fate an mock Dunfermline’s far they laid him doon A heidstrang king, bit fair an stinch Fa warred agin a storm an lost For love o a young Norman wench