Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
Barthrams Dirge
By AnonymousT
Beside the Headless Cross,
And they left him lying in his blood,
Upon the moor and moss.
They made a bier of the broken bough,
The sauch and the aspin gray,
And they bore him to the Lady Chapel,
And waked him there all day.
And threw her robes aside,
She tore her ling [long] yellow hair,
And knelt at Barthram’s side.
His wounds so deep and sair,
And she plaited a garland for his breast,
And a garland for his hair.
And bare him to his earth,
And the Gray Friars sung the dead man’s mass,
As they passed the Chapel Garth.
When the dew fell cold and still,
When the aspin gray forgot to play,
And the mist clung to the hill.
By the edge of the Ninestone Burn,
And they covered him o’er with the heather-flower,
The moss and the Lady fern.
And sang till the morning tide,
And a friar shall sing for Barthram’s soul,
While the Headless Cross shall bide.