_That lay bound in iron bands_.

2.
Johnny's mother has gotten word o' that,
And care-bed she has taen.
'O Johnny, for my benison,
I beg you'll stay at hame;
For the wine so red, and the well-baken bread,
My Johnny shall want nane.

3.
'There are seven forsters at Pickeram Side,
At Pickeram where they dwell,
And for a drop of thy heart's bluid
They wad ride the fords of hell.'

4.
Johnny he's gotten word of that,
And he's turned wondrous keen;
He's put off the red scarlet,
And he's put on the Lincoln green.

5.
With a sheaf of arrows by his side,
And a bent bow in his hand,
He's mounted on a prancing steed,
And he has ridden fast o'er the strand.

6.
He's up i' Bradyslee, and down i' Bradyslee,
And under a buss o' broom;
And there he found a good dun deer
Feeding in a buss of ling.

7.
Johnny shot, and the dun deer lap,
And she lap wondrous wide,
Until they came to the wan water,
And he stem'd her of her pride.

8.
He has taen out the little pen-knife,
'Twas full three quarters long,
And he has taen out of that dun deer
The liver but and the tongue.

9.
They eat of the flesh, and they drank of the blood,
And the blood it was so sweet,
Which caused Johnny and his bloody hounds
To fall in a deep sleep.

10.
By then came an old palmer,
And an ill death may he die!
For he's away to Pickeram Side,
As fast as he can drie.

11.
'What news, what news?' says the Seven Forsters,
'What news have ye brought to me?'
'I have no news,' the palmer said,
'But what I saw with my eye.

12.
'High up i' Bradyslee, low down i' Bradyslee,
And under a buss of scroggs,
O there I spied a well-wight man
Sleeping among his dogs.

13.
'His coat it was of the light Lincoln,
And his breeches of the same,
His shoes of the American leather,
And gold buckles tying them.'

14.
Up bespake the Seven Forsters,
Up bespake they ane and a':
'O that is Johnny o' Cockley's Well,
And near him we will draw.'

15.
O the first ae stroke that they gae him,
They struck him off by the knee;
Then up bespake his sister's son:
'O the next'll gar him die!'

16.
'O some they count ye well-wight men,
But I do count ye nane;
For you might well ha' waken'd me,
And ask'd gin I wad be taen.

17.
'The