O’ fairest dames of e’ry shire
Cry no more for lost desire
Weeping daily for your lovely knight
De Argentine, the Scotsman’s blight!
O’ fairest dames of e’ry shire
Cry no more for your lost sire
Who rode beside I, the Thweng
Who’s arms upon the Scotsmen rang
In surviving fights, I was much more rich,
Marmaduke, who alone survived Stirling bridge
And survived Bannockburn no less!
But o’ it is for Giles you stress
Sir Giles rode then at the right hand
Of the mighty King of England
O’ surest I, not far behind
The man who plagued the Scotsmen’s mind
For ‘twas De Argentine, the bane of Scots
Whose deeds were in Robert the Bruce’s Thoughts
Giles, who was placed among the best
Put his pride at Bannockburn to test
O’ fairest dames of e’ry shire
Cry no more for your lost sire
Who survived all fights until Edward sought
A flight southward, instead of glory fought
But that was not Sir Giles’ way
A true Knight never turns away
Nor did I, Marmaduke de Thweng!
Follow that poor English King
Yet while neither of us fled
Only one wound up dead
The Scotsmen spared me
‘Cause I bent the knee
If brave Marmaduke Thweng, had nay been spared
Then you’d never have heard the news I’ve shared
And who would speak of his glory
And tell fair ladies his story?
O’ you fair dame of his desire
Cry no more for your lost sire
For in a chest upon my back I bear
All his virgin spoils for his lady fair