Robert Cried

As Bruce drifted like a phantom through the countryside
He began to draw
More that had become outlaw
One such had come to him but came not to hide

Here his dear old friend the Lady Christian of Carrick
And with her she brought her men that were mounted
More than a dozen her gift

But too, she brought news against which Robert would have wished
‘Twas the tales of his family she recounted
And it made him sick

Now for the first time he heard the fate of Scotland’s pride
How brothers and friends were tortured and killed in the English maw
How his women and beloved were caged with beds of straw
For all of this Robert cried

  -gl-