Sir Hugh In The Grime's Downfall Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B C D EFGHI JII KLM KNM BOPO QRQN SIS QNT URQ UNT VFWH WNX VNW WNXN YIZ

The Text given here is comparatively a late one from the Roxburghe collection iii An earlier broadside in the same and other collections gives a longer but curiously corrupted version exhibiting such perversions as 'Screw' for 'Scroop ' and 'Garlard' for 'Carlisle 'A
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The Story in its full form relates that Sir Hugh in the Grime Hughie Graeme or Graham stole a mare from the Bishop of Carlisle by way of retaliation for the Bishop's seduction of his wife He was pursued by Lord Scroop taken and conveyed to Carlisle and hangedB
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Scott suggested that Hugh Graham may have been one of four hundred Borderers accused to the Bishop of Carlisle of various murders and thefts aboutC
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SIR HUGH IN THE GRIME'S DOWNFALLD
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Good Lord John is a hunting goneE
Over the hills and dales so farF
For to take Sir Hugh in the GrimeG
For stealing of the bishop's mareH
He derry derry downI
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Hugh in the Grime was taken thenJ
And carried to Carlisle townI
The merry women came out amainI
Saying 'The name of Grime shall never go down '-
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O then a jury of women was broughtK
Of the best that could be foundL
Eleven of them spoke all at onceM
Saying 'The name of Grime shall never go down '-
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And then a jury of men was broughtK
More the pity for to beN
Eleven of them spoke all at onceM
Saying 'Hugh in the Grime you are guilty '-
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Hugh in the Grime was cast to be hang'dB
Many of his friends did for him lackO
For fifteen foot in the prisin he did jumpP
With his hands tyed fast behind his backO
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Then bespoke our good Lady WardQ
As she set on the bench so highR
'A peck of white pennys I'll give to my lordQ
If he'll grant Hugh Grime to meN
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'And if it be not full enoughS
I'll stroke it up with my silver fanI
And if it be not full enoughS
I'll heap it up with my own hand '-
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'Hold your tongue now Lady WardQ
And of your talkitive let it beN
There is never a Grime came in this courtT
That at thy bidding shall saved be '-
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Then bespoke our good Lady MoorU
As she sat on the bench so highR
'A yoke of fat oxen I'll give to my lordQ
If he'll grant Hugh Grime to me '-
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'Hold your tongue now good Lady MoorU
And of your talkitive let it beN
There is never a Grime came to this courtT
That at thy bidding saved shall be '-
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Sir Hugh in the Grime look'd out of the doorV
With his hand out of the barF
There he spy'd his father dearW
Tearing of his golden hairH
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'Hold your tongue good father dearW
And of your weeping let it beN
For if they bereave me of my lifeX
They cannot bereave me of the heavens so high '-
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Sir Hugh in the Grime look'd out at the doorV
Oh what a sorry heart had heN
There he spy'd his mother dearW
Weeping and wailing 'Oh woe is me '-
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'Hold your tongue now mother dearW
And of your weeping let it beN
For if they bereave me of my lifeX
They cannot bereave me of heaven's feeN
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'I'll leave my sword to Johnny ArmstrongY
That is made of mettal so fineI
That when he comes to the border sideZ
He may think of Hugh in the Grime '-

Frank Sidgwick



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