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And oft apart his arms he tossed,
To Mary's chapel of the Lowes:
And he would pay his vows. But the Ladye of Branksome gathered a band Of the best that would ride at her command;
The trysting place was Newark Lee. Wat of Harden came thither amain, And thither came John of Thirlestaine, And thither came William of Deloraine;
They were three hundred spears and three. Through Douglas-burn, up Yarrow stream, Their horses prance, their lances gleam. They came to St Mary's lake ere day; But the chapel was void, and the Baron away. They burned the chapel for very rage, And cursed Lord Cranstoun's Goblin-Page.
And now, in Branksome's good green wood,
As under the aged oak he stood,
The Baron's courser pricks his ears,
As if a distant noise he hears.
The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high,
And signs to the lovers to part and fly;
No time was then to vow or sigh.
Fair Margaret, through the hazel grove,
While thus he poured the lengthened tale,
• Wood Pigeon.
The attending maidens smiled to see,