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“ That short brown shaft sae meanly trim'd, 265
And loud he leugh in jex:
His ftirrup was nae ftay,
Garden't was :
lay All waltering in his bludf/
/look't nae Jevreless xxxvi Wich mit geftare, mind and theris mort
he north the plain
When winner ay the same:
Could meste soft love to bruik,
Then languid grew his Kikey lik.
All panting on the plain,
Dei to arjise again ;
Nae mair with bløthsom Founds
Thy lord lyx in the clay ;
Set up for monument,
Filla keng waris black intent:
Let Norse the name ay drejd,
I lee, where
Ay how he forget, aft how he fraint, /fanght Ispard
blew th 'westlin wind, th? Sair beat the heavy, show
To fhäne fae far at night,
now as black as mourning
Thains nae light in my Hally; Tha'
Nor ward stands on my wall. wa'
Nae answer fit their dreid, dread,
, my fons, l'le beigour feelf :"/guide But by they past with speza.
ve XLI.. “ As fast I brif fped owre Scotlands faes,". Jeasd There daily his brag of weir, Isham'd Sair fhamid to mind boks but his dame, fought
And maiden Fairly fair.
Black fejr he felt, but Juhat to fex frae yet; wi drentamiento mish decide
Sair fehled his body, fair his limbs,
And Afthe warrior fled. Ja'
# fe wift
He wilt nae gets wil dread