Page:The Lay of the Last Minstrel - Scott (1805).djvu/179

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170

While shout the riders every one,
Such day of mirth ne'er cheered their clan,
Since old Buckleuch the name did gain,
When in the cleuch the buck was ta'en.

IX.
The wily page, with vengeful thought,
Remembered him of Tinlinn's yew,
And swore, it should be dearly bought,
That ever he that arrow drew.
First, he the yeoman did molest,
With bitter gibe and taunting jest;
Told how he fled at Solway strife,
And how Hob Armstrong cheered his wife;
Then, shunning still his powerful arm,
At unawares he wrought him harm;
From trencher stole his choicest cheer,
Dashed from his lips his can of beer,
Then, to his knee sly creeping on,
With bodkin pierced him to the bone: