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No need upon the sea-girt side ;
The Scots beheld the English host Leave Barmore-wood, their evening post,
And heedful watched them as they crossed The Till by Twisel bridge.
High sight it is, and haughty, while
Beneath the castle's airy wall.
Where flows the sullen Till,
In slow succession still,
To gain the opposing hill.
And many a chief of birth and rank,
And why stands Scotland idly now,
Inactive on his steed,
His host Lord Surrey lead ?
Fierce Randolph, for thy speed !