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But half his tale he left unsaid,
And lingered till he joined the maid.
Cared not the Ladye to betray
Her mystic arts in view of day;
But well she thought ere midnight came,
Of that strange page the pride to tame,
From his foul hands the book to save,
And send it back to Michael's grave.
Needs not to tell each tender word
'Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord;
Nor how she told of former woes,
And how her bosom fell and rose,
While he and Musgrave bandied blows—
Needs not these lovers' joys to tell;
One day, fair maids, you'll know them well.
And lingered till he joined the maid.
Cared not the Ladye to betray
Her mystic arts in view of day;
But well she thought ere midnight came,
Of that strange page the pride to tame,
From his foul hands the book to save,
And send it back to Michael's grave.
Needs not to tell each tender word
'Twixt Margaret and 'twixt Cranstoun's lord;
Nor how she told of former woes,
And how her bosom fell and rose,
While he and Musgrave bandied blows—
Needs not these lovers' joys to tell;
One day, fair maids, you'll know them well.
XXVIII.
William of Deloraine, some chance
Had wakened from his deathlike trance;
William of Deloraine, some chance
Had wakened from his deathlike trance;
