In it grows manie a semelie trie;
There's hart and hynd, and dae and rae,
And of a' wilde beastes grete plentie.
There's a feir castelle, bigged wi' lyme and stane;
O! gin it stands not pleasauntlie!
In the forefront o' that castelle feir,
Twa unicorns are bra' to see;
There's the picture of a knight, and a ladye bright,
And the grene hollin abune their brie.[[107]]
There an Outlaw keeps five hundred men;