Returning swift, his hand he reared,

Frae Donald's head above,

And through the brain and crashing bones.

His sharp-edged weapon drove.

He staggering reeled, then tumbled down,

A lump of breathless clay:

"So fall my foes!" quoth valiant Rose,

And stately strode away.

Through the green-wood he quickly hied,

Unto Lord Buchan's hail;

And at Matilda's window stood,

And thus began to call:

"Art thou asleep, Matilda dear?

Awake, my love, awake!

Thy luckless lover on thee calls,

A long farewell to take.

"For I have slain fierce Donald Graeme;

His blood is on my sword:

And distant are my faithful men,

Nor can assist their lord.

"To Skye I'll now direct my way,
Where my two brothers hide,

And raise the valiant of the Isles,
To combat on my side."

"O do not so," the maid replies; "With me till morning stay;

For dark and dreary is the night,

And dangerous the way.

"All night I'll watch thee in the park; My faithful page I'll send,

To run and raise the Ross's clan,

Their master to defend."

Beneath a bush he laid him down,
And wrapped him in his plaid;
While, trembling for her lover's fate,
At distance stood the maid.

Swift ran the page o'er hill and dale,

Till, in a lonely glen,

He met the furious Sir John Graeme,

With twenty of his men.

"Where go'st thou, little page?" he said;

"So late who did thee send?"

"I go to raise the Ross's clan,

Their master to defend;

"For he hath slain Sir Donald Graeme;

His blood is on his sword:

And far, far distant are his men,

That should assist their lord."

"And has he slain my brother dear?"

The furious Graeme replies: "Dishonor blast my name, but he By me, ere morning, dies!

"Tell me where is Sir James the Rose;

I will thee well reward."

"He sleeps into Lord Buchan's park; Matilda is his guard."

They spurred their steeds in furious mood,

And scoured along the lee;

They reached Lord Buchan's lofty towers, By dawning of the day.

Matilda stood without the gate;
To whom the Graeme did say,
"Saw ye Sir James the Rose last night?
Or did he pass this way?"

"Last day, at noon," Matilda said,
Sir James the Rose passed by:

He furious pricked his sweaty steed,
And onward fast did hie.

"By this he is at Edinburgh,

If horse and man hold good." "Your page, then, lied, who said he was Now sleeping in the wood."

She wrung her hands, and tore her hair: "Brave Rose, thou art betrayed;

And ruined by those means," she cried, "From whence I hoped thine aid!"

By this the valiant knight awoke;
The virgin's shrieks he heard;
And up he rose and drew his sword,
When the fierce band appeared.

"Your sword last night my brother slew; His blood yet dims its shine: And, ere the setting of the sun,

Your blood shall reek on mine."

"You word it well," the chief replied; "But deeds approve the man:

Set by your band, and, hand to hand,

We'll try what valor can.

"Oft boasting hides a coward's heart:

My weighty sword you fear,

Which shone in front of Flodden field,
When you kept in the rear."

With dauntless step he forward strode,
And dared him to the fight:

But Graeme gave back, and feared his arm;
For well he knew its might.

Four of his men, the bravest four,

Sunk down beneath his sword:
But still he scorned the poor revenge,
And sought their haughty lord.

Behind him basely came the Graeme,
And pierc'd him in the side;
Out spouting came the purple tide,
And all his tartans dyed.

But yet his sword quat not the grip,
Nor dropt he to the ground,

Till through his enemy's heart his steel

Had forced a mortal wound.

แ

Graeme, like a tree with wind o'erthrown,

Fell breathless on the clay;

And down beside him sank the Rose,
And faint and dying lay.

The sad Matilda saw him fall:

"Oh, spare his life!" she cried ;

Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life;

Let her not be denied!"

Her well-known voice the hero heard;
He raised his death-closed eyes,

And fixed them on the weeping maid,
And weakly thus replies: