"His sword shall sooner pierce my heart Than reave me of thy charms." Then clasped her to his beating breast, Fast lock'd into his arms. "I spake to try thy love," she said; "Take then, dear youth, this faithful kiss, In witness of my truth; And every plague become my lot, That day I break my oath!" They parted thus: the sun was set: Up hasty Donald flies; And, "Turn thee, turn thee, beardless youth!" He loud insulting cries. Soon turn'd about the fearless chief, For Donald's blade, before his breast, "This for my brother's slighted love; 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 hall; 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, And raise the valiant of the Isles, "O do not so," the maid replies; For dark and dreary is the night, "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, 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; "Last day, at noon," Matilda said, He furious pricked his sweaty steed, "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; "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; "Oft boasting hides a coward's heart; My weighty sword you fear, Which shone in front of Flodden field, With dauntless step he forward strode, But Graeme gave back, and feared his arm; |