Page:Buchanshire tragedy, or, Sir James the Ross (1).pdf/8

 But of his ſword ne'er quat the grip, nor dropt he to the ground Till through his en'my's heart his ſteel, had forced a mortal wound Graeme like a tree by wind o'erthrown, fell breathleſs on the clay, And down beſide him ſunk the Roſs, who faint and dying lay.

The ſad Matilda ſaw him fall, O ſpare his life ſhe cry'd; Lord Buchan's daughter craves his life, let her not be deny'd. Her well known voice the hero heard, and rais'd his death clos'd eyes, And fix'd them on the weeping maid, and weakly thus replies;

In vain Matilda begs a life, by death s arreſt deny'd. My race is run, Adieu my love then clos'd his ayes and dy d. The ſword yet warm from his left ſide, with frantic hand ſhe drew, I come, Sir James the Roſs, ſhe cries, I come to follow you.

She lean'd the hilt againſt the ground, and bar'd ber ſnowy breaſt, Then fell upon her lover's face, and ſunk to endleſs reſt, Then by this fatal tragedy, let parents wraningwarning [sic] take, Ne'er to adviſe their children dear, their ſacred vows to break.