Page:Buchanshire tragedy, or, Sir James the Ross (2).pdf/2

2 V.  v SIR JAMES THE ROSS.

Of all the Scottsh northern chiefs,

of high and warlike fame;

The bravest was sir James the Ross,

a knight of meikle fame;

His growth was like the tufted fir,

that crowns the mountain's brow,

And waving o*er his shoulders broad,

his lacks of yellow flew.

The chieftain of the brave Clan Ross,

a fine undaunted band,

Five hundred warriors drew their sword

beneath his high command.

In bloody fight thrice had he stood,

againgst the English keen,

'Ere two and twenty opening springs,

this blooming youth had seen.

The fair Matilda dear he lov’d,

a Maid of beauty rare;

Even Margaret on the Scottish throne,

was never half so fair.

Lang had he woo’d. lang she refus’d,

with seeming scorn and pride;

Yet aft her eyes confess’d the love,

her bashful tongue deny'd,

At last, pleas’d with his well tried faith,

allow’d his tender claim;