Page:Buchanshire tragedy, or, Sir James the Ross (2).pdf/7

23 And ruin’d by those means she said,

from whence I hop’d 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 hand appear’d.

Your sword last night my brother slew,

his blood yet dims its shine ;

But ‘ere the rising. of the sun

your blood shall reek on mine. .

You word it well, the chief reply’d,

bat deeds approve the man;

Set by your men, and hand to hand,

well try what valour can.

Oft boasting hides a coward’s heart,

my weighty sword you fear,

Which shone in frost in Flooden-field,

when yours kept in the rear.

With dauntless steps he forwards strode,

and dar’d him to the light,

But Græme gave back he fear'd his arm,

for well he knew its might.

Four of his men, the bravest four,

luck down beneath his sword,

Ext still he scorn'd this base revenge,

and fought their haughty lord.

Behind him basely came the Græme,

and wound him in the side.

Out spouting came the purple gore,

and all his tartan dyed.

But of his swore ne'er quite the grip,

nor dropt he to the ground,