Page:Buchanshire tragedy, or, Sir James the Ross (3).pdf/4

( 4 ) I ſpoke to try thy love ſhe ſaid,

I'll ne'er wed man but thee,

My grave ſhall be my bridal bed,

e'er Grame my huſband be,

Take then dear youth, this faithful kiſs,

in witneſs of my troth,

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,

and ſoon his ſword he drew,

For Donald's blade before his breaſt

had pierced his tartans through.

This for my brother's ſlighted love,

his wrongs ſit on me arm:

Three paces back the youth retir'd.

to ſave himſelf from harm.

Returing ſwift his hand he rear'd,

from Donald's head above.

And thro the brains and craſhing bones,

his ſharp edg'd weapon drove.

ſtagger'd reel'd, then tumbled down,

lump of breathleſs clay

So fall my foes, quoth valiant Roſs

and ſtately ſtrode away.

Through the green rood he quickly hy'd,

unto Lord Buchan's hall,

And at Matilda's window ſtood,

and thus began to call: