Page:Excellent popular ballad.pdf/2

2

Sir James the Ross.

all the Scottish Northern chiefs,
 * Of high and mighty name,

The bravest was Sir James the Ross,
 * A knight of meikle fame.

His growth was like a youthful oak,
 * That crowns the mountain brow;

And, waving o'er his shoulder broad,
 * His locks of yellow flow.

Wide were his fields; his herds were large;
 * And large his flocks of sheep;

And num'rous were his goats and deer
 * Upon the mountains steep.

The chieftain of the good Clan Ross,
 * A firm and warlike band:

Five hundred warriors drew the sword,
 * Beneath his high command.

In bloody fight thrice had he stood,
 * Against the English keen;

Ere two-and-twenty op'ning springs
 * This blooming youth had seen.

The fair Matilda dear he lov'd,
 * A maid of beauty rare;

Even Marg'ret on the Scottish throne,
 * Was never half so fair.

Long had he woo'd, long she refus'd
 * With seeming scorn and pride:

Yet oft her eyes confesse'd the love
 * Her fearful words deny'd.