Page:Florence Earle Coates Poems 1898 69.jpg

 Quoth Douglas: "Friends, if me ye mourn,

With drooping heads and looks forlorn,

Now for your sorrows comfort ye,—

And call my lass to welcome me!

'T is true that I from out these wars

Bring back a wound and many scars;

But life is mine, and I am free,

And my brave lass hath ransom'd me!"

Up spoke an ancient servitor:

We mourn indeed the wrongs of war,

We bless thy loved return,—but she

Shall rise no more to welcome thee!"

Sudden as falls the giant oak

Sore smitten by the lightning stroke,

So swoonèd Douglas to the ground,

And freshly bled his opened wound.

They strove to stay life's ebbing tide,

They chafed his hands, they swathed his side,

But Donald wailed,—"Ah, woe is me!—

Thy little lass hath welcomed thee!"