Page:Sir James the Rose (6).pdf/6

 In haste to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend.

He laid him down beneath a bush, And wrapp'd him in his plaid— While trembling for her lover's fate, At distance stood the maid.

Swift ran the page o'er hill and dale, Till, in a lonely glen, He met the furious Sir John Græme, With twenty of his men.

Where goest thou, little page, he said, So late? who did thee send?— I go to raise the brave clan Rose, Their master to defend.

For he has slain fierce Donald Graeme, His blood is on his sword; And far, far distant are his men, Nor can assist their lord.

And has he slain my brother dear, The furious chief replies; Dishonour blast my name but he By me ere morning dies.

Say, page, where is Sir James the Rose? I will thee well reward— He sleeps into Lord Buchan's park, Matilda is his guard.

They spurred their steeds and fnrious flew,< Like lightning o'er the lee; They reach'd Lord Buchan's lofty tow'rs, By dawning of the day.