Murders > Tragedy of Sir James the Ross

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And will Matilda wed the Graeme,
Tho' sworn to be my bride.''
His sword shall sooner pierce my heart,
Than reave me of thy charm—
And clasp'd her to his throbbing breast,
Fast lo ck‘d within her arms.
1 spoke to try thy love, she said;
1,11 ne'er wed man bit thee:
The grave shall be my bridal bed,
If Graeme my husband be.
Take then, dear youth, this faithful kiss,
In witness of my troth;
And every plague become my lot
That day 1 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 thq tearless chief,
And soon his sword he drew;
For Donald's blade before his breast
Had pierc'd his tartans thro'.
This for my brother s slighted love;
His wrongs fit on my arm—
Three paces back the youth retir'd,
And sav'd himself from harm.
Returning swift, his sword he rear'd
Fierce Donald's head above;
And thro, the brain and crashing bone
The furious weapon drove,