The book of British ballads . So here must end our loves. My fathers will must be obeyed; Nocht boots me to withstand;Some fairer maid, in beautys bloom, Must bless thee with her hand. Matilda soon shall be forgot, And from thy mind effaced :But may that happiness be thine, Which I can never taste. What do I hear ? Is this thy vow ? Sir James the Rose replied:* And will Matilda wed the Graeme, Though sworn to be my bride ? His sword shall sooner pierce my heartThan reave me of thy charms ! Then clasped her to his beating breast,Fast locked into his arms. I spake to try thy love, she said: Ill
The book of British ballads . So here must end our loves. My fathers will must be obeyed; Nocht boots me to withstand;Some fairer maid, in beautys bloom, Must bless thee with her hand. Matilda soon shall be forgot, And from thy mind effaced :But may that happiness be thine, Which I can never taste. What do I hear ? Is this thy vow ? Sir James the Rose replied:* And will Matilda wed the Graeme, Though sworn to be my bride ? His sword shall sooner pierce my heartThan reave me of thy charms ! Then clasped her to his beating breast,Fast locked into his arms. I spake to try thy love, she said: Ill neer wed man but thee : My grave shall be my bridal bed,Ere Graeme 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!r They parted thus : the sun was set: Up hasty Donald flies; [youth ! And, Turn thee, turn thee, beardlessHe loud insulting cries. J. G. Brine del. W. J. Linton so. ^L&§> 3 D ^3 Sbfr games tfje Soon turned about the fearless chief, And soon his sword he drew ;For Donalds blade, before his breast, Had pierced his tartans through. This for my brothers slighted love; His wrongs sit on my paces back the youth retired, And saved himself frae harm. Returning swift, his hand he reared Frae Donalds head above,And through the brain and crashing bones His sharp-edged weapon drove. He staggering reeled, then tumbled down, A lump of breathless clay: So fall my foes ! quoth valiant Rose, And stately strode away. Through the green-wood he quickly hied, Unto Lord Buchans hall;And at Matildas window stood, And thus began to call: Art thou asleep, Matilda dear ? Awake, my love, awake !Thy luckless lover on thee calls, A long farewell to take. For I have slain fierce Donald Graeme; His blood is on my sword:And distant are my faithful men, Nor can assist their lord. 1 To Skye Ill now direct my way, Where my two brothers bide,And raise the valiant of the Isles, To combat on
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