She vow'd to him her virgin heart,
And own'd an equal flame.

Her father, Buchan's cruel lord,

Their passion disapprov'd:

He bade her wed Sir John the Græme, And leave the youth she lov'd.

One night they met, as they were wont,
Deep in a shady wood;

Where on the bank, beside the burn,
A blooming saugh-tree stood...

Conceal'd among the underwood
The crafty Donald lay,
The brother of Sir John the Græme,
To watch what they might say:

When thus the maid began; 'My sire Our passion disapproves;

He bids me wed Sir John the Græme, So here must end our loves.

My father's will must be obey'd, Nought boots me to withstand : Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom Shall bless thee with her hand.

• Soon will Matilda be forgot,
And from thy mind effac'd;
But may that happiness be thine,
Which I can never taste!'

What do I hear? Is this thy vow?"
Sir James the Ross replied:
And will Matilda wed the Græme,
Though sworn to be my bride ?

• His sword shall sooner pierce my heart,
Than 'reave me of thy charms.'-
And clasp'd her to his throbbing breast,
Fast lock'd within her arms.

* I spoke to try thy love, (she said)
I'll ne'er wed man but thee :

The grave shall be my bridal bed,
If Græme 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.'

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 the fearless chief,
And soon his sword he drew;
For Donald's blade before his breast
Had pierc'd his tartans through.

This for my brother's slighted love;
His wrongs sit 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 through the brain and crashing bone
The furious weapon drove.

Life issued at the wound; he fell,
A lump of lifeless clay :

So fall my foes!' quoth valiant Ross,
And stately strode away.

Through the green wood in haste he pass'd

Unto Lord Buchan's hall;

Beneath Matilda's windows stood,

And thus on her did call:

'Art thou asleep, Matilda fair?
Awake, my love! awake:
Behold thy lover waits without,
A long farewell to take;

For I have slain fierce Donald Græme,

His blood is on my sword:

And far, far distant are my men,
Nor can defend their lord.

• To Skye I will direct my flight,
Where my brave brothers bide;
And raise the mighty of the Isles
To combat on my side.'

O do not so, the maid replied,
With me till morning stay;
For dark and dreary is the night,
And dangerous is the way.

All night I'll watch thee in the park;
My faithful page I'll send

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

He laid him down beneath a bush,
And wrap'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 lowly 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 Ross,
Their master to defend.

'For he has slain fierce Donald Græme, 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 Ross?
I will thee well reward.'-

'He sleeps into Lord Buchan's park;
Matilda is his guard.'-

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