Till thro' his enemie's heart the steel,
Had forced a mortal wound.
Graeme, like a tree by wind o'erthrown,
Fell breathless on the clay ;
And down beside him sank the Rose,
And faint and dying lay.
Matilda saw and fast she ran,
O spare his life, she cried,
Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life,
Let her not be deny'd.
Her well-known voice the hero heard,
He rais'd his death-clos'd eyes,
He fixed them on the weeping maid,
And weakly thus replies—
In vain Matilda begs a life,
By death's arrest deny'd ;
My race is run — adieu my love,
Then clos'd his eyes and dy'd.
The sword yet warm, from his left side,
With frantic hand she drew,
I come, Sir James the Rose she cry'd,
I come to follow you.
The hilt she lean'd against the ground,
And (illegible text) her snowy breast;
Then fell upon her lover's (illegible text)
And sunk to endless rest.
