Of all the northern Scottish Chiefs

That live as warlike men,

The bravest was Sir James, the Rose,

A knight of muckle fame.



His growth was like the thrifty fir

That crowns the mountain's brow

And wavering o'er his shoulders broad

Bright locks of yellow flow.



Three years he fought on bloody fields

Against their English king.

Scarce two and twenty summers yet

This fearless youth had seen.



It was fair Mathildy that he loved

That girl with beauty rare,

And Margaret on the Scottish throne

With her could not compare.



Long he had wooed, long she'd refused

It seemed, with scorn and pride

But after all confessed her love;

Her faithful words, denied.



My father was born a cruel lord.

This passion does approve.

He bids me wed Sir John a Grame

And leave the one I love.



My father's will I must fulfill,

Which puts me to a stand

Some fair maid in her beauty bloom

May bless you with her hand.



"Are those the vows, Mathildy dear,"

Sir James, the Rose, did say,

"And would Mathildy wed the Grame

When she's sworn to be my bride?"



"I only spoke to try thy love.

I'll ne'er wed man but thee.

The grave shall be my bridal bed

Ere Grames my husband be."



"You take this kiss, fair youth," she said,

"In witness of my love,

May every plague down on me fall

The day I break my vows."



Ere they had met and there embraced,

Down by a shady grove,

It was on a bank beside a burn

A blooming shelltree stood.



Concealed beneath the undie wood

To hear what they might say,

A brother to Sir John the Grame

And there concealed he lay.



Ere thcy did part the sun was set.

At haste he then replied,

"Return, return, you beardless youth"

He loud insulting cris.



"O it's of my brother's slight love

Rests softly on your arm."

Three paces back the youth retired

To save himself from harm.



Then turned around the beardless youth

And quick his sword he drew

And through his enemy's crashing blows

His sharp-edged weapon drew.



Grame staggered back. He reeled and fell

A lifeless lump of clay.

"So falls my foes," said valiant Rose,

And straightly walked away.



Through the green woods he then did go

Till he reached Lord Bohan's Hall

And at Mathildy's window stood

And thus began to call:



"Art thou asleep, Mathildy dear?

Awake, my love, awake.

Your own true lover calls on you

A long farewell to take."



"For I have slain fair Donald Grame.

His blood is on my sword

And distant are my faithful men.

They can't assist their lord."



"To the Isle of Skye, I must awa'

Where my twa brothers abide.

I'll raise the gallyants of that Isle.

They'll combat on my side."



"Don't do so," the maid replied,

"With me 'til morning stay,

For dark and rainy is the night

And dangerous is the way."



"All night I'll watch you in my park.

My little page I'll send

He'll run and raise the Rose's clan

Their master to defend."



She laid him down beneath the bush

And rolled him in his plaid.

At a distance stood the weeping maid;

A-weeping for her love.



O'er hills and dales, the page he ran,

Till lonely in the Glen,

'Twas there he met Sir John the Grame

And twenty of his men.



"Where art thou going, my little page?

What tidings dost thou bring?"

"I'm running to raise the Rose's clan

Their master to defend."



"For he has slain fair Donald Grame.

His blood is on his sword,

And distant are his faithful men

They can't assist their lord."



"Tell me where he is, my little page,

And I will thee well reward."

"He sleeps now in Lord Bohan's Hall.

Mathildy, she's his guard."



He spurred his horse at a furious gait

And galloped o'er the lea

Until he reached Lord Bohan's Hall

At the dawning of the day.



Without the gate, Mathildy stood

To whom the Grame replied,

"Saw ye Sir James, the Rose, last night,

Or did he pass this way?"



"Last day at noon fair James, the Rose,

I seen him passing by.

He was mounted on a milk-white steed

And forward fast did fly.



"He's in Edinborotown now by this time

If man and horse proves good."

"Your page now lies who said he was

A-sleeping in the wood."



She wrung her hands and tore her hair

Saying, "Rose, thou art betrayed,

Thou art betrayed all by those means

I was sure you would be saved."



The hero heard a well-known voice;

This valiant knight awoke,

Oh, he awoke and drew his sword

As this brave band appeared.



"So you have slain my brother dear;

His blood as dew did shine

And by the rising of the sun

Your blood shall flow or mine."



"You speak the truth," the youth replies,

"That deeds can prove the man.

Stand by your men and hand to hand

You'll see our valiant stand."



"If boasting words a coward hide,

It is my sword you fear,

It's seen the day on FIodden's Field

When you sneaked in the rear."



"Oh, at him, men, and cut him down

Oh, cut him down in twain.

Five thousand pounds onto the man

Who leaves him on the plain."



Four of his men ---the bravest four---

Fell down before that sword,

But still they scorned that mean revenge

And sought the cowardly Lord.



Till cowardly behind him stole the Grame

And wound him in the side.

Out gushing came his purple gore

And all his garments dyed.



But ne'er of his sword did he quit the grip

Nor fell he to the ground

Till through his enemy's heart his steel

Had pierced a fatal wound.



Grame staggered back. He reeled and fell

A lifeless lump of clay

Whilst down beside him sank the Rose

That fainting, dying lay.



O when Mathildy seen him fall,

"O spare his life," she cried,

"Lord Bohan's daughter begs his life.

She shall not be denied."



The hero heard a well-known voice

And raised his death-closed eyes

And fixed them on the weeping maid,

And faintly this replies,



"In vain, Mathildy, you beg my life.

By death's, it's been denied ;

My race is run. Good-bye, my love,"

He closed his eyes and died.



She drew his sword from his left side

With frantic hands, she drew.

"I come, I come, brave Rose," she cried,

"I'm going to follow you."



She leaned the hilt upon the ground

And pressed her snow-white breast;

Laid down upon her lover's face

And endless went to rest.



So come all indulging parents,

By this warning take

And never encourage your children dear

Their sacred vows to break