Identifier: gri_33125012902363 (find matches)
Title: The book of British ballads
Year: 1842 (1840s)
Authors: Hall, S. C. (Samuel Carter), 1800-1889
Subjects: Ballads, English
Publisher: London : J. How
Contributing Library: Getty Research Institute
Digitizing Sponsor: Getty Research Institute

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, A firm undaunted band;Five hundred warriors drew the sword, Beneath his high command. In bloody fight thrice had he stood, Against the English keen,Ere two and twenty opening springs This blooming youth had seen. The fair Matilda dear he loved, A maid of beauty rare;Evn Margaret on the Scottish throne Was never half so fair. Lang had he wooed, lang she refused,With seeming scorn and pride ; Yet aft her eyes confessed the loveHer fearful words denied. At last she blessed his well-tried faith, Allowed his tender claim :She vowed to him her virgin heart, And owned an equal flame. Her father, Buchans cruel lord, Their passion disapproved;And bade her wed Sir John the Graeme, And leave the youth she loved. At nicht they met, as they were wont, Deep in a shady wood,Where, on a bank beside the burn, A blooming saugh-tree stood. Concealed among the underwood, The crafty Donald lay,The brother of Sir John the Graeme, To hear what they would say. T. Armstrong bo. 342 &tr ^avxts tfje Hose.
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When thus the maid began : My sire Your passion disapproves,And bids me wed Sir John the Graeme; 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 cri

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