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Art thou aſleep Matilda dear?
awake, my love, awake!
Thy luckleſs lover calls to thee,
a long farewel 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,
To Sky I'll now erect my way
where my two brothers bide,
And raiſe the valinnt of the iſles,
to combat on my ſide.
O do not ſo, the maid replies,
with me till morning ſtay
For dark and dreary is the night,
and dangerous is the way,
All night I'll watch you in the park,
my faithful page I'll ſend,
To run and raiſe the Roſs's clan,
their maſter to defend,
Beneath a buſh he laid him down,
and wrapt him in his plaid,
While trembling for her lover's fate,
at diſtance ſtood the maid.
Swift run the pinge o'er hill and dale,
till in a lowly (illegible text)
He met the furious ſir John Graeme,
with twenty of his men.
Where goeſt thou little page, he ſaid,
ſo late who did ſhe ſend!
I go to raiſe the Roſs's clan,
their maſter to defend:
