7
And now the valiant knight awoke,
The virgin shrieking heard;
Straight up he rose and drew his sword,
When the fierce band appeared.
Your sword last night my brother slew,
His blood yet dims its shine;
And e'er the sun shall gild the morn,
Your blood shall reek on mine.
Your words are brave, the chief returned,
But deeds approve the man;
Set by your men, and hand to hand,
We'll try what valour can.
With dauntless step he forward strode,
And dared him to the fight;
The Græme gave back: he feared his arm,
For well he knew his might.
Four of his men, the bravest four,
Sunk down beneath his sword;
But still he scorned the poor revenge,
And sought their haughty lord.
Behind him basely came the Græme,
And pierced him in the side;
Out spouting came the purple stream,
And all his tartans dyed.
But yet his hand dropt not the sword,
Nor sunk he to the ground—
Till through the enemy's heart the steel
Had forced a mortal wound,
Græme, like a tree by wind o'erthrown,
Fell breathless on the clay!
And down beside him sank the Rose,
And faint and dying lay.
