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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 denied.
Her well known voice the hero heard,
he rais’d his death-clos'd eyes;
He fix'd them on the weeping maid,
and weakly thus replies.
In vain Matilda begs a life,
by death's arrest denied;
My race is run—adieu my love
then closed his eyes and died.
The sword yet warm from his left side,
with frantic hand she drew,
I come Sir James the Rose she cried,
I come to follow you.
The hilt she lean’d against the ground,
and bar'd her snowy breast;
Then fell upon her lover face,
and sunk to end'ess rest.
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