Blair Collection > Galic antiquities

A P O E M. 139
time, my tears have always begun with the dawn of the morning,
and defcended with the fliades of the night. — O when fliall I fee
thee again, Crimora ! Tell me, Comhal, how died my love.
Thy love heard of thy fate, and three fims beheld her white
hand fupport her bending head. The fourth faw her fteps on the
winding fhore, looking for the cold corfe of Dargo. The daugh-
ters of Morven beheld her from their mountains. They defcended,
in filence, along their blue dreams. Their fighs lift their wander-
ing hair, their foft hands wipe away the dimming tear. — They
came, in filence, to comfort Crimora ; bvit in her bed of ooze,
they found the maid. They found her cold as a wreath of fnow ;
fair as. a fwan on the fliore of Lano. — The gray flone and green
turf on Morven's fliore, now compofe Crimora's dwelling. — The
daughters of Morven movirned her fate, and the bards praifed her
beauty. — So may we, Dargo, live in renown ; fo may our fame
be found, when we moidder in the narrow houfe !
• — But fee that light of Innisfail ; fee the Crantara fly ? Danger is
nigh the king. Spread the fail, and ply the oar ; fwift fly the
bark over the fea. Let our fpeed be to yonder fliore, that we may
fcatter the foes of Innisfail.
The breeze of Morven comes to our aid. It fills the wide
womb of our falls with its breath. Our mariners rife on their
oars, and lafli the foaming waves on their gray-bending head.
Each hero looks forward to the fliore ! each foul is already in the
field. — But the eye of Dargo is bent downwards, as he fits in the
filence of his grief. His head refl;s on his arm, over the dark edge
of his father's fliield. Comhal obferves the mournful chief; he
obferves his tears, dim- wandering, through the bofly plain of his
S z flaieldj