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1]^ REPORT ON THE
Mournful am I without the fodnd of joy,
But the heavy nr.te of grief conltantly foifnding
The mufical cruit * of the fvveeteft ftrain
Will not awake my heart to joy.
My mind is funk into the depth of waves.
Hollow murmuring, without repofe or quiet ;
While I bear conftantly in mind thy manners.
Oh ! my arrow-wound of grief without cure !
No more fhall I hear thy converfation,
Sweeter than the mufic of bards.
Or the thrufli in the lonely vales ;
Which has left my heart for ever fad.
No more fiiall thy countenance be feen
To brighten in the tower of Connal.
Alas ! I am fallen under a flood of forrow :
When, my love ! fhall light beam on thee ?
Dark is thy dwelling under the fod.
Narrow and frozeu'is thy bare bed ;
Never will the morning (hine
That ihall vvdke my love from his flumber Ì*
In the fame poem of Diarmad, as given by Ken-
nedy, is a pafl'age mentioned in a note annexed to
Dr Smith's tranflation of that poem, in the follow-
ing
For an account of the Cruit, fee Appendix, p. a68.

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