Ossian Collection > Songs of the Gael

13-CUMHA 00 H-UI8DEIN MAC-AOIDH-LAMENT FOR HUGH MACKAY.
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Wach craaidh an Iguth
Ob sad this voice
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an I guth 80 th'aig an | t-sluagh, Bho'n deach thu|
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ol woe we bear,
luath 'a a dh' earb iad
And gone our cheet and pleasan-
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daoin'-l uaisl', Aig mnaibh,aigl tuath, 'a aig searblian- 1 tan ;
without re-lief, Has seiz'd on chief and peasantry ;
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|.n :1 .1 Is
Icha'n 'eil bho'nl T6rr
In hut or hall,
guruig an |st5ir,
or merchant's stall,
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Aon dulne | beb, bho'ndh'fhalbh thu | bhuainn, /
There 's none at all speaks cheerfully ;
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^A's nrrainn |c5mhradh mu' najbhbrd, Achtiiirseachjbrd
Since that sad day be went a-way, Naught can we say,
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nach, marbhran-I nach.
but tearfully.
€ba'n ann mu'n callan codach fh^in,
Tha'n sluagh gu leir cho ciismhorach,
Aoh aon 'thoirt bhuap' gun aon fhear-fuath.
'S an robh gach buaidh cho fasmliorach.
A phears" gu 16ir, a dhreach 's a ch^ill,
Anns nach bu leir dhuinn fJiilligeadh ;
Mach bho'n 6ug bhi 'cur 'an c6ill
Nach' eil gach cr6 ach b^smhorach.
"8 lionmhor cridhe 'thuit a mhhn
Mu'n cuairt, air 1^ do thiodhlacaidh,
"Bha 'g earbsadh cinnteach ri do linn
'Bhi suidhichf 'an inntinn sliiorbheartaich
Bba ioma ceud dhe d'fhine fhein
A' deanamh f^um mar iomhaigh dhiot ;
Ach dUearbh ani beum so dhuinn gu 16ir,
Nach 'eil fo'n ghr6in ach diomhanas.
Co an duine thug ort barr
Am breith, 'am i^Mrt, 's an ionnsochadbT
SJo CO an t-aon a sheasas d'ait'
Dhe'n th'air an cr^dh ga d'ioundraichiim?
Chuh beag 'us mor gach sean 'us 6g,
i-c gal, 'us dedir ga'n ceannsacliadh.
Ge ; ric le brbn 'bhi tuisleach {)irnn',
Cba tig an curr le aon duin' dbetb.
It is not private loss or woe
That makes the blow so rigorous,
But his sad fate whom none could hat«.
With mind so great and vigorous.
For none could find, in heart or mind,
A fault in Idud or quality.
Now he is not, though we forgot
Our common lot, mortality.
Oh, many a man was filled with gloom
That round thy tomb stood silently ;
Hearts that were buoyed with hopes— now void-
By death destroyed so violently.
By clansmen prized and idolised.
His worth disguised humanity,
But this fell blow, alas ! will show
There 's nought below but vanity.
He was excelled by none on earth.
Wit, wisdom, worth adorning him ;
And none can fill his place but ill
Of those who will be mourning liim.
The hearts are wrung of old and young,
The mourner's tongue is failing him,
Oh, never more shall we deplore
One man so sore bewailing lum i
Musio and words by EOB TDOXN) MacEat.