J. F. Campbell Collection > Temora, an ancient epic poem, in eight books

y2 T E M O R A:
foul. His bufliy hair whiltles in wind. At times, burfls the hum
of a {o:-)g. — He (Iruck the tree, at length, in wrath i and rufl-ied
before the king.
Calm and ftately, to the beam of the oak, arofe the form of
voung Hidalla. His hair falls round his blufliing cheek, in wreaths
of waving light. Soft was his voice in Clon-ra *, in the valley of
his fathers; when he touched the harp, in the hall, near his roar-
ing ftreams.
King of Erin, faid the youth, now is the time of feafts. Bid
the voice of bards arife, and roll the night away. The foul returns,
from fong, more terrible to war. — Darknefs fettles onlnis-fail: from
hill to hill bend the fkirted clouds. Far and grey, on the heath,
the dreadful flrides of ghofts are feen : the ghofts of thofe who
fell bend forward to their fong. Bid thou the harps to rife, and
brighten the dead, on their wandering blafts.
Be all the dead forgot, faid Foldath's burfting wrath. Did not
I fail in the field, and fliall I hear the fong ? Yet was not my courfe
harmlefs in battle : blood was a ftream around my fteps. But the
feeble were behind me, and the foe has efcaped my fword. — In Clon-
ra's vale touch thou the harp; let Dura anfwer to thy voice; while
fome maid looks, from the wood, on thy long, yellow locks.——
Fly from Lubar's echoing plain : it is the field of heroes.
King of Teniora -]-, Malthos faid, it is thine to lead In war.
Thou art a fire to our eyes, on the dark-brown field. Like a blall
thou
• Claon-rath, ivim/iit^ field. The th f This fpcech of M.ilthos is, tlirough-
are feldo.-n pronounced audibly in the Ga- out, a fcvere reprimand to the bluflering
lie lan"u.ijie. be-