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114 T E M O R A.
* Clun-galo came; fhe miffed the maid. — Where art thou,
beam of light ? Hunters, from the moffy rock, faw you the blue-
eyed fair ? — Are her fteps on grafly Lumon ; near the bed of roes ?
— Ah me ! I behold her bow in the hall. Where art thou, beam
of light ?
•f Cease, love of Conmor, ceafej I hear thee not on the ridgy
heath. My eye is turned to the king, whofe path is terrible in war-
He for whom my foul is up, in the feafon of my reft. — Deep-bo-
fomed in war he flands, he beholds me not from his cloud. — Why,
fun of Sul-malla, doft thou not look forth ? — I dwell in darknefs
here ; wide over me flies the fhadowy mift. Filled with dew are
my locks : look thou from thy cloud, O fun of Sul-malla's foul. —
* Clun-galo, luhiu knee, the wife of
Conmor, king of Inis-huna, and the mo-
ther of Sul-malla. She is here reprefent-
ed, as miffing her daughter, after fhe had
fled with Cathmor. 7'his fong is very
beautiful in the original. The cxpredive
cadences of the meafure are inimitably
fiiited to the fituation of the mind of Sul-
malla.
+ Sulmalla replies to the fuppofed quef-
tions of her mother. Towards the mid-
dle of this paragraph fhe calls Cathmor
the fun of I.erfoul, and continues the meta-
phor throughout. Thofe, who deliver this
fong down by tradition, fay that there is a
part of the original loft.— This book ends,
we may fuppofe, about the middle of the
tliird night, from the opening of the poem.
T EM OR A:

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