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199 CATHLIN OF CLUTHA.
He came by night. Brave Cathmol, clad in arms,
Him met in battle, but the warrior fell.
Three days the foe, then, with the virgin dwelt ;
And on the fourth in arms array'd she fled.
For, in her mind the race of warlike kings 205
She mournful bore, and felt her bursting soul.
Why, maid of Toscar of Lutha, should I tell
How Cathlin fail'd ? Lone in a distant land
At rushy Lutnon is her silent tomb.
Near it Sulmalla, in the days of grief, 510
Ketir'd, and for the daughter of strangers oft'
Rais'd the soft song, and touch'd the mournful lyre.
Come from the watch of night, Malvina, lonely beam.
END OF CATHLIN OF CLUTHA,

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