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140 FINGAL. CANTO vi,
" A son of Erin thou ?" exclaim'd
The youth with cutting scornful smile ;
" A warrior too ? — be thou asham'd,
Nor vaunt thee of successful guile
From whom thou'st snar'd ; nought save disdain.
Trust his firm word, the base shall gain."
So saying, swift his sword he drew^
While from his dark eye light'ning flew.
The aged chief a look of joy
Fix'd earnest on the gallant boy.
" Put up thy sword," he said, " this arm.
Nor one of these shall work thee harm. —
Soldiers of Tarah, where's the breast
That holds not Comhal's mem'ry dear ?
Your murder'd sovVeign. Nay, represt
Be ev'ry groan, be ev'ry tear :
I lov'd him well as ye— his name

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