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LITERALLY TRANSLATED. 323
" Their dwelling was in the dark caverns of the
waves,
" In a distant land ; a warlike race. 130
" But my soft spirit has no delight
" In tlie slow sound of death, on the plain.
" He comes, who never yields.
" Awaken the bard of mildest voice,"
Like a rock, over whose side a streamlet trickleSf
In the desart of low hills, 156
Stood Cathmor, valiant chief!
In tears.
Like a breeze, on his soul, sorrowfully.
Came the soft voice of the maiden ; 140
Awakening the memory of the land of mountains.
Her peaceful dwelling, by the streams of the vale.
Before he had come, in his wrath.
TRANSLATION.
Like a dropping rock, in the desart, stood Cathmor,
in tears. Her voice came, a breeze, on his soul, and
waked the memory of her land ; where she dwelt by her
peaceful streams, before he came

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