Blair Collection > Celtic magazine > Volume 2

340 THE CELTIC MAGAZINE.
Soft heaved, and feU upon her bosom white ;
Forward she leant, and drew the ^viIling string —
Her arm behind her made a lovely ring.
Like snow on Cromla which the winters fling.
White-armed huntress of the desert isle,
Come to my bosom, gather up a smile !
She weeps her hours in sad and comitless tears,
Her thoughts on Conloch, first among his peers.
Where is thy lover — where his place of rest 1
Thou maid whose locks are heaving round thy breast
Guhona — A frowning cliff o'orhangs the foaming seas,
The moss of age is on the hoaiy trees' —
Wliero breaking billows never find repose,
And nigh at hand the sunny haunt of roes :
There, there the towers of my lover rise ;
The quivered daughters of the cliase he spies,
And looks upon them with disdainful eyes.
" Where is Guhona ! Itumar's daughter, Avhero f
The maids are silent under gloomy care.
My peace, my lover, dweUs on Mora's strand —
thou who comest from a distant land !
Tosear — Eeturn, Guhona, to thy lover's towers.
Where skilful harps beguile the lightsome hours ;
Thy lover, Conloch, is a friend to me.
Within his haUs I feasted once with glee.
May gentle gales that blow from Erin's Isle,
Waft thee to Mora and thy lover's smile ;
There find sweet love, delightsome to thy soul.
But Toscar's days are darker as they roll —
A lonely cave my aged form shall shield.
Whence I sliall look upon the sun a-field :
A gentle breath is stirring in the trees —
1 hear the voice, upon the moaning breeze,
Of fair Guhona, sad and ill at ease —
The maiden's voice is distant from mine ear.
In Conloch's halls, where reigns the festive cheer.
Guhona — What cloud is this that close around me gathers \
Within its skirts that bears my mighty fathers ?
Their airy robes are subject to my ken.
Like hoary mists that circle on the Ben.
When, valiant father ! shall I yield my breath?
My soul is son-owful and sad to death.
Would that, my Conloch, once I saw thy face,
Ere death shaU fold me in his cold embrace.
Ossian — Thy lover, fair Guhona, comes to thee —
He sweeps across the foamings of the sea,