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THE DEATH OF CARRTL.
VIII.
" Carril ! my child ! my own — my lovely boy !
Thy wounds afflict thy sire, and many a friend !"
Said Fingal, mournful in his altered joy :
As mourns the sun, when wintry clouds impend.
IX.
" Carril ! my darling ! dreary is the hour ! —
Thine eyes are closed — thy teeth of whiteness fast
Thy beauty altered like the faded flower —
Thy strength departed like the desert blast !
X.
" Not ever more to seek the battle field
Shalt thou, my fair, be seen witli manly tread ;
Z<o more, young warrior, shall thy sounding sliield
Be heard, approaching to thy father's aid '.
XI.
" Hads't thou been vanquished by a stranger host,
Or by the Alonarch of the World's '2) proud peers-
Then I'd revenge thy death, Carril, lost 1 —
Upon the Britons of triumphant spears !

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