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TEMORA, 373
' The bursting tears of the king came do^m. He
seized my hand in silence. " Race of the daring
Trenmor !" at length he said, " I roll no cloud before
thee. Thou bumest in the fire of thy fathers. I be-
hold thy fame. It marks thy course in battle, like a
stream of light. But v/ait the coming of Cairbar ;
my son must join thy sword. He calls the sons of
Erin from all then- distant streams."
' We came to the hall of the king, where it rose in
the midst of rocks, on Mhose dark sides were the
marks of streams of old. Broad oaks bend around
with their moss. The thick birch is waving near.
Half-hid, in her shady grove, Ros-crana raises the
song. Her white hands move on the harp. I behekl
her blue rolling eyes. She was like a spirit of heaven
half-folded in the skirt of a cloud !
* Three days we feasted at Moi-lena. She rises
bright in my troubled soul. Cormac beheld me dark.
He gave the white-bosomed maid. She comes with
bending eye, amid the wandering of her heavy locks.
She came ! Straight the battle roared. Colc-ulla ap-
peared: I took my spear. My sword rose, with my
people, against the ridgy foe. Alnecma fled. Colc-
ulla fell. Fingal returned with fame.
' Renowned is he, O FUlan, who fights, in the
strength of his host. The bard pursues his steps,
through the land of the foe. But he who fights alone,
few are his deeds to other times ! He shines, to-day,
a mighty light. To-moiTow, he is low. One song
contains his fame. His name is on one dark field.
He is forgot; but where his tomb sends forth the
tufted grass.'
Such are the words of Fingal, on Mora of the roes.
Three bards, from the rock of Cormul, pour down the
pleasing song. Sleep descends in the sound, on the
broad-skirted host. Carril returned, with the bards,
from the tomb of Dun-lora's chief. The voice of
morning shall not come to the dusky bed of Duth-
caron. No more shalt thou hear the tread of roes
around thy narrow house !
As roll the troubled clouds, around a meteor of
night, when they brighten their sides with its light,
R2

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