J. F. Campbell Collection > Temora, an ancient epic poem, in eight books

An epic poem. 67
is thy fame my Con: but ftrong are the foes of Erin. They are
like the roar of ftreams in the land, fon of car-borne Comhal.
Yet they may be rolled* away, I faid in my rifmg foul. We
are not of the race of the feeble, king of blue-fliielded hofts.
Why fliould fear come amongft us, like a ghofl of night ? The
foul of the valiant grows, as foes increafe in the field. Roll no
darknefs, king of Erin, on the young in war.
The burfling tears of the king came down. He feized my hand
in filence. " Race of the daring Trenmor, I roll no cloud be-
fore thee. Thou burnell in the hre of thy fathers. I behold thy
fame. It m.arks thy courfe in battles, like a ftream of light.
But wait the coming of Cairbar -f- : my fon mufl join thy fv/ord.
He calls the fons of Ullin, from all their diilant ftreams."
We came to the hall of the king, where it rofe in the midfl; of
rocks: rocks, on whofe dark fides, were the marks of ftreams of old.
Broad oaks bend around with their mofs : the thick birch waves
its green head. Half-hid, in her fliady grove, Ros-crana raifed the
fong. Her white hands rofe on the harp. I beheld her blue-roll-
* Cormac had faid that the foes were murdered by Cairbar the fon of Borbar-
Uke the rear of Jirearm, and Fingal conti- duthul. — Cairbar, the fon of Cormac, long
nues the metaphor. The fpeech of the after his fon Artho was grown to man's
young hero is fpirited, and confiftent with ellate, had, by his wife Beltanno, another
that fedate intrepidity, which eminently fon, whofe name was Ferad-artho. — He
diftinguiflies his charaRer throughout. was the only one remaining of the race of
t Cairbar, the fon of Cormac, was af- Conar the firft king of Ireland, when Fin-
terwards king of Ireland. His reign was gal's expedition againft Cairbar the fon of
fhort. He was fucceeded by his fon Ar- Borbar-duthul happened. See more of
tho, the father of that Cormac who was Ferad artho in the eighth book,
K 2 insr