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A P O E M. 223
of Lutha, Is the flying beam ? Dwells there peace at Col-amon,
round bright Colna-dona of harps ? "
Bv Col-amon of ftreams, faid the youth, bright Colna-dona
dwelt. She dwelt ; but her courfe is now in defarts, with the
fon of the king ; he that feized her foul as it wandered thro' the
hall.
Stranger of tales, faid Tofcar, haft thou marked the warrior's
courfe ? He muft fall,— give thou that bofly fliield ! — In wrath he
took the fhield. Fair behind it rofe the breafts of a maid, white
as the bofom of a fwan, trembling on fwift- rolling waves. It was
Colna-dona of harps, the daughter of the king. — Her blue eyes
had rolled on. Tofcar, and her love arofe.
A D V E R-

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