ページの画像
PDF
ePub

on Mora, and searched him along the wind. He thought that the blue-eyed hunter slept; he lay upon his shield. No blast came over the heath, unknown to bounding Bran.

Cathmor saw the white-breasted dog; he saw the broken shield. Darkness

Darkness is blown back on his soul; he remembers the falling away of the people. They come, a stream; are rolled away; another race succeeds. “ But some mark the fields, as they pass, with their own mighty names. The heath, through dark-brown years, is theirs; some blue stream winds to their fame. Of these

from the place of his residence. The few followers who attended him were also slain. The young wife of Ullin-clundu, who had not heard of his fall, fearing the worst on account of his long delay, alarmed the rest of his tribe, who went in search of him along the shore. They did not find him; and the beautiful widow became disconsolate. At length he was discovered, by means of his dog, who sat on a rock beside the body for some days. The stanza concerning the dog, whose name was Duchos, or Blackfoot, is descriptive.

“ Dark-sided Du-chos ! feet of wind ! cold is thy seat on rocks. He (the dog) sees the roe: his ears are high ; and half he bounds away. Ile looks around; but Ullin sleeps; he droops again his head. The winds come past; dark Du-chos thinks, that Ullin's voice is there. But still he beholds him silent, laid amidst the waving heath. Dark-sided Du-chos, his voice ne more shall send thee over the heath!” MACPHERSON.

be the chief of Atha, when he lays him down on earth. Often may the voice of future times meet Cathmor in the air ; when he strides from wind to wind, or folds himself in the wing of a storm.”

Green Erin gathered round the king, to hear the voice of his power. Their joyful faces bend, unequal, forward, in the light of the oak. They who were terrible were removed: Lubar winds again in their host. Cathmor was that beam from heaven which shone when his people were dark. He was honoured in the midst. Their souls rose with ardour around. The king alone po gladness shewed; no stranger he to war !

“Why is the king so sad,” said Malthos eagleeyed ? “Remains there a foe at Lubar? Lives there

among them who can lift the spear? Not so peaceful was thy father, Borbar-duthul, king of spears. His rage was a fire that always burned: his joy over fallen foes was great. Three days feasted the grey-haired hero, when he heard that Calmar fell: Calmar, who aided the race of Ullin, from Lara of the streams. Often did he feel, with his hands, the steel which, they said, had pierced his foe. He felt it with his hands : for Borbar-duthul's eyes had failed. Yet was the king a sun to his friends ; a gale to lift their branches round. Joy was around him in his halls : he loved the sons of Bolga. His name remains in Atha, like the awful memory of ghosts, whose presence was terrible ; but they blew the storm away. Now let the voices of Erin raise the soul of the king; he that shone when war was dark, and laid the mighty low. Fonar, from that grey-browed rock, pour the tale of other times; pour it on the wide-skirted Erin, as it settles round.”

“To me,” said Cathmor, “no song shall rise; nor Fonar sit on the rock of Lubar. The mighty there are laid low. Disturb not their rushing ghosts. Far, Malthos, far remove the sound of Erin's song. I rejoice not over the foe, when he ceases to lift the spear. With morning we pour our strength abroad. Fingal is wakened on his echoing hill."

Like waves, blown back by sudden winds,

16 Like waves blown back by sudden winds.] Par. Lost, i. 222.

On each hand the flames
Driven backward, slope their pointed spires, and rolled
In billows, leave i'the midst a horrid vale.

Erin retired at the voice of the king. Deep-rolled into the field of night, they spread their humming tribes "7. Beneath his own tree, at intervals, each bard sat down with his harp. They raised the song, and touched the string : each to the chief he loved. Before a burning oak Sulmalla touched, at times, the harp. She touched the harp, and heard, between, the breezes in her hair. In darkness near, lay the king of Atha, beneath an aged tree. The beam of the oak was turned from him; he saw the maid, but was not seen. His soul poured forth, in secret, when he beheld her fearful eye. “ But battle is before thee, son of Borbar-duthul.”

Amidst the harp, at intervals, she listened whether the warrior slept. Her soul was up; she longed, in secret, to pour her own sad song. The field is silent. On their wings, the blasts of

17 Deep rolled into the field of night, they spread their humming tribes.) See above 14. and ii. 17. From DRYDEN's Vir. gil, vi. 957.

Thick as the humming bees that hunt the golden dew
The winged army roams the field around;

The rivers and the rocks remurmur to the sound.
Hence Gray's line in the Progress of Poesy.

The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

song, and

18

night retire. The bards had ceased; and meteors came, red-winding with their ghosts. The sky grew dark; the forms of the dead were blended with the clouds. But heedless bends the daughter of Conmor, over the decaying flame. Thou wert alone in her soul, car-borne chief of Atha. She raised the voice of the touched the harp between. Clun-galo

came; she missed the maid. Where art thou, beam of light? Hunters, from the mossy rock, saw ye the blue-eyed fair? Are her steps on grassy Lumon, near the bed of roes ? Ah me! I behold her bow in the hall. Where art thou, beam of light ?"

“ Cease", love of Conmor, cease; I hear thee not on the ridgy heath. My eye is turned to the king, whose path is terrible in war. He for whom

my
soul is

up,

in the season of my rest. . Deep-bosomed in war he stands *, he beholds

18 Clun-galo, white knee, the wife of Conmór, king of Inishuna, and the mother of Sul-malla. She is here represented as missing her daughter, after she had filed with Cathmor. Mac

PHERSON.

19 Sul-malla replies to the supposed questions of her mother.

MACPHERSON. 20 Deep-bosomed in war he stands.] Bosomed high in tuft

« 前へ次へ »