Fragments Of Ancient Poetry, Fragment IV

CONNAL,    CRIMORA,     CRIMORA.     Who cometh from the hill, like     a cloud tinged with the beam     of the west? Whose voice is that, loud     as the wind, but pleasant as the harp of     Carryl? It is my love in the light of     steel; but sad is his darkened brow.     Live the mighty race of Fingal? or     what disturbs my Connal?     CONNAL.     They live. I saw them return from     the chace, like a stream of light. The     sun was on their shields: In a line they     descended the hill. Loud is the voice of     the youth; the war, my love, is near.     To-morrow the enormous Dargo comes     to try the force of our race. The race of     Fingal he defies; the race of battle and     wounds.     CRIMORA.     Connal, I saw his sails like grey mist     on the sable wave. They came to land.     Connnal, many are the warriors of     Dargo!     CONNAL.     Bring me thy father's shield; the iron     shield of Rinval; that shield like the     full moon when it is darkened in the     sky.     CRIMORA.     That shield I bring, O Connal; but     it did not defend my father. By the     spear of Gauror he fell. Thou mayst     fall, O Connal!     CONNAL.     Fall indeed I may: But raise my     tomb, Crimora. Some stones, a mound     of earth, shall keep my memory.     Though fair thou art, my love, as the     light; more pleasant than the gale of     the hill; yet I will not stay. Raise my     tomb, Crimora.     CRIMORA,     Then give me those arms of light;     that sword, and that spear of steel. I     shall meet Dargo with thee, and aid my     lovely Connal. Farewell, ye rocks of     Ardven! ye deer! and ye streams of     the hill!--We shall return no more.     Our tombs are distant far.