Fragments Of Ancient Poetry, Fragment XI

Sad! I am sad indeed: nor small my     cause of woe!--Kirmor, thou hast     lost no son; thou hast lost no daughter     of beauty. Connar the valiant lives;     and Annir the fairest of maids. The     boughs of thy family flourish, O Kirmor!     but Armyn is the last of his     race.     Rise, winds of autumn, rise; blow     upon the dark heath! streams of the     mountains, roar! howl, ye tempests,     in the trees! walk through broken     clouds, O moon! show by intervals thy     pale face! bring to my mind that sad     night, when all my children fell; when     Arindel the mighty fell; when Daura     the lovely died.     Daura, my daughter! thou wert     fair; fair as the moon on the hills of     Jura; white as the driven snow; sweet as     the breathing gale. Armor renowned in     war came, and fought Daura's love; he     was not long denied; fair was the hope     of their friends.     Earch son of Odgal repined; for     his brother was slain by Armor. He     came disguised like a son of the sea:     fair was his skiff on the wave; white     his locks of age; calm his serious brow.     Fairest of women, he said, lovely daughter     of Armyn! a rock not distant in     the sea, bears a tree on its side; red     shines the fruit afar. There Armor     waiteth for Daura. I came to fetch     his love. Come, fair daughter of Armyn!     She went; and she called on Armor.     Nought answered, but the son of the     rock. Armor, my love! my love!     why tormentest thou me with fear?     come, graceful son of Arduart, come;     it is Daura who calleth thee!--Earch     the traitor fled laughing to the land.     She lifted up her voice, and cried for     her brother and her father. Arindel!     Armyn! none to relieve your Daura?     Her voice came over the sea. Arindel     my son descended from the hill;     rough in the spoils of the chace. His     arrows rattled by his side; his bow was     in his hand; five grey dogs attended     his steps. He saw fierce Earch on the     shore; he seized and bound him to an     oak. Thick fly the thongs of the hide     around his limbs; he loads the wind     with his groans.     Arindel ascends the surgy deep in     his boat, to bring Daura to the land.     Armor came in his wrath, and let fly     the grey-feathered shaft. It sung; it     sunk in thy heart, O Arindel my son!     for Earch the traitor thou diedst. What     is thy grief, O Daura, when round     thy feet is poured thy brother's blood!     The boat is broken in twain by the     waves. Armor plunges into the sea, to     rescue his Daura or die. Sudden a blast     from the hill comes over the waves.     He sunk, and he rose no more.     Alone, on the sea-beat rock, my     daughter was heard to complain. Frequent     and loud were her cries; nor     could her father relieve her. All     night I stood on the shore. All night I     heard her cries. Loud was the wind;     and the rain beat hard on the side of the     mountain. Before morning appeared,     her voice was weak. It died away, like     the evening-breeze among the grass of     the rocks. Spent with grief she expired.     O lay me soon by her side.     When the storms of the mountain     come; when the north lifts the waves     on high; I sit by the sounding shore,     and look on the fatal rock. Often by     the setting moon I see the ghosts of     my children. Indistinct, they walk in     mournful conference together. Will     none of you speak to me?--But they     do not regard their father.