THE
DEATH
of
CUCHULLIN
:
A
POEM
Tradition
throws
considerable
light
on
the
history
of
Ireland
,
during
the
long
reign
of
Fingal
,
the
son
of
Comhal
,
in
Morven
.
—
Arth
,
the
son
of
Cairbre
,
supreme
king
of
Ireland
,
dying
,
was
succeeded
by
his
son
Cormac
,
a
minor
.
—
The
petty
kings
and
chiefs
of
the
tribes
met
at
Temora
,
the
royal
palace
,
in
order
to
chuse
,
out
of
their
own
number
,
a
guardian
to
the
young
king
.
Disputes
,
concerning
the
choice
of
a
proper
person
,
run
high
,
and
it
was
resolved
to
end
all
differences
by
giving
the
tuition
of
the
young
king
to
Cuchullin
,
the
son
of
Semo
,
who
had
rendered
himself
famous
by
his
great
actions
,
and
who
resided
,
at
the
time
,
with
Connal
,
the
son
of
Caithbat
,
in
Ulster
.
Cuchullin
was
but
three
and
twenty
years
old
,
when
he
assumed
the
management
of
affairs
in
Ireland
:
and
the
invasion
of
Swa
ran
happened
two
years
after
.
In
the
twen
ty-seventh
year
of
Cuchullin's
age
,
and
the
third
of
his
administration
,
Torlath
,
the
son
of
Cantéla
,
set
up
for
himself
in
Con
naught
,
and
advanced
towards
Temora
,
in
order
to
dethrone
Cormac
.
Cuchullin
marched
against
him
,
came
up
with
him
at
the
Lake
of
Lego
,
and
totally
defeated
his
forces
.
Torlath
fell
in
the
battle
by
Cuchullin's
hand
;
but
as
he
himself
pressed
too
eagerly
on
the
flying
enemy
,
he
was
mortally
wounded
by
an
arrow
,
and
died
the
second
day
after
.
The
good
fortune
of
Cormac
fell
with
Cuchullin
:
many
set
up
for
themselves
,
and
anarchy
and
confusion
reigned
.
At
last
Cormac
was
taken
off
,
nobody
knew
how
;
and
Cairbar
,
one
of
the
competitors
for
the
throne
,
having
defeated
all
his
ri
vals
,
became
sole
monarch
of
Ireland
.
—
The
family
of
Fingal
,
who
were
in
the
in
terest
of
Cormac's
family
,
were
resolved
to
deprive
Cairbar
of
the
throne
he
had
usurped
;
in
particular
,
Oscar
the
son
of
Offian
had
determined
to
revenge
the
death
of
Cathol
,
his
friend
,
who
had
been
assas
sinated
by
Cairbar
.
—
The
threats
of
Oscar
reached
Cairbar's
ears
:
he
invited
him
in
a
friendly
manner
to
a
feast
which
he
had
prepared
at
the
royal
palace
of
Temora
,
resolving
to
pick
a
quarrel
,
and
have
some
pretext
for
killing
him
.
The
quarrel
happened
;
the
followers
of
both
fought
,
and
Cairbar
and
Oscar
sell
by
mutual
wounds
:
in
the
mean
time
Fingal
arrived
from
Scotland
with
an
army
,
de
feated
the
friends
of
Cairbar
,
and
re-esta
blished
the
family
of
Cormac
in
the
pos
session
of
the
kingdom
.
—
The
present
poem
concerns
the
death
of
Cuchullin
.
It
is
,
in
the
original
,
called
Duan
loch
Leigo
,
i.
e.
The
Poem
of
Lego's
Lake
,
and
is
an
episode
introduced
in
a
great
poem
,
which
celebrated
the
last
expedition
of
Fingal
into
Ireland
.
The
greatest
part
of
the
poem
is
lost
,
and
nothing
remains
but
some
epi
sodes
,
which
a
few
old
people
in
the
north
of
Scotland
retain
on
memory
.
—
Cuchul
lin
is
the
most
famous
Champion
in
the
Irish
traditions
and
poems
;
in
them
he
is
always
called
the
redoubtable
Cuchullin
;
and
the
fables
concerning
his
strength
and
va
lour
are
innumerable
.
Ossian
thought
his
expedition
against
the
Fir-bolg
,
or
Belgae
of
Britain
,
a
subject
fit
for
an
epic
poem
;
which
was
extant
till
of
late
,
and
was
called
Tora-na-tana
,
or
a
Dispute
about
Pos
sessions
,
as
the
war
which
was
the
founda
tion
of
it
,
was
commenced
by
the
British
Belgae
,
who
inhabited
Ireland
,
in
order
to
extend
their
territories
.
—
The
fragments
that
remain
of
this
poem
are
animated
with
the
genuine
spirit
of
Ossian
;
so
that
there
can
be
do
doubt
that
it
was
of
his
composition
.
.
IS
the
wind
on
Fingal's
shield
?
Or
is
the
voice
of
past
times
in
my
hall
?
Sing
on
,
sweet
voice
,
for
thou
art
pleasant
,
and
car
riest
away
my
night
with
joy
.
Sing
on
,
O
Bragela
,
daughter
of
Car-borne
Songlan
!
IT
is
the
white
wave
of
the
rock
,
and
not
Cuchullin's
sails
.
Often
do
the
mists
deceive
me
for
the
ship
of
my
love
!
when
they
rise
round
some
ghost
,
and
spread
their
gray
skirts
on
the
wind
.
Why
dost
thou
delay
thy
coming
,
son
of
the
generous
Semo
?
—
Four
times
has
autumn
returned
with
its
winds
,
and
raised
the
seas
of
Togorma
Togorma
,
i.
e.
The
island
of
blue
waves
,
one
of
the
Hebrides
,
was
subject
to
Con
nal
,
the
son
of
Caithbat
,
Cuchullin's
friend
.
—
He
is
sometimes
called
the
son
of
Colgar
,
from
one
of
that
name
who
was
the
founder
of
the
family
.
—
Connal
,
a
few
days
be
fore
the
news
of
Torlath's
revolt
came
to
Temora
,
had
sailed
to
Togorma
,
his
na
tive
isle
;
where
he
was
detained
by
con
trary
winds
during
the
war
in
which
Cu
chullin
was
killed
.
,
since
thou
hast
been
in
the
roar
of
battles
,
and
Bragéla
distant
far
.
—
Hills
of
the
isle
of
mist
!
when
will
ye
answer
to
his
hounds
?
—
But
ye
are
dark
in
your
clouds
,
and
sad
Bragéla
calls
in
vain
.
Night
comes
rolling
down
:
the
face
of
ocean
fails
.
The
heath-cock's
head
is
beneath
his
wing
:
the
hind
sleeps
with
the
hart
of
the
de
sart
.
They
shall
rise
with
the
morning's
light
,
and
feed
on
the
mossy
stream
.
But
my
tears
return
with
the
sun
,
my
sighs
come
on
with
the
night
.
When
wilt
thou
come
in
thine
arms
,
O
chief
of
mossy
Tura
?
PLEASANT
is
thy
voice
in
Ossian's
ear
,
daughter
of
car-borne
Sorglan
!
But
retire
to
the
hall
of
shells
;
to
the
beam
of
the
burning
oak
.
—
Attend
to
the
murmur
of
the
sea
:
it
rolls
at
Dunscaich's
walls
:
let
sleep
descend
on
thy
blue
eyes
,
and
the
hero
come
to
thy
dreams
.
CUCHULLIN
sits
at
Lego's
lake
,
at
the
dark
rolling
of
wa
ters
.
Night
is
around
the
hero
;
and
his
thousands
spread
on
the
heath
:
a
hundred
oaks
burn
in
the
midst
,
the
feast
of
shells
is
smok
ing
wide
.
—
Carril
strikes
the
harp
,
beneath
a
tree
;
his
gray
locks
glitter
in
the
beam
;
the
rustling
blast
of
night
is
near
,
and
lifts
his
aged
hair
.
—
His
song
is
of
the
blue
Togorma
,
and
of
its
chief
,
Cu
chullin's
friend
.
WHY
art
thou
absent
,
Connal
,
in
the
day
of
the
gloomy
storm
?
The
chiefs
of
the
south
have
convened
against
the
car-borne
Cor
mac
:
the
winds
detain
thy
sails
,
and
thy
blue
waters
roll
around
thee
.
But
Cormac
is
not
alone
:
the
son
of
Semo
fights
his
battles
.
Semo's
son
his
battles
fights
!
the
terror
of
the
stranger
!
he
that
is
like
the
vapour
of
death
foreign
foreign
HOM.
II
.
5.
As
vapours
blown
by
Auster's
sultry
breath
,
Pregnant
with
plagues
,
and
sheding
seeds
of
death
,
Beneath
the
rage
of
burning
Sirius
rise
,
Choke
the
parch'd
earth
,
and
blacken
all
the
skies
.
POPE
.
,
slowly
borne
by
sultry
winds
.
The
sun
reddens
in
its
presence
,
the
people
fall
around
.
SUCH
was
the
song
of
Carril
,
when
a
son
of
the
foe
appeared
;
he
threw
down
his
pointless
spear
,
and
spoke
the
words
of
Torlath
:
Torlath
the
chief
of
heroes
,
from
Lego's
sable
surge
:
he
that
led
his
thousands
to
battle
,
against
car-borne
Cormac
.
Cormac
who
was
distant
far
,
in
Temora's
The
royal
palace
of
the
Irish
kings
;
Teamhrath
according
to
some
of
the
bards
.
ecchoing
halls
:
he
learned
to
bend
the
bow
of
his
fathers
;
and
to
lift
the
spear
.
Nor
long
didst
thou
lift
the
spear
,
mildly-shining
beam
of
youth
!
death
stands
dim
be
hind
thee
,
like
the
darkened
half
of
the
moon
behind
its
growing
light
.
CUCHULLIN
rose
before
the
bard
The
bards
were
the
heralds
of
ancient
times
;
and
their
persons
were
sacred
on
account
of
their
office
.
In
later
times
they
abused
that
privilege
;
and
as
their
persons
were
inviolable
,
they
satyrised
and
lampooned
so
freely
those
who
were
not
liked
by
their
patrons
,
that
they
became
a
public
nuisance
.
Screened
under
the
cha
racter
of
heralds
,
they
grosly
abused
the
enemy
when
he
would
not
accept
the
terms
they
offered
.
,
that
came
from
generous
Torlath
;
he
offered
him
the
shell
of
joy
,
and
honoured
the
son
of
songs
.
Sweet
voice
of
Lego
!
he
said
,
what
are
the
words
of
Tor
lath
?
Comes
he
to
our
feast
or
battle
,
the
car-borne
son
of
Cantéla
Cean-teola
'
,
head
of
a
family
.
?
HE
comes
to
thy
battle
,
replied
the
bard
,
to
the
sounding
strife
of
spears
.
—
When
morning
is
gray
on
Lego
,
Torlath
will
fight
on
the
plain
:
and
wilt
thou
meet
him
,
in
thine
arms
,
king
of
the
isle
of
mist
?
Terrible
is
the
spear
of
Torlath
!
it
is
a
meteor
of
night
.
He
lifts
it
,
and
the
people
fall
:
death
sits
in
the
lightning
of
his
sword
.
Do
I
fear
,
replied
Cuchullin
,
the
spear
of
car-borne
Torlath
?
He
is
brave
as
a
thousand
heroes
;
but
my
soul
delights
in
war
.
The
sword
rests
not
by
the
side
of
Cuchullin
,
bard
of
the
times
of
old
!
Morning
shall
meet
me
on
the
plain
,
and
gleam
on
the
blue
arms
of
Semo's
son
.
—
But
sit
thou
,
on
the
heath
,
O
bard
!
and
let
us
hear
thy
voice
:
partake
of
the
joyful
shell
;
and
hear
the
songs
of
Temora
.
THIS
is
no
time
,
replied
the
bard
,
to
hear
the
song
of
joy
;
when
the
mighty
are
to
meet
in
battle
like
the
strength
of
the
waves
of
Lego
.
Why
art
thou
so
dark
,
Slimora
Sila'-mor
,
great
bill
.
!
with
all
thy
silent
woods
?
No
green
star
trembles
on
thy
top
;
no
moon-beam
on
thy
side
.
But
the
meteors
of
death
are
there
,
and
the
gray
watry
forms
of
ghosts
.
Why
art
thou
dark
,
Slimora
!
with
thy
silent
woods
?
HE
retired
,
in
the
sound
of
his
song
;
Carril
accompanied
his
voice
.
The
music
was
like
the
memory
of
joys
that
are
past
,
plea
sant
and
mournful
to
the
soul
.
The
ghosts
of
departed
bards
heard
it
from
Slimora's
side
.
Soft
sounds
spread
along
the
wood
,
and
the
silent
valleys
of
night
rejoice
.
—
So
,
when
he
sits
in
the
silence
of
noon
,
in
the
valley
of
his
breeze
,
the
humming
of
the
mountain
bee
comes
to
Ossian's
ear
:
the
gale
drowns
it
often
in
its
course
;
but
the
pleasant
sound
returns
again
.
RAISE
,
said
Cuchullin
,
to
his
hundred
bards
,
the
song
of
the
noble
Fingal
:
that
song
which
he
hears
at
night
,
when
the
dreams
of
his
rest
descend
:
when
the
bards
strike
the
distant
harp
,
and
the
faint
light
gleams
on
Selma's
walls
.
Or
let
the
grief
of
Lara
rise
,
and
the
sighs
of
the
mother
of
Calmar
Calmar
the
son
of
Matha
.
His
death
is
related
at
large
,
in
the
third
book
of
Fin
gal
.
He
was
the
only
son
of
Matha
;
and
the
family
was
extinct
in
him
.
—
The
seat
of
the
family
was
on
the
banks
of
the
river
Lara
,
in
the
neighbourhood
of
Lego
,
and
probably
near
the
place
where
Cuchullin
lay
;
which
circumstance
suggested
to
him
,
the
lamentation
of
Alclétha
over
her
son
.
,
when
he
was
sought
,
in
vain
,
on
his
hills
;
and
she
beheld
his
bow
in
the
hall
.
—
Carril
,
place
the
shield
of
Caithbat
on
that
branch
;
and
let
the
spear
of
Cuchullin
be
near
;
that
the
sound
of
my
battle
may
rise
with
the
gray
beam
of
the
east
.
THE
hero
leaned
on
his
father's
shield
:
the
song
of
Lara
rose
.
The
hundred
bards
were
distant
far
:
Carril
alone
is
near
the
chief
.
The
words
of
the
song
were
his
;
and
the
sound
of
his
harp
was
mournful
.
ALCLETHA
Ald-cla'tha
,
decaying
beauty
:
probably
a
poetical
name
given
the
mother
of
Calmar
,
by
the
bard
himself
.
with
the
aged
locks
!
mother
of
car-borne
Calmar
!
why
dost
thou
look
towards
the
desart
,
to
behold
the
return
of
thy
son
?
These
are
not
his
heroes
,
dark
on
the
heath
:
nor
is
that
the
voice
of
Calmar
:
it
is
but
the
distant
grove
,
Alcletha
!
but
the
roar
of
the
mountain
wind
!
WHO
Alcletha
speaks
.
Calmar
had
promised
to
return
,
by
a
certain
day
,
and
his
mother
and
his
sister
Alona
are
represented
by
the
bard
as
looking
,
with
impatience
,
towards
that
quarter
where
they
expected
Calmar
would
make
his
first
appearance
.
bounds
over
Lara's
stream
,
sister
of
the
noble
Calmar
?
Does
not
Alclétha
behold
his
spear
?
But
her
eyes
are
dim
!
Is
it
not
the
son
of
Matha
,
daughter
of
my
love
?
IT
is
but
an
aged
oak
,
Alcletha
!
replied
the
lovely
weeping
Alona
Alúine
,
exquisitely
beautiful
.
;
it
is
but
an
oak
,
Alclétha
,
bent
over
Lara's
stream
.
But
who
comes
along
the
plain
?
sorrow
is
in
his
speed
.
He
lifts
high
the
spear
of
Calmar
.
Alclétha
,
it
is
covered
with
blood
!
BUT
it
is
covered
with
the
blood
of
foes
Acletha
speaks
.
,
sister
of
car-borne
Cal
mar
!
his
spear
never
returned
unstained
with
blood
From
the
blood
of
the
slain
,
from
the
fat
of
the
mighty
,
the
bow
of
Jona
than
returned
not
back
,
and
the
sword
of
Saul
returned
not
empty
,
2
Sam.
i.
22.
,
nor
his
bow
from
the
strife
of
the
mighty
.
The
battle
is
consumed
in
his
pre
sence
:
he
is
a
flame
of
death
,
Alona
!
—
Youth
She
addresses
herself
to
Larnir
,
Cal
mar's
friend
,
who
had
returned
with
the
news
of
his
death
.
of
the
mournful
speed
!
where
is
the
son
of
Alcletha
?
Does
he
return
with
his
fame
?
in
the
midst
of
his
echoing
shields
?
—
Thou
art
dark
and
silent
!
—
Calmar
is
then
no
more
.
Tell
me
not
,
warrior
,
how
he
fell
,
for
I
cannot
hear
of
his
wound
.
—
WHY
dost
thou
look
towards
the
desart
,
mother
of
car-borne
Calmar
?
—
SUCH
was
the
song
of
Carril
,
when
Cuchullin
lay
on
his
shield
:
the
bards
rested
on
their
harps
,
and
sleep
fell
softly
around
.
—
The
son
of
Semo
was
awake
alone
;
his
soul
was
fixed
on
the
war
.
—
The
burning
oaks
began
to
decay
;
faint
red
light
is
spread
around
.
—
A
feeble
voice
is
heard
:
the
ghost
of
Calmar
came
.
He
stalked
in
the
beam
.
Dark
is
the
wound
in
his
side
.
His
hair
is
disordered
and
loose
.
Joy
sits
darkly
on
his
face
;
and
he
seems
to
invite
Cuchullin
to
his
cave
.
SON
of
the
cloudy
night
!
said
the
rising
chief
of
Erin
;
Why
dost
thou
bend
thy
dark
eyes
on
me
,
ghost
of
the
car-borne
Calmar
?
Wouldest
thou
frighten
me
,
O
Matha's
son
!
from
the
battles
of
Cormac
?
Thy
hand
was
not
feeble
in
war
;
neither
was
thy
voice
See
Calmar's
speech
,
in
the
first
book
of
Fingal
.
for
peace
.
How
art
thou
changed
,
chief
of
Lara
!
if
thou
now
dost
advise
to
fly
!
—
But
,
Calmar
,
I
never
fled
.
I
never
feared
See
Cuchuilin's
reply
to
Connal
,
con
cerning
Crugal's
ghost
.
Fin.
b.
2.
the
ghosts
of
the
desart
.
Small
is
their
knowledge
,
and
weak
their
hands
;
their
dwelling
is
in
the
wind
.
—
But
my
soul
grows
in
danger
,
and
rejoices
in
the
noise
of
steel
.
Retire
thou
to
thy
cave
;
thou
art
not
Calmar's
ghost
;
he
delighted
in
battle
,
and
his
arm
was
like
the
thunder
of
heaven
.
HE
retired
in
his
blast
with
joy
,
for
he
had
heard
the
voice
of
his
praise
.
The
faint
beam
of
the
morning
rose
,
and
the
sound
of
Caithbat's
buckler
spread
.
Green
Ullin's
warriors
convened
,
like
the
roar
of
many
streams
.
—
The
horn
of
war
is
heard
over
Lego
;
the
mighty
Torlath
came
.
Why
dost
thou
come
with
thy
thousands
,
Cuchullin
,
said
the
chief
of
Lego
.
I
know
the
strength
of
thy
arm
,
and
thy
soul
is
an
un
extinguished
fire
.
—
Why
fight
we
not
on
the
plain
,
and
let
our
hosts
behold
our
deeds
?
Let
them
behold
us
like
roaring
waves
,
that
tumble
round
a
rock
:
the
mariners
hasten
away
,
and
look
on
their
strife
with
fear
.
THOU
risest
,
like
the
sun
,
on
my
soul
,
replied
the
son
of
Semo
.
Thine
arm
is
mighty
,
O
Torlath
!
and
worthy
of
my
wrath
.
Re
tire
,
ye
men
of
Ullin
,
to
Slimora's
shady
side
;
behold
the
chief
of
Erin
,
in
the
day
of
his
fame
.
—
Carril
!
tell
to
mighty
Connal
,
if
Cuchullin
must
fall
,
tell
him
I
accused
the
winds
which
roar
on
Togorma's
waves
.
—
Never
was
he
absent
in
battle
,
when
the
strife
of
my
fame
arose
.
—
Let
this
sword
be
before
Cormac
,
like
the
beam
of
heaven
:
let
his
counsel
sound
in
Temora
in
the
day
of
danger
.
—
HE
rushed
,
in
the
sound
of
his
arms
,
like
the
terrible
spirit
of
Loda
Loda
,
in
the
third
book
of
Fingal
,
is
mentioned
as
a
place
of
worship
in
Scandi
navia
:
by
the
spirit
of
Loda
,
the
poet
pro
bably
means
Odin
,
the
great
deity
of
the
northern
nations
.
He
is
described
here
with
all
his
terrors
about
him
,
not
unlike
Mars
,
as
he
is
introduced
in
a
simile
,
in
the
seventh
Iliad
.
—
foreign
foreign
foreign
So
stalks
in
arms
the
grisly
god
of
Thrace
,
When
Jove
to
punish
saithless
men
prepares
,
And
gives
whole
nations
to
the
waste
of
wars
.
POPE
.
,
when
he
comes
in
the
roar
of
a
thousand
storms
,
and
scatters
battles
from
his
eyes
.
—
He
sits
on
a
cloud
over
Lochlin's
seas
:
his
mighty
hand
is
on
his
sword
,
and
the
winds
lift
his
flaming
locks
.
—
So
terrible
was
Cuchullin
in
the
day
of
his
fame
.
—
Torlath
fell
by
his
hand
,
and
Lego's
heroes
mourned
.
—
They
gather
around
the
chief
like
the
clouds
of
the
desart
.
—
A
thousand
swords
rose
at
once
;
a
thousand
arrows
flew
;
but
he
stood
like
a
rock
in
the
midst
of
a
roaring
sea
.
—
They
fell
around
;
he
strode
in
blood
:
dark
Slimora
ecchoed
wide
.
—
The
sons
of
Ullin
came
,
and
the
battle
spread
over
Lego
.
—
The
chief
of
Erin
overcame
;
he
returned
over
the
field
with
his
fame
.
—
But
pale
he
returned
!
The
joy
of
his
face
was
dark
.
He
rolled
his
eyes
in
silence
.
—
The
sword
hung
,
unsheathed
,
in
his
hand
,
and
his
spear
bent
at
every
step
.
CARRIL
,
said
the
king
in
secret
,
the
strength
of
Cuchullin
fails
.
My
days
are
with
the
years
that
are
past
:
and
no
morning
of
mine
shall
arise
.
—
They
shall
seek
me
at
Temora
,
but
I
shall
not
be
found
.
Cormac
will
weep
in
his
hall
,
and
fay
,
"
Where
is
Tura's
chief
?
"
—
But
my
name
is
renowned
!
my
fame
in
the
song
of
bards
.
—
The
youth
will
say
in
secret
,
O
let
me
die
as
Cuchullin
died
;
renown
cloathed
him
like
a
robe
;
and
the
light
of
his
fame
is
great
.
Draw
the
arrow
from
my
side
;
and
lay
Cuchullin
beneath
that
oak
.
Place
the
shield
of
Caithbat
near
,
that
they
may
behold
me
amidst
the
arms
of
my
fathers
.
—
AND
is
the
son
of
Semo
fallen
The
Irish
historians
have
placed
Cu
chullin
in
the
first
century
.
—
The
translator
has
given
his
reasons
for
fixing
him
in
the
third
,
in
the
dissertation
which
is
prefixed
to
this
collection
.
In
other
particulars
the
accounts
of
Keating
and
O'Flaherty
coincide
pretty
nearly
with
Ossian's
poems
,
and
the
traditions
of
the
Highlands
and
Isles
.
They
say
that
he
was
killed
in
the
twenty-seventh
year
of
his
age
,
and
they
give
him
a
great
character
for
his
wisdom
and
valour
.
,
said
Carril
with
a
sigh
?
—
Mournful
are
Tura's
walls
;
and
sorrow
dwells
at
Dunscaich
.
—
Thy
spouse
is
left
alone
in
her
youth
,
the
son
Conloch
,
who
was
afterwards
very
famous
for
his
great
exploits
in
Ireland
.
He
was
so
remarkable
for
his
dexterity
in
handling
the
javelin
,
that
when
a
good
marksman
is
described
,
it
has
passed
into
a
proverb
,
in
the
north
of
Scotland
,
He
is
unerring
as
the
arm
of
Conloch
.
of
thy
love
is
alone
.
—
He
shall
come
to
Bragela
,
and
ask
her
why
she
weeps
.
—
He
shall
lift
his
eyes
to
the
wall
,
and
see
his
father's
sword
.
—
Whose
sword
is
that
?
he
will
say
:
and
the
soul
of
his
mother
is
sad
.
Who
is
that
,
like
the
hart
of
the
desart
,
in
the
murmur
of
his
course
?
—
His
eyes
look
wildly
round
in
search
of
his
friend
.
—
Connal
,
son
of
Colgar
,
where
hast
thou
been
,
when
the
mighty
fell
?
Did
the
seas
of
Togorma
roll
round
thee
?
Was
the
wind
of
the
south
in
thy
sails
?
The
mighty
have
fallen
in
battle
,
and
thou
wast
not
there
.
—
Let
none
tell
it
in
Selma
,
nor
in
Morven's
woody
land
;
Fingal
will
be
sad
,
and
the
sons
of
the
desart
mourn
.
By
the
dark
rolling
waves
of
Lego
they
raised
the
hero's
tomb
.
—
Luäth
It
was
of
old
,
the
custom
to
bury
the
favourite
dog
near
the
master
.
This
was
not
peculiar
to
the
ancient
Scots
,
for
we
find
it
practised
by
many
other
nations
in
their
ages
of
heroism
.
—
There
is
a
stone
shewn
still
at
Dunscaich
in
the
isle
of
Sky
,
to
which
Cuchullin
commonly
bound
his
dog
Luath
.
—
The
stone
goes
by
his
name
to
this
day
.
,
at
a
distance
,
lies
,
the
companion
of
Cuchullin
,
at
the
chace
.
—
Blest
This
is
the
song
of
the
bards
over
Cu
chullin's
tomb
.
Every
stanza
closes
with
some
remarkable
title
of
the
hero
,
which
was
always
the
custom
in
funeral
clegies
.
—
The
verse
of
the
song
is
a
lyric
measure
,
and
it
was
of
old
sung
to
the
harp
.
be
thy
soul
,
son
of
Semo
;
thou
wert
mighty
in
battle
.
—
Thy
strength
was
like
the
strength
of
a
stream
:
thy
speed
like
the
eagle's
They
were
swifter
than
eagles
,
they
were
stronger
than
lions
.
2
Sam.
i.
23.
wing
.
—
Thy
path
in
the
battle
was
terrible
:
the
steps
of
death
were
behind
thy
sword
.
—
Blest
be
thy
soul
,
son
of
Semo
;
car-borne
chief
of
Dunscaich
!
THOU
hast
not
fallen
by
the
sword
of
the
mighty
,
neither
was
thy
blood
on
the
spear
of
the
valiant
.
—
The
arrow
came
,
like
the
sting
of
death
in
a
blast
:
nor
did
the
feeble
hand
,
which
drew
the
bow
,
perceive
it
.
Peace
to
thy
soul
,
in
thy
cave
,
chief
of
the
isle
of
Mist
!
THE
mighty
are
dispersed
at
Temora
:
there
is
none
in
Cor
mac's
hall
.
The
king
mourns
in
his
youth
,
for
he
does
not
behold
thy
coming
.
The
sound
of
thy
shield
is
ceased
:
his
foes
are
gathering
round
.
Soft
be
thy
rest
in
thy
cave
,
chief
of
Erin's
wars
!
Bragéla
will
not
hope
thy
return
,
or
see
thy
sails
in
ocean's
foam
.
—
Her
steps
are
not
on
the
shore
:
nor
her
ear
open
to
the
voice
of
thy
rowers
.
—
She
sits
in
the
hall
of
shells
,
and
sees
the
arms
of
him
that
is
no
more
.
—
Thine
eyes
are
full
of
tears
,
daughter
of
car-borne
Sorglan
!
—
Blest
be
thy
soul
in
death
,
O
chief
of
shady
Cromla
!