OITHÓNA
:
A
POEM
Gaul
,
the
son
of
Morni
,
attended
Lathmon
into
his
own
country
,
after
his
being
defeated
in
Morven
,
as
related
in
the
preceding
poem
.
He
was
kindly
en
tertained
by
Nuäth
,
the
father
of
Lath
mon
,
and
fell
in
love
with
his
daughter
Oithona
.
—
The
lady
was
no
less
ena
moured
of
Gaul
,
and
a
day
was
fixed
for
their
marriage
.
In
the
mean
time
Fingal
,
pre
paring
for
an
expedition
into
the
country
of
the
Britons
,
sent
for
Gaul
.
He
obeyed
,
and
went
;
but
not
without
promising
to
Oithona
to
return
,
if
he
survived
the
war
,
by
a
cer
tain
day
.
—
Lathmon
too
was
obliged
to
attend
his
father
Nuäth
in
his
wars
,
and
Oithona
was
left
alone
at
Dunlathmon
,
the
seat
of
the
family
.
—
Dunrommath
,
lord
of
Uthal
,
supposed
to
be
one
of
the
Ork
neys
,
taking
advantage
of
the
absence
of
her
friends
,
came
and
carried
off
,
by
force
,
Oithona
,
who
had
formerly
reject
ed
his
love
,
into
Tromáthon
,
a
desart
island
,
where
he
concealed
her
in
a
cave
.
Gaul
returned
on
the
day
appointed
;
heard
of
the
rape
,
and
sailed
to
Tromá
thon
,
to
revenge
himself
on
Dunrom
math
.
When
he
landed
,
he
found
Oi-thona
disconsolate
,
and
resolved
not
to
survive
the
loss
of
her
honour
.
—
She
told
him
the
story
of
her
misfortunes
,
and
she
scarce
ended
,
when
Dunrommath
,
with
his
followers
,
appeared
at
the
further
end
of
the
island
.
Gaul
prepared
to
attack
him
,
recommending
to
Oithona
to
retire
,
till
the
battle
was
over
.
—
She
seemingly
obeyed
;
but
she
secretly
armed
herself
,
rush
ed
into
the
thickest
of
the
battle
,
and
was
mortally
wounded
.
—
Gaul
pursuing
the
flying
enemy
,
found
her
just
expiring
on
the
field
:
he
mourned
over
her
,
raised
her
tomb
,
and
returned
to
Morven
.
—
Thus
is
the
story
handed
down
by
tradi
tion
;
nor
is
it
given
with
any
material
difference
in
the
poem
,
which
opens
with
Gaul's
return
to
Dunlathmon
,
after
the
rape
of
Oithona
.
.
DARKNESS
dwells
around
Dunlathmon
,
though
the
moon
shews
half
her
face
on
the
hill
.
The
daughter
of
night
turns
her
eyes
away
;
for
she
beholds
the
grief
that
is
coming
.
—
The
son
of
Morni
is
on
the
plain
;
but
there
is
no
sound
in
the
hall
.
No
long-streaming
Some
gentle
taper
—
visit
us
With
thy
long
levelled
rule
of
streaming
light
.
MILTON
.
beam
of
light
comes
trembling
through
the
gloom
.
The
voice
of
Oithona
Oi-thóna
,
the
virgin
of
the
wave
.
is
not
heard
amidst
the
noise
of
the
streams
of
Duvranna
.
—
WHITHER
art
thou
gone
in
thy
beauty
,
dark-haired
daughter
of
Nuäth
?
Lathmon
is
in
the
field
of
the
valiant
,
but
thou
didst
pro
mise
to
remain
in
the
hall
;
thou
didst
promise
to
remain
in
the
hall
till
the
son
of
Morni
returned
.
Till
he
returned
from
Strumon
,
to
the
maid
of
his
love
.
The
tear
was
on
thy
cheek
at
his
departure
;
the
sigh
rose
in
secret
in
thy
breast
.
But
thou
dost
not
come
to
meet
him
,
with
songs
,
with
the
lightly-trembling
sound
of
the
harp
.
—
SUCH
were
the
words
of
Gaul
,
when
he
came
to
Dunlathmon's
towers
.
The
gates
were
open
and
dark
.
The
winds
were
bluster
ing
in
the
hall
.
The
trees
strowed
the
threshold
with
leaves
;
and
the
murmur
of
night
is
abroad
.
—
Sad
and
silent
,
at
a
rock
,
the
son
of
Morni
sat
:
his
soul
trembled
for
the
maid
;
but
he
knew
not
whither
to
turn
his
course
.
The
son
Morlo
,
the
son
of
Leth
,
is
one
of
Fingal's
most
famous
heroes
.
He
and
three
other
men
attended
Gaul
on
his
ex
pedition
to
Tromáthon
.
of
Leth
stood
at
a
distance
,
and
heard
the
winds
in
his
bushy
hair
.
But
he
did
not
raise
his
voice
,
for
he
saw
the
sorrow
of
Gaul
.
SLEEP
descended
on
the
heroes
.
The
visions
of
night
arose
.
Oithona
stood
in
a
dream
,
before
the
eyes
of
Morni's
son
.
Her
dark
hair
was
loose
and
disordered
:
her
lovely
eye
rolled
in
tears
.
Blood
stained
her
snowy
arm
.
The
robe
half
hid
the
wound
of
her
breast
.
She
stood
over
the
chief
,
and
her
voice
was
heard
.
SLEEPS
the
son
of
Morni
,
he
that
was
lovely
in
the
eyes
of
Oithona
?
Sleeps
Gaul
at
the
distant
rock
,
and
the
daughter
of
Nuäth
low
?
The
sea
rolls
round
the
dark
isle
of
Tromáthon
;
I
sit
in
my
tears
in
the
cave
.
Nor
do
I
sit
alone
,
O
Gaul
,
the
dark
chief
of
Cuthal
is
there
.
He
is
there
in
the
rage
of
his
love
.
—
And
what
can
Oithona
do
?
A
ROUGHER
blast
rushed
through
the
oak
.
The
dream
of
night
departed
.
Gaul
took
his
aspen
spear
;
he
stood
in
the
rage
of
wrath
.
Often
did
his
eyes
turn
to
the
east
,
and
accuse
the
lagging
light
.
—
At
length
the
morning
came
forth
.
The
hero
lifted
up
the
sail
.
The
winds
came
rustling
from
the
hill
;
and
he
bounded
on
the
waves
of
the
deep
.
—
On
the
third
day
arose
Tromathon
foreign
foreign
—
—
foreign
HOM.
Od.
v.
280.
Then
swell'd
to
sight
Phaeacia's
dusky
coast
,
And
woody
mountains
half
in
vapours
lost
;
That
lay
before
him
indistinct
and
vast
,
Like
a
broad
shield
amid
the
watry
waste
.
Tróm-thón
,
heavy
or
deep-sounding
wave
.
,
like
a
blue
shield
in
the
midst
of
the
sea
.
The
white
wave
roared
against
its
rocks
;
sad
Oithona
sat
on
the
coast
.
She
looked
on
the
rolling
waters
,
and
her
tears
descend
.
—
But
when
she
saw
Gaul
in
his
arms
,
she
started
and
turned
her
eyes
away
.
Her
lovely
cheek
is
bent
and
red
;
her
white
arm
trembles
by
her
side
.
—
Thrice
she
strove
to
fly
from
his
presence
;
but
her
steps
failed
her
as
she
went
.
DAUGHTER
of
Nuäth
,
said
the
hero
,
why
dost
thou
fly
from
Gaul
?
Do
my
eyes
send
forth
the
flame
of
death
?
Or
darkens
hatred
in
my
soul
?
Thou
art
to
me
the
beam
of
the
east
rising
in
a
land
unknown
.
But
thou
coverest
thy
face
with
sadness
,
daughter
of
high
Dunlathmon
!
Is
the
foe
of
Oithona
near
?
My
soul
burns
to
meet
him
in
battle
.
The
sword
trembles
on
the
side
of
Gaul
,
and
longs
to
glitter
in
his
hand
.
—
Speak
,
daughter
of
Nuäth
,
dost
thou
not
behold
my
tears
?
CAR-BORNE
chief
of
Strumon
,
replied
the
sighing
maid
,
why
comest
thou
over
the
dark-blue
wave
to
Nuäth's
mournful
daughter
?
Why
did
I
not
pass
away
in
secret
,
like
the
flower
of
the
rock
,
that
lifts
its
fair
head
unseen
,
and
strows
its
withered
leaves
on
the
blast
?
Why
didst
thou
come
,
O
Gaul
,
to
hear
my
departing
sigh
?
I
pass
away
in
my
youth
;
and
my
name
shall
not
be
heard
.
Or
it
will
be
heard
with
sorrow
,
and
the
tears
of
Nuäth
will
fall
.
Thou
wilt
be
sad
,
son
of
Morni
,
for
the
fallen
fame
of
Oithona
.
But
she
shall
sleep
in
the
narrow
tomb
,
far
from
the
voice
of
the
mourner
.
—
Why
didst
thou
come
,
chief
of
Strumon
,
to
the
sea-beat
rocks
of
Tromathon
.
I
CAME
to
meet
thy
foes
,
daughter
of
car-borne
Nuäth
!
the
death
of
Cuthal's
chief
darkens
before
me
;
or
Morni's
son
shall
fall
.
—
Oithona
!
when
Gaul
is
low
,
raise
my
tomb
on
that
oozy
rock
;
and
when
the
dark-bounding
ship
shall
pass
,
call
the
sons
of
the
sea
;
call
them
,
and
give
this
sword
,
that
they
may
carry
it
to
Morni's
hall
;
that
the
grey-haired
hero
may
cease
to
look
towards
the
desart
for
the
return
of
his
son
.
AND
shall
the
daughter
of
Nuäth
live
,
she
replied
with
a
bursting
sigh
?
Shall
I
live
in
Tromáthon
,
and
the
son
of
Morni
low
?
My
heart
is
not
of
that
rock
;
nor
my
soul
careless
as
that
sea
,
which
lifts
its
blue
waves
to
every
wind
,
and
rolls
beneath
the
storm
.
The
blast
which
shall
lay
thee
low
,
shall
spread
the
branches
of
Oithona
on
earth
.
We
shall
wither
together
,
son
of
car-borne
Morni
!
—
The
narrow
house
is
pleasant
to
me
,
and
the
gray
stone
of
the
dead
:
for
never
more
will
I
leave
thy
rocks
,
sea-surrounded
Tromáthon
!
—
Night
Oithona
relates
how
she
was
carried
away
by
Dunrommath
.
came
on
with
her
clouds
,
after
the
departure
of
Lathmon
,
when
he
went
to
the
wars
of
his
fathers
,
to
the
moss-covered
rock
of
Duthórmoth
;
night
came
on
,
and
I
sat
in
the
hall
,
at
the
beam
of
the
oak
.
The
wind
was
abroad
in
the
trees
.
I
heard
the
sound
of
arms
.
Joy
rose
in
my
face
;
for
I
thought
of
thy
return
.
It
was
the
chief
of
Cuthal
,
the
red-haired
strength
of
Dunrommath
.
His
eyes
rolled
in
fire
:
the
blood
of
my
people
was
on
his
sword
.
They
who
defended
Oithona
fell
by
the
gloomy
chief
.
—
What
could
I
do
?
My
arm
was
weak
;
it
could
not
lift
the
spear
.
He
took
me
in
my
grief
,
amidst
my
tears
he
raised
the
sail
.
He
feared
the
returning
strength
of
Lathmon
,
the
brother
of
unhappy
Oithona
.
—
But
behold
,
he
comes
with
his
people
!
the
dark
wave
is
divided
before
him
!
—
Whither
wilt
thou
turn
thy
steps
,
son
of
Morni
?
Many
are
the
warriors
of
Dun
rommath
!
MY
steps
never
turned
from
battle
,
replied
the
hero
,
as
he
un
sheathed
his
sword
;
and
will
I
begin
to
fear
,
Oithona
,
when
thy
foes
are
near
?
Go
to
thy
cave
,
daughter
of
Nuath
,
till
our
battle
cease
.
Son
of
Leth
,
bring
the
bows
of
our
fathers
;
and
the
sound
ing
quiver
of
Morni
.
Let
our
three
warriors
bend
the
yew
.
Our
selves
will
lift
the
spear
.
They
are
an
host
on
the
rock
;
but
our
souls
are
strong
.
THE
daughter
of
Nuäth
went
to
the
cave
:
a
troubled
joy
rose
on
her
mind
,
like
the
red
path
of
the
lightning
on
a
stormy
cloud
.
—
Her
soul
was
resolved
,
and
the
tear
was
dried
from
her
wildly
looking
eye
.
—
Dunrommath
slowly
approached
;
for
he
saw
the
son
of
Morni
.
Contempt
contracted
his
face
,
a
smile
is
on
his
dark-brown
cheek
;
his
red
eye
rolled
,
half-conceal'd
,
beneath
his
shaggy
brows
.
WHENCE
are
the
sons
of
the
sea
,
begun
the
gloomy
chief
?
Have
the
winds
driven
you
to
the
rocks
of
Tromáthon
?
Or
come
you
in
search
of
the
white-handed
daughter
of
Nuäth
?
The
sons
of
the
unhappy
,
ye
feeble
men
,
come
to
the
hand
of
Dunrommath
.
His
eye
spares
not
the
weak
;
and
he
delights
in
the
blood
of
strangers
.
Oithona
is
a
beam
of
light
,
and
the
chief
of
Cuthal
enjoys
it
in
secret
;
wouldst
thou
come
on
its
loveliness
like
a
cloud
,
son
of
the
feeble
hand
!
—
Thou
mayst
come
,
but
shalt
thou
return
to
the
halls
of
thy
fathers
?
DOST
thou
not
know
me
,
said
Gaul
,
red-haired
chief
of
Cuthal
?
Thy
feet
were
swift
on
the
heath
,
in
the
battle
of
car-borne
Lath
mon
;
when
the
sword
of
Morni's
son
pursued
his
host
,
in
Morven's
woody
land
.
Dunrommath
!
thy
words
are
mighty
,
for
thy
warriors
gather
behind
thee
.
But
do
I
fear
them
,
son
of
pride
?
I
am
not
of
the
race
of
the
feeble
.
GAUL
advanced
in
his
arms
;
Dunrommath
shrunk
behind
his
people
.
But
the
spear
of
Gaul
pierced
the
gloomy
chief
,
and
his
sword
lopped
off
his
head
,
as
it
bended
in
death
.
—
The
son
of
Morni
shook
it
thrice
by
the
lock
;
the
warriors
of
Dunrommath
fled
.
The
arrows
of
Morven
pursued
them
:
ten
fell
on
the
mossy
rocks
.
The
rest
lift
the
sounding
sail
,
and
bound
on
the
eccho
ing
deep
.
GAUL
advanced
towards
the
cave
of
Oithona
.
He
beheld
a
youth
leaning
against
a
rock
.
An
arrow
had
pierced
his
side
;
and
his
eye
rolled
faintly
beneath
his
helmet
.
—
The
soul
of
Morni's
son
is
sad
,
he
came
and
spoke
the
words
of
peace
.
CAN
the
hand
of
Gaul
heal
thee
,
youth
of
the
mournful
brow
?
I
have
searched
for
the
herbs
of
the
mountains
;
I
have
gathered
them
on
the
secret
banks
of
their
streams
.
My
hand
has
closed
the
wound
of
the
valiant
,
and
their
eyes
have
blessed
the
son
of
Morni
.
Where
dwelt
thy
fathers
,
warrior
?
Were
they
of
the
sons
of
the
mighty
?
Sadness
shall
come
,
like
night
,
on
thy
native
streams
;
for
thou
art
fallen
in
thy
youth
.
—
MY
fathers
,
replied
the
stranger
,
were
of
the
sons
of
the
mighty
;
but
they
shall
not
be
sad
;
for
my
fame
is
departed
like
morning
mist
.
High
walls
rise
on
the
banks
of
Duvranna
;
and
see
their
mossy
towers
in
the
stream
;
a
rock
ascends
behind
them
with
its
bending
firs
.
Thou
mayst
behold
it
far
distant
.
There
my
bro
ther
dwells
.
He
is
renowned
in
battle
:
give
him
this
glitter
ing
helmet
.
THE
helmet
fell
from
the
hand
of
Gaul
;
for
it
was
the
wounded
Oithona
.
She
had
armed
herself
in
the
cave
,
and
came
in
search
of
death
.
Her
heavy
eyes
are
half
closed
;
the
blood
pours
from
her
side
.
—
SON
of
Morni
,
she
said
,
prepare
the
narrow
tomb
.
Sleep
comes
,
like
a
cloud
,
on
my
soul
.
The
eyes
of
Oithona
are
dim
.
O
had
I
dwelt
at
Duvranna
,
in
the
bright
beam
of
my
fame
!
then
had
my
years
come
on
with
joy
;
and
the
virgins
would
bless
my
steps
.
But
I
fall
in
youth
,
son
of
Morni
,
and
my
father
shall
blush
in
his
hall
.
—
SHE
fell
pale
on
the
rock
of
Tromáthon
.
The
mournful
hero
raised
her
tomb
.
—
He
came
to
Morven
;
but
we
saw
the
darkness
of
his
soul
.
Ossian
took
the
harp
in
the
praise
of
Oithona
.
The
brightness
of
the
face
of
Gaul
returned
.
But
his
sigh
rose
,
at
times
,
in
the
midst
of
his
friends
,
like
blasts
that
shake
their
unfrequent
wings
,
after
the
stormy
winds
are
laid
.