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Mora dies—The vision grows dim on my mind:—I behold the .# no more. But, O. ye bards of future times, remember the fall of Conlath with tears; he fell before his day (1); and sadness darkened in his hall. His mother looked to his shield on the wall, and it was bloody (2). She knew that her hero died, and her sorrow was heard on Mora.
. (1) It was the opinion of the times, that the arms left by the heroes at home , became bloody the very instant their owners were killed , though at ever so great a distance.