« PreviousContinue »
He grinn'd a scornful smile; but to the plan
The day far spent, at length to Teutha's side 2 Was Colmar brought, his hands behind him tied. O'er all the croud majestic rose his size: The chief look'd sad, on us he fix'd his eyes ; (Who under arms oppos’d in silence stood, Between us only the swift-passing flood.) When, lo! Dunthalmo basely in our sight, With his own hand dispatch'd the hapless knight: Transpierc'd he fell: his broken sighs we heard, And saw with blood the purpled banks besmear'd. Who could withhold ?-Young Calthon wild with rage, Plung'd through the stream the assassin to engage. I follow'd close, supported by my spear: : With equal fury fir'd our men appear; They breast the rapid flood, that refluent roars, And white with foam, indignant beats its shores. , We forded swift-nor sooner gain'd the banks, Than fierce we plung'd amid the hostile ranks. ; Heaps fell on heaps, and more had fall'n, but night Descending dark, unfinish'd left the fight.
We kept the field, resolv'd at break of day :: The foe to attack; who still contiguous lay Within a neighbouring wood —Beneath an oak Dunthalmo rested on a moss-grown rock; Against the Chief of Clutha burn'd his hate, Nor deem'd his vengeance till his death complete. No less enrag'd the mournful Calthon stood; Resolv’d to die, or spill the tyrant's blood, And ’venge his brother's death, in youth decreed, Ere he acquir'd a hero's fame, to bleed. . .
Studious the warrior's stormy soul to still,
Defiance hurling.–Colmal pensive view'd
Full well she saw, now war could have no mean,
The night, in darkness veiling nature's face,
All pale approach'd the harbinger of grief,
“ O sole remaining hope of Rathmor's race! “ Thy brother murder’d, canst thou rest in peace? “ Did we not to the chase together go, “ Together o'er the hills pursue the roe? “ In blood and friendship intimately join'd, “ Hath death so soon eras'd me from thy mind!!! “ At Lona’s rock my breathless body lies; . “ To save the relics of thy brother rise! • In some sequester'd place his corpse secrete, " Before the foe fresh insults can repeat.” He said; and instant vanishing from sight, Borne on the murm’ring blast, dissolv'd in night.
In clanging armour Calthon sprung.—The maid Arose, and follow'd thro' the gloomy shade, :3 Disconsolate, fatigued, and void of strength, : : Dragging along the spear's unwieldy length. Arriv'd at Lona's lonely rock, they found The mangled body stretch'd upon the ground.. When Calthon saw, his kindled fury rose, On slaughter bent he rush'd amidst the foes. Deep groans ascend; but soon enclos'd around, They seiz'd, and brought him to Dunthalmo bound. A shout of triumph shook the starry frame, it The hills of night return'd the loud acclaim. ro
From sleep awaken’d by the sudden sound, My spear I grasp’d, and started from the ground. Diäran rising at my side appear’d, And valiant Dargo stood in arms prepar'd: But horror chill'd our hearts, when looking round, The stranger warriors no where could be found. The cause unknown, and dreading loss of fame, I thus address’d my friends–O grief! O shame! What torpor numb’d, what fear withheld our hands ? Not thus our fathers fought in foreign lands; They pass'd not night in indolent repose, While near encamp’d, unconquer'd lay their foes. Like eagles active, vigilant, and strong, Their gallant deeds recorded are in song; We their descendants, a degenerate race, The great achievements of such men disgrace. How will Fingal with fire indignant glow, If we chastise not this insidious foe ? Let each his helmet brace, fix firm his shield, And trace my rapid course along the field; This monster of a king I will subdue, Or never more the walls of Selma view.
Now rising morn had brighten'd Teutha's stream, When, wrap'd in grief, to meet us Colmal came. She told how Calthon, by the hostile bands A pris’ner made, was in Dunthalmo's hands. This heard, no longer doubting he was dead, I on the stranger frown'd, and sternly said:
Son of the feeble hand! thus shedding tears,
I said; and seizing rude her mail, laid bare
'Twas bravely fought.—Nor till their leader slain, Were put to flight the gallant hostile train ; Of those that perish’d, or by whom they fell, That memorable day, who now can tell ? Their names forgot, no longer fame resounds, Nor on the heath are seen their verdant mounds: