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But mov'd unaw'd to meet the hostile band,
The gloomy tyrant hearing, inly burn'd
The son of Usnoth stung, without reply On his companions silent cast his eye,
Whose Whose vengeful darts with his that instant flew,
And sent with force, three mighty warriors slew.
Then brandishing their swords, they rush'd along,
And sprung impetuous midst the thickest throng.
The ranks bor'd through, give back; as clouds recede
When their dark ridges the loud blasts invade.
Red Cairbar saw, and bade his men afar,
Maintain a distant desultory war;
At his command a cloud of shafts they pour,
And Usnoth's sons fall buried in the show'r.
So fall three oaks, that far from any wood,
On the bleak summit of some hill have stood,
Till in their strength the hurricanes descend,
And from th' adhering cliffs the saplings rend.
The passenger, who saw them lately grow,
That way returning, now beholds them low;
And wonders how alone, and plac'd so high,
They could so long the stormy winds defy.
Beside the dead, with long dishevell'd hair, Dar-thula stood, an image of despair: The blooming rose her faded cheek forsook, . Approaching death star'd ghastly in her look. She would have spoke, but fault'ring on her tongue, The words half-form'd, in sounds imperfect hung. Cairbar drew near, and thus insults her woe; Ungrateful maid, where is thy lover now? Thy hopes have fail'd of reaching Etha's land Or where Fingal in Morven holds command.
Had not the winds thy hasty flight withstood,
Thus while he ranted in unmanly strain,
Cairbar beheld, and grieving when too late, Commands his hundred bards to mourn her fate. These struck their harps, and thus the maid bewail'd: "Hath then the first of Erin's beauties fail'd! "Let silence reign, where high Selama's brow "O'erlooks the solemn-rolling streams below; "And let the subject realms her death deplore, "The ancient race of Truthil is no more! "Here the last relick of the lineage lies; "Returning morn shall not unseal her eyes, "Nor rising sun her heavy slumbers break, "And say, Dar-thula, peerless maid, awake! "On gentle wings soft blows the fanning breeze, "In verdure cloth'd appear the mountain trees;
"Unnumber'd flow'rs with sweets perfume the air,
Thus o'er Dar-thula sung the tuneful train,