The distress of Deardra may be conceived. Alone, distracted with grief, she calls to mind every circumstance that endeared her Næsa to her; and with a self-tormenting ingenuity, in which grief is fertile, reflects upon those transient interruptions, which might have occasioned uneasiness in the time that was past, and now served to aggravate her woe. The voice of nature breathes in the following lines, in which she reflects upon her jealousy of Næsa's love. Sorajo roir 30 hAlbain uaim, Tarla maite Alban az ól, До ċujp čujci eilid Baot, War do cuala misi sin, Leanaid misi amac 4 snam, Tuz Naoise a briatar fjor, Tuz an bean sin o dún treoin, Uč'da cclujnead sisi anoċt, Farewell for ever, fair coasts of Alban; your bays and vales shall no more delight me. There oft I sat upon the hill, with Usna's sons, and viewed the chace below. The chiefs of Alban met at the banquet. The valiant sons of Usna were there: and Næsa gave a secret kiss to the fair daughter of the chieftain of Dundron. He sent her a hind from the hill, and a young fawn running beside it. Returning from the hosts of Inverness, he visited her by the way. My heart was filled with jealousy, when I heard the news. I took my boat and rushed upon the sea, regardless whether I should live or die. Ainli and Ardan, those faithful, valiant youths swam after me, and brought me back again to land. Then Næsa pledged his word to me, and swore three times upon his warlike arms, he never more would give me cause of pain, until he should descend into the grave. The lady of Dundron likewise swore with a solemn vow, that as long as Næsa lived on earth, she never would accept the love of any man. Ah! did she hear this night that Næsa was laid in his grave, great would be her lamentation, but seven times greater would be mine. Having indulged in these painful, pleasing reflections of her lover's wandering, and his affectionate return; and lost in sympathetic feeling for a rival's sorrow, the jealousy that it had excited, she concludes with the following funeral song: Fada an la, zan clan Uisneac, Tri leañain to mnajb Breatain, Trjar laojė naċar majd fa usmaim, Triar do hoilead 43 Aoife, Triar dalta do 61 413 Uat, A re mailige dearcsnaig doña, A re colpa man čluam ala, Ар115 ס Ulad το treigior Long, long is the day to me. The sons of Usna are gone. Their converse was sweet; but now the heroes cause my tears to flow. They were as lions on the hills of Emana. To the damsels of Breatan they were dear. As hawks upon the mountains, they darted on the foe. The brave submitted to them, and the nobles did them honor. Never did they yield in battle. Ah woe is me that they are gone. Sons of the daughter of Caifi, you were a host in the wars of Cualna. Beneath the care of Aifi they were reared. The countries round paid tribute to them. Bursting as a flood in battle were the youths of Sgatha. Uatha, watched over their youth. The heroes were valiant in fight. Renowned sons of Usna I weep, for you have left me to mourn. Dark brown were their eye-brows; their bright eyes sparkled underneath, and their cheeks were as the embers of flame. Their legs as the down of the swan; light and active were their limbs: soft and gentle their hands, and their arms were fair and manly. King of Ulla, I left thy love for Næsa. My days are few after him. His funeral honors are performed. |