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Dear to me that eastern shore. Dear is Alban, land of delights. Never would I have forsaken it, had I not come with Næsa.
Dear is Dunfay and Dunfin, and the lofty hill that towers above them. Dear is Inis-drayon, and Dunsaivni.
Coilcuan, oh Coilcuan! where Ainli, and where Ardan came. Happily my days passed with Næsa, in the western parts of Alban.
Glenlee, oh Glenlee ! amidst thy shady thickets I slept, or feasted with my love in Glenlee.
Glenmessan, oh Glenmessan ! rich were thy herbs, and bright thy greens. Lulled by the falling stream we reposed, on Inver's banks in Glenmessan.
Gleneich, oh Gleneich ! there my dwelling first was fixed. The woods smile when the rising sun casts his rays on Gleneich.
Glenarchon, oh Glenarchọn ! fair is the vale below Dromchon. Sportive as childhood were my hours with Næsa, in the blooming vales of Glenarchon.
Glendarua, oh Glendarua ! thy inhabitants to me were dear. The birds sung sweetly on the bending boughs, that waded over Glendarua.
Dear to me is that spreading shore. Dear those sandymargined streams. Never would I have forsaken you, had I ngi come with my love.
Cananeafor metalo Calettes
Calelles mateid frequent use of it, and in the Ballads on the Cid, we have
. humerous littomas
She ceased to sing. The vessel approached the shore, and the fugitives returned once more to Erin.
Still the heart of Deardra foreboded treachery. She advised her friends to go to Dundalgan, the residence of the renowned Cuchullin, and place themselves under his protection. Their ill-founded confidence, however, in the honour of Concovar prevailed upon them to proceed to Emana, his royal seat. Various were the warnings which Deardra gave them of their approaching destiny: sometimes in affectionate converse, and frequently in plaintive songs. Nothing, however, could avert the impending blow, and the sons of Usna arrived, with their fair companion, at Emana; whilst Concovar sat at the feast with his chieftains.
They were received with much appearance of kindness; and under pretence of distinction, placed in the castle of the Red Branch, with guards to wait upon them. At length the gathering storm burst over their heads; a body of foreign troops was sent to rescue Deardra from the sons of Usna, and then to burn the castle which contained them. The native troops of Ulla, though bound to obey the authority of Concovar, would not inbrue their hands in the blood of the heroes.
After ineffectual attempts on the part of the assailants, and prodigies of valour performed by the sons of Usna, they at length effected their escape with Deardra. But being still pursued, at length they fell, overpowered by the number of their enemies.
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 ber woe.
The voice of nature breathes in the following lines, in which she reflects upon her jealousy of Næsa's love.
Sorajo roir go hAlbain uaim,
Tarla maite Albañ az ól,
Do cuir cujci eilio 6400,
War do įuala miri rin,
leanaid miri amac 4 inan,
Tug Naoise a brjatar fior,
Tug an bean rin o öún creoin,
uc'oa cclujnego riri 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, taose 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: