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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.

Soraid soir go hAlbain uaim,
Fa mait radarc a cuan is gleañ,
Faire clan Uisnig a seilg,
Aoibiñ suize os leirg a beañ.

Tarla maite Alban az ól,
Is clañ Uisnig dar cóir cin,
D’ingean Tiarna dúna na treoin,
Go ttug Naoise póg gan fios.

Do cuir cuici eilid baot,
Ead alla, agus laoż re a coir
Agus do jab se ċuici 4 cuairt,
Ag fillead o †luag Inbirneas.

Mar do ċuala misi sin,
Lionas mo ceañ lán don éud,
Is teigiom um ċuraċ 4 twind,
Fa cuma liom beo na éug.

Leanaid misi amaċ 4 &naṁ,
Aindle is Ardan nar ċan bréag,
Ir fillid miri leo isteaċ,
Dias do cuiread cat 4 ċeud.

Tuz Naoire a briatar fior,
Ir no lujo po tri a-bfiadnuis arm,
Naċ ccuirfead orm brón,
Go ideaċad 4 sluaż na marb.

Tug an bean sin o dún treoin,
A briatar ṁór, sa móid mear,
Muna sgarfad sin a téag,
Naċ raċad si fein le fear.

Uċ'da ccluinead sisi anoċt, Naoise ar ndol fa leaċt í ccre, Do żuilead si go beaċt,

Is do guiliñsi fa seaċt lei.

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, tnose 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, gan clañ Uirneaċ, / Longistheday, without Njor tuirseaċ bejt n'a-ccuallaċd;

Mic rig fa silti deora,

Tri leogain ĉnuie na hÚamaċ./ Three Lions on the Hells of Aw

Tri leañain do minaib Brestam, / Three favourites with
Tri seabaic fleibe Guiliñ, /Three howwks on the side of
Rig milide dar geill na gaisgide koyal Champions
Is da dtugdaois aṁus urraim.

Triar laoić naċar mait fa uraim,

A ttuitiom is cuis cruaid e ;

Tri mic inžine Chatfand, / three sons of Chafais daughte Tri gabla cata Cuailgne./hree spears in the wars of Cosina

Triar do hoilead ag Aoife,
Aga mbiad crioċa fa ċánaiż,
Tri huaitne briste ċata,
Triar dalta ro bi aig Sgażaċ.

Triar dalta do bi aig Uat,
Triar laoiċ fa buan a dtreise ;
Tri mic oirdearca Uisniż,
Is tuirseaċ a bejt na neasbuid.

A se mailize dearcsnaiż doña,
A sé fuiñeaga glean éadtroma,
A se rosga uaine mar lonrad,
Is a ngruada mar żrís ċonnaiż.

A se colpa mar ċluaṁ ala,
A se ngluine gasta gléala,
A nglaca slime, sleaṁna,
A se slata fioña fearda.

Ard riż Ulad to ¿reigios
Ar élo, do grad Naoise;
Geam mo seażul na ndiaiġ,
O fearfad a cclujte caointe.

the sons of Usna

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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.

The women of Breatain

gmount Guilin

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.

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King of Ulla, I left thy love for Næsa. My days are few after him. His funeral honors are performed.

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