The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

The Death of Diar?fiad. 493
Then Duanach spake, the old and wise :
" This task, great Fion, is not thine ;
Not on thy spear the Wild-boar dies
—
Not thine, great Prince, nor mine.
Nor thine, loved Ossian, worthy son
Of noble sire, the beast to slay ;
But thine, when eve shows victory won,
To sing the deathless lay.
" And Osgar, e'en thy magic blade
Avails not 'gainst this beast of night
The spells that round his life are laid
Are not for thee to fight.
And slim MacRonan, fleet of foot
As proudest deer in Diebadale,
He knows the swiftness of the brute
He chased without avail
" By Assynt and the Meann-chroc,
Round Fyrish hill and Ducharie,
Across the Averon to the rock
Where Fion loves to be
When in Ardross he hunts—but here
Bej-ond his sight the quarr\' ran.
Glaisan, too, knows how vain his spear,
And lall and lollan.
" Vain the strong arm of Carril bold,
And vain was Roanaidh's well-tried shield ;
At first charge of the Boar, the\' rolled
Sore-wounded on the field.
Nor profits, Goll, thy giant might ;
Nor, Finne-vel, thy matchless skill.
None of our band is here to-night
That may this Wild-boar kill."
Then flashed with sudden ire the eye
Of Fion, quick he spake, " Wliat, none !
Fold must we useless hands and cry,
Leaving this task undone?
Leader of the victorious band.
The work is mine, to rid the earth,
Spells or no spells, my sword in hand,
Of this \-ile monster-birth."
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