The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

The Death of Diarinad. 499
To Fion's camp then Diarmad came
Victorious, with his spear and shield ;
The warriors hail with loud acclaim
The victor of the field.
But Fion sits in gloom apart,
Enraged that Diarmad safe returned ;
He thought of Grainne, and his heart
With blackest passion burned.
They brought the boar to camp, and laid
In front of Fion, grim and pale :
" Brave Diarmad, measure it," he said,
" The Boar from snout to tail."
And Diarmad paced the bristled Boar
" Fion, 'tis fifteen feet," he said ;
" No, Diarmad, no ; it measures more
Measure from tail to head."
—
And back\vard Diarmad paced the Boar,
The poisoned spikes ran through his heel
" O Fion, I am wounded sore.
My veins the venom feel.
But lay me on that grassy mound,
And turn me to the sinking sun ;
My place is soon beneath the ground,
For Diarmad's course is run.
" No more to me the keen delight
To chase with hounds the russet deer,
No more the rapture of the fight
With shield and trusty spear.
O sweet our life on Gulban's side.
And sweet the murmur of the rill,
And dear the gallant band allied
To vanquish wrong and ill !
"The battle-cry no more I'll hear,
Brown-footed Bran or hunter's horn ;
Not Ossian's song shall reach my ear,
Or voice of birds at morn.
O Fion, princeliest of our band,
Now silver gray thy yellow hair.
When combat comes o'er sea or land,.
No Diarmad will be there."