Galic Antiquities

A P O E M. 283
Heps on the heath. My image grew a lovely tree within her foul,
and (lie trembled for the growing blaft.
*
If it lay thy green
branches low, no leaf of mine,' fhe faid, ' fliall flovirifh; no voice
of the fpring fhall awake my beauty.'—In the evening we found
the beam of light in our cave. Her yellow locks wandered, on
her blufliing face, in the midfl of tears, as flie told the tale of
death.—' Shun,' fhe faid, ' the cave this night ; but tell not the
fleps of lulorno were nigh it. The foul of my father is dark, a$
the gathering of night in the narrow houfe ; why flaould he know
that his daughter loves the chief of Sliruth ?'
" She funk in her cloud, and retired ; like the moon of heaven
when fhe hath fliewn the bewildered traveller his path on the
heath. He was wandering thoughtlefs on the face of a rock ; the
beam fhone around him : quick he turns his fleps ; and bleffes the
light that faved him.
*'
We fought with the warriors of night, and prevailed. "We
went for lulorno,
but the fteel of her father had pierced her breaft.
Nigh his gate we found her in her blood.
She was fair as the dying
fwan on the foam of the ftream of Lano, when the arrow of
the hunter is in her breafl, and her down is lifted by the breath
of gales.—Her brother afked her why flie would not rife ; and
afked us, wondering, why we wept ?—I gave the child a fword of
light. I reared the tomb of the fair, on the fhore of her native
land.—Moon-beams fhine on the place when all is dark around ;
and virgin-ghofls breathe there, on the palling breeze, their fong.
The foul of lulorno is with them in mift ;
is mournful.
the mufic of her voice
Through every warm fhower, the fun fmiles on her
green turf, and bathes its rays in the dew of her tomb.—Three
N n 2
days