Volume I Part 46 (1/2)

All lightsome are beaming.

When that lightfoot so airy, Her race is pursuing, Oh, what vision saw e'er a Feat of flight like her doing?

She springs, and the spreading gra.s.s Scarce feels her treading, It were fleet foot that sped in Twice the time that she flew in.

The gallant array!

How the marshes they spurn, In the frisk of their play, And the wheelings they turn,-- As the cloud of the mind They would distance behind, And give years to the wind, In the pride of their scorn!

'Tis the marrow of health In the forest to lie, Where, nooking in stealth, They enjoy her[113] supply,-- Her fosterage breeding A race never needing, Save the milk of her feeding, From a breast never dry.

Her hill-gra.s.s they suckle, Her mammets[114] they swill, And in wantonness chuckle O'er tempest and chill; With their ankles so light, And their girdles[115] of white, And their bodies so bright With the drink of the rill.

Through the gra.s.sy glen sporting In murmurless glee, Nor snow-drift nor fortune Shall urge them to flee, Save to seek their repose In the clefts of the knowes, And the depths of the howes Of their own Eas-an-ti.[116]

URLAR.

In the forest den, the deer Makes, as best befits, his lair, Where is plenty, and to spare, Of her gra.s.sy feast.

There she browses free On herbage of the lea, Or marsh gra.s.s, daintily, Until her haunch is greased.

Her drink is of the well, Where the water-cresses swell, Nor with the flowing sh.e.l.l Is the toper better pleased.

The bent makes n.o.bler cheer, Or the rashes of the mere, Than all the creagh that e'er Gave surfeit to a guest.

Come, see her table spread; The _sorach_[117] sweet display'd The _ealvi_,[118] and the head Of the daisy stem; The _dorach_[119] crested, sleek, And ringed with many a streak, Presents her pastures meek, Profusely by the stream.

Such the luxuries That plump their n.o.ble size, And the herd entice To revel in the howes.

n.o.bler haunches never sat on Pride of grease, than when they batten On the forest links, and fatten On the herbs of their carouse.

Oh, 'tis pleasant, in the gloaming, When the supper-time Calls all their hosts from roaming, To see their social prime; And when the shadows gather, They lair on native heather, Nor shelter from the weather Need, but the knolls behind.

Dread or dark is none; Their 's the mountain throne, Height and slope their own, The gentle mountain kind; Pleasant is the grace Of their hue, and dappled dress, And an ark in their distress, In Bendorain dear they find.

SIUBHAL.

So brilliant thy hue With tendril and flow'ret, The grace of the view, What land can o'erpower it?

Thou mountain of beauty, Methinks it might suit thee, The homage of beauty To claim as a queen.

What needs it? Adoring Thy reign, we see pouring The wealth of their store in Already, I ween.

The seasons--scarce roll'd once, Their gifts are twice told-- And the months, they unfold On thy bosom their dower, With profusion so rare, Ne'er was clothing so fair, Nor was jewelling e'er Like the bud and the flower Of the groves on thy breast, Where rejoices to rest His magnificent crest, The mountain-c.o.c.k, shrilling In quick time, his note; And the clans of the grot With melody's note, Their numbers are trilling.

No foot can compare, In the dance of the green, With the roebuck's young heir; And here he is seen With his deftness of speed, And his sureness of tread, And his bend of the head, And his freedom of spring!

Over corrie careers he, The wood-cover clears he, And merrily steers he With bound, and with fling,-- As he spurns from his stern The heather and fern, And dives in the dern[120]

Of the wilderness deep; Or, anon, with a strain, And a tw.a.n.g of each vein He revels amain 'Mid the cliffs of the steep.

With the burst of a start When the flame of his heart Impels to depart, How he distances all!

Two bounds at a leap, The brown hillocks to sweep, His appointment to keep With the doe, at her call.

With her following, the roe From the danger of ken Couches inly, and low, In the haunts of the glen; Ever watchful to hear, Ever active to peer, Ever deft to career,-- All ear, vision, and limb.

And though Cult[121] and Cuchullin, With their horses and following, Should rush to her dwelling, And our prince[122] in his trim, They might vainly aspire Without rifle and fire To ruffle or nigh her, Her mantle to dim.

Stark-footed, lively, Ever capering naively With motion alive, aye, And wax-white, in s.h.i.+ne, When her startle betrays That the hounds are in chase, The same as the base Is the rocky decline-- She puffs from her chest, And she ambles her crest And disdain is express'd In her nostril and eye;-- That eye--how it winks!

Like a sunbeam it blinks, And it glows, and it sinks, And is jealous and shy!