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 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
76
CLONAR AND TLAMIN
IMITATED FROM A LITTLE POEM IN MACPHERSON'S NOTES ON OSSIAN
“The loves of Clonar and Tlamin were rendered
famous in the north by a fragment of a lyric poem still
preserved which is ascribed to Ossian. It is a dialogue
between Clonar and Tlamin. She begins with a soliloquy,
which he overhears.”
TLAMIN.
Son of Conglas of Imor! thou first in the battle!
Oh Clonar, young hunter of dun-sided roes!
Where the wings of the wind through the tall branches rattle,
Oh, where does my hero on rushes repose?
Oh Clonar, young hunter of dun-sided roes!
Where the wings of the wind through the tall branches rattle,
Oh, where does my hero on rushes repose?
By the oak of the valley, my love, have I found thee,
Where swift from the hill pour thy loud-rolling streams;
The beard of the thistle flies sportively round thee,
And dark o'er thy face pass the thoughts of thy dreams.
Where swift from the hill pour thy loud-rolling streams;
The beard of the thistle flies sportively round thee,
And dark o'er thy face pass the thoughts of thy dreams.
Thy dreams are of scenes where the war-tempest rages:
Tlamin's youthful warrior no dangers appal:
Even now, in idea, my hero engages,
On Erin's green plains, in the wars of Fingal.
Tlamin's youthful warrior no dangers appal:
Even now, in idea, my hero engages,
On Erin's green plains, in the wars of Fingal.
77
Half hid, by the grove of the hill, I retire:
Ye blue mists of Lutha! why rise ye between?
Why hide the young warrior whose soul is all fire,
Oh why hide her love from the eyes of Tlamin?
Ye blue mists of Lutha! why rise ye between?
Why hide the young warrior whose soul is all fire,
Oh why hide her love from the eyes of Tlamin?
CLONAR.
As the vision that flies with the beams of the morning,
While fix'd on the mind its bright images prove,
So fled the young sun-beam these vallies adorning;
Why flies my Tlamin from the sight of her love?
While fix'd on the mind its bright images prove,
So fled the young sun-beam these vallies adorning;
Why flies my Tlamin from the sight of her love?
TLAMIN.
Oh Clonar! my heart will to joy be a stranger,
Till thou on our mountains again shalt be seen;
Then why wilt thou rush to the regions of danger,
Far, far from the love of the mournful Tlamin?
Till thou on our mountains again shalt be seen;
Then why wilt thou rush to the regions of danger,
Far, far from the love of the mournful Tlamin?
CLONAR.
The signals of war are from Selma resounding!
With morning we rise on the dark-rolling wave:
Towards green-vallied Erin our vessels are bounding;
I rush to renown, to the fields of the brave!
With morning we rise on the dark-rolling wave:
Towards green-vallied Erin our vessels are bounding;
I rush to renown, to the fields of the brave!
Yet around me when war's hottest thunders shall rattle,
Thy form to my soul ever present shall be;
And should death's icy hand check my progress in battle,
The last sigh of Clonar shall rise but for thee.
Thy form to my soul ever present shall be;
And should death's icy hand check my progress in battle,
The last sigh of Clonar shall rise but for thee.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |