"Yet would I ask you, now I die,
To lay me where the stream flows by
The water of Lunnan, for there in my grave
I'll hear, though I see not, its cold shining wave.
"There place a pillar stone, and bear
My Grinie some day to me there,
And well to the traveller the words shall be known,
'Tis Diarmid who lies 'neath yon Pillar of Stone.
"Oh woe is me! a foul swine's prey,
The victor lord of battle's day!
I faint, done to death, let me turn, let me lie
With my face to Ben Gulban, to see it, and die."—
OSSIAN.
In tears, and mourning sore,
Then to his grave we bore
That brave and hardy one;
On a green knoll alone,
Beneath a mighty stone
That sees the western sun.
When Grinie coming there,
At last of all aware,
Beheld his narrow bed;
As though her life took flight,
Bereft of sense and sight,
She fell, above the dead!
Then from her swoon awoke,
Her voice in cries outbroke,
And in this song of woe,
Wherein his praise was heard
In every mournful word,
Above the river's flow.
GRINIE.
Two in a fastness of rock were concealed,
Oft we lay there for a year unrevealed,
Though hidden from Fionn by the stream as it leapt,
Where it wet not the head of my love as he slept.
In the hunt's contest the keenest to share,
Hard was that bed for thy thick golden hair!
Never thought he of fear as he sprang to the cry,
When the chase was afoot, and he joined it, to die!