316 



OWL 



O'n 's rai fhin a b' flicarr an airidh, 

 Air mo bhogha ro in hath iubhair. 

 No thusa aois l)liothar Sfjjallach, 

 Bhios aij^ an teallach ad shuidhe. 



Labhair an aois a rithis, 



*S mo 's righinn tlia thu leantiil, 



Ris a bhogha sin a ghiulan, 



'S giir mo ba chuibhe dliuit babi. 



Gabh thusa uaimsc 'm bata, 

 Aois ghn\nda cliairtidh na pl6ide, 

 Cha leiginn mo bhogh' leatsa, 

 Do mhathas na d*ar, eiginn. 



'S iomadh laoch a b' f hearr na thusa, 

 Dh' fhag mise gu tuisleach an-fhann, 

 'Ndeighfhaobhachadh as asheasamh, 

 Bha roimhe na f hleasgach meamnach. 



I am myself more worthy 

 Of my excellent bow of yew 

 Than thou, dciif, bald-pated age ! 

 Who sittest ghastly upon the hearth. 



Age again answered. 

 Too obstinately dost thou continue 

 To bear that tough and stubborn bow. 

 More seemly for thee were a knotted 

 staff. 



Take thou from me the knotted staff. 

 Feeble coward, old age, thou 



mendicant, 

 Shalt thou deprive me of my faithful 



bow ? 

 Offer not your bounty, O distress. 



Many a hero thy superior 

 Once bold and vigorous in youth 

 Have I left nerveless and feeble 

 Despoiling him of stature, strength, 

 and courage. 



Five verses of " Oran na Comhachaig," from the Dua?iairc, 

 being numbered there 44, 45, 46, 55, and 56. 



Bu mhath mo bhuachaile cruidh, 

 B' e sid uasal nam fear, 

 Bu deacar dhomh tarmus air d' fhuil, 

 Cha bu dubh, ach aobharrach glan. 



Bu mhath mo bharanta-cogaidh, 

 Ge do thogair rai tigh 'n uaithe, 

 (Gure Eoin a Taigh-na-creige),* 

 Bho 'n a bhagair e mo bhualadh. 



'S o'n a bhagair e rai gu teann, 

 Cho fad 's a rahaireas crann, no clach, 

 Cha tog mi h-uige mo thriall, 

 Ni mo dh' iaraim dol 'no theach. 



Soiridh uam gu Coire na cloich'. 

 An Coire 'm bu toigh learn 'bhi 



thamh, 

 'S gu Uisge-Labhair nara faobh, 

 Cuilidh nan agh maol 's nam mang. 



,fe 



Gu da thaobh Bealach-nan-sgurr, 

 'S dh' fhios an Eadar-bheallaich 



mhoir. 

 Far nach cluinnear gloir nan GaU. 



Good was my herder of cows. 

 Highest was he among men, 

 I could not belie thy blood. 

 Black was it not but pure and clean. 



Good was my war-pledge 

 Tho' I elected to leave it 

 ('Twas John of Rock-House) 

 Since he threatened to assault me. 



And as he threatened me mostdirely, 

 So long as lasted tree or stone ; 

 I'll not direct ray way to him 

 Nor seek to enter his house. 



Bear my blessing to the Corry of 



stones 

 The Corry where I loved to dwell. 

 And to the sounding Lavar water 

 The hiding place of the deer and 



hinds. 



Another blessing to " Bac-nan- 

 craobh,** 



To both sides of " Bealach-nan- 

 sgurr," 



And tell them in great " Eadar- 

 bheallach," 



Where the Lowland speech is not 

 heard. 



The site of Maclan's castle, Glencoe. 



