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breasts like two smooth rocks on the hill which is seen from the stream of Branuin. Thy arms, as two white pillars in the hall of Fingal.
Morna.
Whence the son of Mugruch, Duchommar the most gloomy of men? Dark are thy brows of terror. Red thy rolling eyes. Does Garve appear on the sea? What of the foe, Duchommar?
Duchommar.
From the hill I return, O Morna, from the hill of the flying deer. Three have I slain with my bow; three with my panting dogs. Daughter of Cormac-Carbre, I love thee as my soul. I have slain a deer for thee. High was his branchy head; and fleet his feet of wind.
Morna.
