The Poetry Corner

Preface To Diarmid's Story

By John Campbell

Best beloved of ancient stories Are our Diarmid's woes to me. Like a mist, by breezes broken, So this tale of olden glories Floats in fragments, as a token Of the song of Ireland's sea. Through long centuries repeated Lived the legend told in Erse, But a change comes swift or slowly Fades the language, and defeated Flies the faith, once counted holy, Old-world ways, and oral verse. Not from men of note or learning May we gather now these tales, Heard beneath the cotter's rafter, Or where smithy sparks are burning, Or at sea, when hushed the laughter Of the breeze on hull and sails. Then with Ossian's rhythmic Measure Comes upon the fancy's sight, One with golden locks; resplendent, Great and strong with eyes of azure, And, again in the ascendant, Magic reasserts her might. Nought can wound him, sword or arrow, Only powerless are the spells Where on the footsole implanted There is hid a birth-mark narrow, But this hero's brow enchanted Every woman's love compels. Woe to him, that she whose glances Won the king on Denmark's shore, Evil, beautiful, imperious, Born where wheel the grisly dances Through the glen of ghosts mysterious, Love's first passion for him bore. For she saw his forehead bending O'er the snarling dogs at strife At the wedding-feast of greeting; And at dusk unto him wending, "Come," she said, "let this our meeting Pledge my soul to thee for life." "If, O queen, we go together, Not with friends, nor yet alone Must thou be, nor sheltered ever, Housed, nor braving wind and weather; If on horse or foot, then never Can thy love to me be known!" Flight were shield and fence far surer Gainst a wily woman's ways Than the wit of man; for seated Ere the dawn, his fair allurer At his open door repeated All his words, with longing gaze. "Go with me, O Diarmid; see me Not on horse, or foot; with friends, Nor alone; not night or morning Reigns: O come; thou wilt not flee me? Never lived a warrior scorning Every joy that loving lends!" Then at last by her caresses Into flight and guilt beguiled, Diarmid loathed his life, abiding In the caves' or woods' recesses, Like a thief or coward hiding, To his fate unreconciled. Thus the mightiest magician Warped the true and loyal heart, And he fled with her, forsaking. Friends and kinsfolk, while contrition Gnawed into his life's days, making Sad his journey, hard his part. He, a fugitive, whose valiance Made the Feinne fair Erin's boast! Where the red cascade descended, Lovely Grinie's evil dalliance Held him thrall as though were ended Noble warring with the host. He a slave! whose oaths had ever Bade him "champion the oppressed," Pledged him to "confound the clever, Aid the losing man's endeavour, Be the first in fight, and never Heedless of the king's behest" Once upon a rock, tree-shrouded, Hungry they had climbed to eat Where the scarlet berries clustered: Suddenly below them crowded Dogs and huntsmen, 'til were mustered All the Feinne beneath their feet. Fionn, then, their grim commander, Dreaming not his wife was near, Had a giant chess-board graven On the sod, and played; and under The green leaves which gave him haven Diarmid watched the game in fear. Oscar lost, with Fionn playing, Until Diarmid, from on high Dropped the scarlet seeds to guide him, Thus his presence there betraying: And the friends of Fionn eyed him, Shouting, "Thou shalt surely die!" But all Diarmid's comrades for him Fought, each venturing his life: And amid the dread commotion Fled the twain, until before him To the peaceful sands of ocean Ran a woodland stream of strife. Dwelling on its banks he made him There the wooden bowls that none Fashioned with the dirk so deftly. But the chattering stream betrayed him: From the secret forest swiftly Flashed white shavings in the sun. Then the king cried, "Grinie's lover Near us hath his lurking place! Sound the hunting horns around him! See if from the thickets' cover By the ancient vows that bound him He shall come to join the chase!" * * * * * How the queen bore his upbraiding; How his death in hunting came, Tell the verses here translated: Lights are they, in transit fading, Scattered sparks, oblivion fated, Memories from a mighty flame!