Page:Fragments of Ancient Poetry.djvu/55

 O maid, I have lost my fame. Fixed on a tree by the brook of the hill, is the shield of Gormur the brave, whom in battle I slew. I have wasted the day in vain, nor could my arrow pierce it.

me try, son of Oscian, the skill of Dargo's daughter. My hands were taught the bow: my father delighted in my skill.

went. He stood behind the shield. Her arrow flew and pierced his breast.