the lovely died.

Daura, my daughter! thou wert
fair; fair as the moon on the hills of
Jura; white as the driven snow; sweet as
the breathing gale. Armor renowned in
war came, and fought Daura's love; he
was not long denied; fair was the hope
of their friends.

Earch son of Odgal repined; for
his brother was slain by Armor. He
came disguised like a son of the sea:
fair was his skiff on the wave; white
his locks of age; calm his serious brow.
Fairest of women, he said, lovely daughter
of Armyn! a rock not distant in
the sea, bears a tree on its side; red
shines the fruit afar. There Armor
waiteth for Daura. I came to fetch
his love. Come, fair daughter of Armyn!

She went; and she called on Armor.
Nought answered, but the son of the
rock. Armor, my love! my love!
why tormentest thou me with fear?
come, graceful son of Arduart, come;
it is Daura who calleth thee!--Earch
the traitor fled laughing to the land.
She lifted up her voice, and cried for