THE WORKS O F O S S I A N, THE S O N of F I N G A L, IN TWO VOLUMES. Tranflated from the Galic Language By JAMES MACPHERSON. VOL. I. containing, FIN GAL, an Ancient EPIC POEM, INSIXBOOKSJ AND SEVERAL OTHER POEMS. Foriia faSlu patrum. Virg. - THE THIRD EDITION. LONDON: printed for T. B E c k E t and P. A. D e h o N d t, at Tully's Head, near Sarry Street, in the Strand. ^IDCCl-XV. :: l^b^O :' Lately puhlijhed, ^> Price Two Shillings, THE SECOND EDITION, ; A CRITICAL DISSERTATION ,. O N T H 1 POEMS of O S S IAN, THE ^l^^ *-^s o- N of F I N G A m'^^n- II ' !, - I I II II I I I , I I By HUGH BLAIR, D. D. One of the Minifters of the iJigh Church, and Profeffbr of -Rhetorick and Belles-Lettres, in ttie Univcrfity .:.M^.,ft.s..i;. i-'.j ' ^Edinburgh. ^..* Hj y i ^j^y..,. .u... I - ' ' ^J I . ' To which is added. An Appewdix, containing a variety of undoubted . -Tji^ t I4^n lis eftjblilhing their A uthenticity. 3ni'^ T O T H E EARL of BUTE, ^' j Knight of the moft Noble Order of ' ' ^^ the Garter, &c. &c. My Lord, ^^ IPrefume to prefent to your lordfhip a pleat edition of the Works of O com- pleat edition of the Works of Oflian. "^ They have already been honored with your approbation, and have been received with ^ applaufe by men of tafte throughout Eu- rope. This addrefs therefore is not an en- deavor to fecure the continuance of the pubr lie favor through the fan6lion of your name. Little folicitous myfelf about the reputation of an author, I pv.rmit, with no concern, the Old Bard to take his chance with the world : It proceeds, my Lord, from another caufe ; the ambition of being hereafter known to have met with your favor and protection in the execution of this work j an honor which will be envied me, perhaps, more fome time hence '* ? DEDICATION. hence than at prefent. I throw no reflexions on this age, but there is a great debt of fame owing to the Earl of Bute, which here- after will be amply paid : there is alfo fome fiiare of reputation with-held from Oflian, which lefs prejudiced times may beftow. This fimilarity between the Statefman and the Poet, gives propriety to this dedication ; though your Lord fliip's avowed patronage of literature requires no adventitious aid ta di- re<5l to you the addrefles of authors. It is with pleafurc I embrace this opportunity of teftifying in public with what perfect attach* ment, I am, my Lord, your Lordfliip's moft humble, moft obliged, and moft obedient fervant, JAMES MACPHERSON, A DISSERTATION .^; . _^, -' l'-*'?vt:; CONCERNINGTHE ANTIQUITY, &c. of the POEMS O F OSSIAN the Son of FINGAL. INQJJIRlES into the antiquities of nations afford more pleafure than any real advantage to mankind. The ingenious may form fyftems of hiftory on probabilities and a few fa6^s ; but at a great dlftance of time, their accounts muft be vague and uncertain. The infancy of ftates and kingdoms is as deftitute of great events, as of the means of tranfmitting them to pofterlty. The arts of pollllied life, by which alone fa6ls can be preferved with certainty, are the produc- tion of a well-formed community. It Is then hif- torlans begin to write, and public tranfadions to be worthy remembrance. The adlons of former times are left in obfcurlty, or magnified by un- certain traditions. Hence it Is that we find fo a much ii A DISSERTATION concerning the much of the marvellous m the origin of every nation ; pofterity being always ready to believe any thing, however fabulous, that reflels ho- nour on their anceftors. The Greeks and Ro- mans were remarkable for this wcaknefs. They fvvallowed the moft abfurd fables concerning the high antiquities of their rcfpe<^ive nations. Good liiftovlans, however, rofe very early amongftthem, and tranfmitted, with luftre, their great adions to pofterity. It is to them that they owe that unrivalled fame they now enjoy, while the great adions of other nations are in- volved in fables, or loft in obfcurity. The Cel- tic nations afford a ftriking inftance of this kind. They, though once the maftcrs of Europe from the mouth of the river Oby *, in Ruffia, to Cape Finiften'e, the weftcrn point of Gailicia in Spain, are very little mentioned in hiftory. They trufted their fame to tradition and the fongs of their bards, which, by the viciffitudc of human affairs, are long fince loft. Their an- cient language is the only monument that re- mains of them i and the traces of it being found in places fo widely diftant from each other, ferves only to Ihew the extent of their ancient power, but throws very little light on their hiftory. * Plin. 1. 6. Op Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, ill Of all the Celtic nations, that which poiTelTed old Gaul is the moft renowned ; not perhaps on account of worth fuperior to the reft, but for their wars' with a people who had hiftorians to tranfmit the fame of their enemies, as well as their own, to pofterity. Britain was firft peopled by them, according to the teftimony of the bcft authors * ; its fituation in refpe^ to Gaul makes the opinion probable ; but what puts it beyond all difpute, is that the fame cuftoms and lan- guage prevailed among the inhabitants of both in the days of Julius Caefar f. The colony from Gaul pofTelTed thcmfelves, at firft, of that part of Britain which was next to their own country ; and fprcading north- ward, by degrees, as they increafed in numbers, peopled the whole ifland. Some adventurers paffing over from thofe parts of Britain that are within fight of Ireland, were the founders of the IrilTi nation: which is a more probable ftory than the idle fables of Milefian and Gallician colonies. Diodorus Siculus ^ mentions it as a thing well known in his time, that the inhabi- tants of Ireland were originally Britons; and his teftimony is unqueftionable, when we confider * Caef. 1. 5. Tac. Agrlc. I. 1. c. 2. f Czfar, Pomp. Mel. Tacitus. % ^^^- Sic 1. 5. a 2 that, iv A DISSERTATION concerning the that, for many ages, the language and cuftoms of both nations were the fame. Tacitus was of opinion that the ancient Caledonians were of German extract. By the language and cuftoms which always prevailed in the North of Scotland, and which are undoubt- edly Celtic, one would be tempted to differ In opinion from that celebrated writer. The Ger- mans, properly fo called, were not the fame with the ancient Celtae. The manners and cuftoms of the two nations were fimilarj but their language different. The Germans * are the genuine de- fcendants of the ancient Dax, afterwards well known by the name of Daci, and paffed origi- nally into Europe by the way of the northern countries, and fettled beyond the Danube, to- wards the vaft regions of Traniilvania, Walla- chia, and Moldavia j and from thence advanced by degrees into Germany. The Celtae f, it is certain, fent many colonies into- that country, all of whom retained their own laws, language, and cuftoms ; and it Is of them, if any colonies came from Germany into Scotland, that the an- cient Caledonians were defcended. But whether the Caledonians were a colony of the Celtic Germans, or the fame with the Gauls Strabo, 1. 7. t Cf. 1. 6. Liv. 1, 5. Tac. de mor. Germ. tha Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, v that firft poiTeffed themfelves of Britain, is 2 matter of no moment at this diftance of time. Whatever their origin was, we find them very numerous in the time of Julius Agricola, which is a prefumption that the/ were long before fet- tled in the country. The form of their govern- ment was a mixture of ariftocracy and monarchy, as it was in all the countries where the Druids bore the chief fway. This order of men feems to have been formed on the fame fyftem with the Da(f^yli Idaei and Curetcs of the an- cients. Their pretended intercourfe with hea- ven, their magic and divination were the fame. The knowledge of the Druids in natural caufes, and the properties of certain things, the fruit of the experiments of ages, gained them a mighty reputation among the people. The cfteem of the populace foon increafed into a veneration for the order; which a cunning and ambitious tribe of men took care to improve, to fuch a degree, that they, in a manner, ingrofled the manage- ment of civil, as well as religious, matters. It is generally allowed that they did not abufe this extraordinary power ; the preferving thtir cha- rader of landity was fo ciTcntial to their in- fluence, that they never broke out into violence or opprelhon. Tiie chiefs were allowed 'o exe- cute the laws, but the leghlative power wa^ en - a 3 tirely vi A DISSERTATION concerning' the tirely in the hands of the Druids *. It was "by tlieir authority that the tribes were united, in times of the greateft danger, under one head. This temporary king, or Vergobretus f, was chofen by them, and generally laid down his of-^ fice at the end of the war. Thefe pricfts en-^ joyed long this extraordinary privilege among the Celtic nations who lay beyond the pale of the Roman empire. It was in the beginning of the fecond century that their power among the Caledonians begun to decline. The poems that celebrate Trathal and Cormac, anceftors to Fin-r gal, are full of particulars concerning the fall of the Druids, which account for the total filence concerning their religion in the poems that are now given to the public. The continual wars of the Caledonians againft the Romans hindered the nobili^ty from initiating the.mfelves, as the culjom formerly was, into the order of the Druids. The precepts of their re- ligion were confined to a few, and were not much attended to by a people inured to war. The Vergobretus, or chief maglftrate, was chofen without the concurrence of the hierarchy, or continued in his office agalnft their will. Continual power ftrengthe^ied his intereft among r * Cxf, I. 6, f Fer^ubrethj th man fo judge. the Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, vli the tribes, and enabled him to fend down, as hereditary to his pofterity, the office he had only received himfcif by ele^lion. On occaiion of a new war againft the King of the JVorld, as the poems emphatically call the Roman emperor, the Druids, to vindicate the honour of the order, began to refume their an- cient privilege of chufing the Vergobretus. Garmal, the fon of Tarno, being deputed by them, came to the grandfather of the celebrated Fingal, who was then Vergobretus, and com- manded him, in the name of the whole order, to lay down his office. Upon his refufal, a civil * war commenced, which foon ended in almoft the total extin6\ion of the religious order of the Druids. A icw that remained, retired to the dark receffi^s of their groves, and the caves they had formerly ufed for their meditations. It is then we find them in the circle of Jl ones, and un- heeded by the world. A total difregard for the order, and utter abhorrence of the Druidical rites cnfued. Under this cloud of public hate, all that had any knowledge of the religion oF the Druids became extinfl, and the nation fell into the laft degree of ignorance of their rites and ceremonies. It is no matter of wonder then, that Fingal and his fon OfTian make fo little, if any, jncn- a 4 ti^ii viii A DISSERTATION concerning the tion of the Druids, who were the declared cnc* mies to their fucceffion in the fupreme ma- giftracy. It is a lingular cafe, it muft be al- lowed, that there are no traces of religion in the poems afcribed to Offian ; as the poetical com- poll Lions of other nations are fo clofely conne6teA with their mythology. It is hard to account for it to thofe who are not made acquainted with the manner of the old Scottifh bards. That race of men carried their notions of martial honour to an extravagant pitch. Any aid given their heroes in battle, was thought to derogate from their fame^ and the bards immediately tranf- ferred the glory of the ac^tion to him who had given that aid. Had Offian brought down gods, as often as Homer hath done, to affift his heroes, this poem had not conlifted of eulogiums on his friends, but of hymns to thefe fuperior beings. To this day, thpfe that write in the Galic language feldom mention religion in their profane poetry ; and when they profelTedly write of religion, they ne- ver interlard with their compolitions, the ac- tions of their heroes. This cuftom alone, even though the religion of the Druids had not been previoully extinguillied, may, in fome mea- fure, account for Offian's lilence concerning the religion pf his own times. To Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems. \x To fay, that a nation is void of all religion, is the fame thing as to fay, that it does not con- iift of people endued with reafon. The tradi- tions of their fathers, and their own obfervations on the works of nature, together with that fu- perftition which is inherent in the human frame, have, in all ages, raifed in the minds of men fome idea of a fuperior being.- -Hence it is, that in the darkeft times, and amongft the moft bar- barous nations, the very populace themfelves had fome faint notion, at leaft, of a divinity. It would be doing injuftice to Oiiian, who, upon no occafion, fhews a narrow mind, to think, that he had not opened liis conceptions to that primitive and greateft of all truths. But let Oflian's religion be what it will, it is certain he had no knowledge of Chriftianity, as there is not the leaft allufion to it, or any of its rites, in his poems ; which abfolutely fixes him to an sera prior to the introduction of that religion. The perfecution begun by DiockTian, in the year 303, is the moft probable time in which the firft dawning of Chriftianity in the north of Britain can be fixed. The humane and mild charn(5>er of Conftantius Ghlorus, who commanded tl en in Britain, induced the perfecuted Chriftians t \e refuge under him. Some of them, li-r. a ^eal to propagate their tenets, or throu . -r, -.. . ;it 31^ A DISSERTATION concerning the went beyojid the pale of the Roman empire, ^d fettled among the Caledonians ; who were the more ready to hearken to their do6^rines, as the religion of the Druids had been exploded fo long before. Thess millionaries, either through choice, or to give more weight to the dodrine they ad- vanced, took poiTeffion of the cells and groves of the Druids J and it was from this retired life they had the mme of Culdees * , which in the lan- guage of the country fignified Jequejlered perfons. It was with one of the Culdees that Offian, in his extreme old age, is faid to have difputed con- cerning the Chriftian religion. This difpute is jftill extant, and is couched in verfe, according to the cuftom of the times. The extreme igno- rance on the part of Offian, of the Chril^ian te- nets, Ihews, that that religion had only been lately introduced, as it is not eafy to conceive, how one of the firft rank could be totally unac- quainted with a religion that had been known for any time in the country. The difpute bears the genuine marks of antiquity. The obfoiete phrafes and expreffions peculiar to the times, prove it to be no forgexy. If Offian then lived at the introdu(5\ion of Chriftianity, as by all ap^ Culdicl*. pearance Antiquity, ^g. of OSSIAN's Poems, xi pearance he did, his epoch will be the latter end of the third, and beginning of the fourth cen^ tury. What puts this point beyond difpute, is the allufion in his poems to the hiftory of tha times. . The exploits of Fingal againft Caracul*, the; fon of the King of the World, are among the firft brave a6lions of his youth. A complete poem, which relates to this fubje<5l, is printed in this colle^lion. In the year 2io the emperor Severus, after re- turning froni his expeditions againfl the Caledo- nians, at York fell into the tedious illnefs of which he afterwards died. The Caledonians and Maiatac, refuming courage from his indifpofi- tion, took arms in order to recover the poflef- fions they had lofl. The enraged emperor com- manded his army to march into their country, and to deftroy it with fire and fword. His or- ders were but ill executed, for his fon, Cara- calla, was at the head of the army, and his thoughts were entirely taken up with the hopes of his fathc:ir's dc^th, and with fchemes to fupplant his brother Geta. He fcarcely had en- tered the enemy's country, wjien news was * Caxzc'h'Sil, terrible e)e. Czrac-'hcalli, terrt'Ble look. Carac- ^hallamh, a fort of uf per garment. brought xu A DISSERTATION concerning the brought him that Severus was dead. A fudden peace is patched up with the Caledonians, and, as it appears from Dion Caffius, the country they had loft to Severus was reftored to them. The Caracul of Fingal is no other than Cara- calla, who, as the fon of Severus, the Emperor of Rome, whofe dominions were extended al- moft over the known world, was not without reafon called in the poems of Offian, the Son of the King of the World. The fpace of time be- tween 211, the year Severus died, and the be- ginning of the fourth century, is not fo great, but Offian the fon of Fingal, might have feen the Chriftians whom the perfecution under Dio- cleiian had driven beyond the pale of the Roman empire. OssiAN, in one of his many lamentations on the death of his beloved fon Ofcar, mentions among his great anions, a battle which he fought againft Caros, king of ihips, on the banks of the winding Carun*. It is more than proba- ble, that the Caros mentioned here, is the fame with the noted ufurper Caraufius, who affumed the purple in the year 287, and feizing on Bri- tain, defeated the emperor Maximian Herculius, in feveral naval engagements, which gives pro Car-avon, Winding river, priety Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, xiii priety to his being called in Oflian's poems, the King of Ships. The winding Carun is that fmall river retaining ftill the name of Carron, and runs in the neighbourhood of AgricoIa*s wall, which Carauiius repaired to obftru<5l the incur- iions of the Caledonians. Several other pafTages in the poems allude to the wars pf the Romans ; but the two juft mentioned clearly fix the epoch of Fingal to the third century ; and this account agrees exa(5lly with the Irifh hiftories, which place the death of Fingal, the fon of Comhal, in the year 283, and that of Ofcar and their own celebrated Cairbre, in the year 296. Some people may imagine, that the allufions to the Roman hiftory might have been induftri- oully inferted into the poems, to give them the appearance of antiquity. This fraud muft then have been committed at leaft three ages ago, as the palTages in which the allufions are made, are alluded to often in the compofitions of thofe times. Every one knows what a cloud of ignorance and barbarifm overfpread the north of Europe three hundred years ago. The minds of men, addided to fuperftition, contradcd a narrownefs that deftroyed genius, Accordingly we find the compofitions of thofe times trivial and puerile to the laft degree. But let it be allowed, that, 4 amidfl Hhr A DlSSERTATfON concerning the amldft ail the iiiltoA^ard circumftances of ^li^ igc, a genius might arife, it i^ not eafy -to 3^- torminie what cbulcl inBuce Hitti to giv6 the h'd- Hbnr of his compbfitions to an age fo rendotc. We find no fa6l that he has advanced, to favour any defigns which could be entertained by any man who lived in the fifteenth century. Bat iTiould we fuppofe a poet, through humour, of for reafons which cannot be feen at this diflance; of time, would afcribe his dwii compofitions to Offian, it is next to imp'ollible, that he could impofe upon his countrymen, w^hen all of thifiii were fo well acquainted with the traditlohi! poems of their anceflors. The llrongefl obje(flion to the authenticity 6i the poems now given to the public under thd name of Offian, is the improbability of their be- ing handed down by tradition t'nrough fo many centuries. Ages of barbarifm fome w-ill fay^ could not produce poems abounding with the difinterefled and generous fentiments fo confpi- cuous in the compofitions of Offian j and could thefe ages produce them, it is impoffible but they muft be loll, or altogether corrupted in a long fucceffion of barbarous generations. These obje6^1ons naturally fuggeft themfeives to men unacquainted with the ancient flate of the northern parts of Britain. The bards, who were Antiquity, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, xv were an inferior order of the Druids, did not ihare their bad fortune. They were fpared by the viftorious king, as it was through their means only he could hope for immortality to his fame. They attended him in the camp, and contributed to eftablilh his power by their fongs. His great anions were magnified, and the popu- , lace, who had ho ability to examine into his character narrowly, were dazzled with his fame in the rhimes of the bards. In the mean time, men alTumed fentiments that are rarely to be met with in an age of barbarifm. The bards who were originally the difciples of the Druids, had their minds opened, and their ideas enlarged, by being initiated in the learning of thsCt cele- brated order. They could form a perfedl hero in their own minds, and afcribe that character to their prince. The inferior chiefs made this ideal chara(5ter the model of their condut^, and by degrees brought their minds to that generous fpirit which breathes in all the poetry of the times. The prince, flattered by his bards, and rivalled by his own heroes, who imitated his character as defcribed in tlic eulogies of his poets, endeavoured to excel his people in merit, as he was above them in ftation. This emula- tion continuing, formed at laft the general cha- racter of the nation, happily compounded of 3 what xn A DISSERTATION concerning the what is noble in barbarity, and virtuous and ge- nerous in a polifhed people. When virtue in peace, and bravery in war, are the chara6leriftlcs of a nation, their a(5tions become interefting, and their fame worthy of immortality. A generous fpirit is warmed with noble adions, and becomes ambitious of perpe- tuating them. This is the true fource of that divine infpiration, to which the poets of all ages pretended. When they found their themes in- adequate to the warmth of their imaginations, they varniflied them over with fables, fupplied by their own fancy, or furnifhed by abfurd tra- ditions. Thefe fables, however ridiculous, had their abettors j pofterity either implicitly be- lieved them, or through a vanity natural to mankind, pretended that they did. They loved to place the founders of their families in the days of fable, when poetry, without the fear of con- tradiction, could give what characters fhepleafed of her heroes. It is to this vanity that we owe the prefervation of what remain of the works of OiTian. His poetical merit made his heroes fa- mous in a country where heroifm was much ef- teemed and admired. The pofterity of thefe heroes j or thofe who pretended to be defcended from them, heard with pleafure the eulogiums of their ancellors -, bards were employed to re- peat ANtlQUlTYjkc. of OSSlAN'st*OEMS. xvii peat the poems, and to retjord the conne<5lIon of their patrons with chiefs fo renowned. Every chief in procefs of time had a bard in his family, and the office became at laft hereditary. By the fiicceffion of thefe bards, the poems concerning the anceftors of the family were handed down from generation to generation ; they were re- peated to the whole clan on folemn occafions, and always alluded to in the new compofitions of the bards. This cuftom came down near to our own times ; and after the bards were difcon- tinued, a great number in a clan retained by memory, or committed to writing, their com- pofitions, and founded the antiquity of their families on the authority of their poems. The ufe of letter was not known in the north of Europe till long after the inftitution of the bards : the records of the families of their pa- trons, their own, and more ancient poems were handed down by tradition. Their poetical com- pofitions were admirably contrived for that pur- pofe. They were adapted to mufic; and the moft perfe(5l harmony was obferved. Each verfe was fo connected with thofe which preceded or followed it, that if one line had been remem- bered in a ftanza, it was almoft impoflible to forget the reft. The cadences followed in fo na- tural a gradation, and the words were fo adapted b to xviii A DISSERTATION concerning the to the common turn of the voice, after it is raifed to a certain key, that it was ahnoftim- poffible, from a fimilarity of found, to fubftitute one word for another. This excellence is pecu- liar to the Celtic tongue, and is perhaps to be met with in no other language. Nor doe^ this choice of words clog the fenfe or weaken the ex- preffion. The numerous 'fle(5lions of confonants, . and variation in declenlion, make the la.ngiiagc very copious. ' / 't The defcendants of the Celtae, who inhabited Britain and its illes, were not lingular in this method of preferving the moft precious monu- ments of their nation. The ancient laws of the Greeks were couched in verfe, and handed down by tradition. The Spartans, through a long habit, became fo fond of this cuftom, that they would never allow their laws to be committed to Writing. The anions of great men, and the culogiums of kings and heroes, were preferved in the fame manner. All the hillorical monuments of the old Germans were comprehended in. their ancient fongs * ; which were either hymns to their gods, or elegies in praife of their heroes, and were intended to perpetuate the great events in their nation which were carefully interwoven with * Tacitus de mor. Germ. . them ANtiQuiTY, &c. of OSSIAN'sPoE^s. xix them. This fpccies of compofition was not committed to writing, but delivered by oral; tradition *. The care they took to have the poems taught to their children, the uninter- ' rupted cuftom of repeating them upon certain occafions, and the happy meafure of the verfe, ferved to preferve them for a long time uncor- rupted. This oral chronicle of the Germans was not forgot in the eighth century, and it probably would have remained to this day, had not learning, which thinks every thing, that is not committed to writing, fabulous, been intro- duced. It was from poetical traditions that GarcillalTo compofed his account of the Yncas of Peru. The Peruvians had loft all other mo- numents of their hiftory, and it was from an- cient poems which his mother, a princefs of the blood of the Yncas, taught him in his youth, that he collected the materials of his hiftory. If other nations then, that had been often overun by enemies, and had fent abroad and received colonies, could, for many ages, preferve, by oral tradition, their laws and hiftories uncor- rupted, it is much more probable that the an- cient Scots, a people fo free of intermixture with foreigners, and fo ftrongly attached to the * j^l>l>i de la Bletme Remarque s fur la Germanie. h 2 memory XX A DISSERTATION concerning the memory of their anceftors, had the works of their bards handed down with great purity. It will feem flrange to fome, that poems ad- mired for many centuries in one part of this kingdom ihould be hitherto unknown in the other J and that the Britifh, who have carefully traced out the works of genius in other nations, Ihould fo long remain ftrangers to their own. This, in a great meafure, is to be imputed to thofe who underftood both languages and never attempted a tranflation. They, from being ac- quainted but with detached pieces, or from a modefty, which perhaps the prefent translator ought, in prudence, to have followed, de^aired of making the compofitions of their bards agree- able to an Englilh reader. The manner of thofe compofitions is fo different from other poems, and the ideas fo confined to the moft early fl:ate of fociety, that it was thought they had not enough of variety to pleafe a polifhed age. This was long the opinion of the tranflator of the following collection j and though he ad- mired the poems, in the original, very early, and gathered part of them from tradition for his own amufement, yet he never had the fmallefl: hopes of feeing them in an Englifh drefs. He was fenfible that the Itrength and manner of both languages were very different, and that it 5 was Antiquity,&c. of OSSIAN's Poems, xxi was next to impoffible to tranflate the Galic poetry into any thing of tolerable Englllh verfe j a profe tranflation he could never think of, as it muft neceflarily fall fhort of the majefty of au original. It is therefore highly probable, that the com- politions of Offian would have ftill remained in the obfcurity of a loft language, had not a gen- tleman, who has himfelf made a figure in the poetical world, infifted with the prefent editor for a literal profe tranflation of fome detached piece. He approved of the fpecimen, and, through him, copies came to the liands of fe- veral people of tafte in Scotland. Frequent tranfcription and the corrections of thofe, who thought they mended the poems by modernizing the ideas, corrupted them to fuch a degree, that the tranflator was mduced to hearken to the folicitations of a gentleman defervedly efteemed in Scotland, for his tafte and knowledge in polite literature, and pub- liftied the genuine copies under the title of JFragments of Ancient Poetry. The fragments, upon their firft appearance, were fo much ap- proved of, that feveral people of rank, as well as tafte, prevailed with the tranflator to make a journey to the Highlands and wcftern ifles, in order tg recover what remained of the works of "Ixii A DISSERTATION concerning the Oflian he fon of Fingal, the beft, as well as moft ancient of thofe who are celebrated in tradition for their poetical genius. A detail of this jour- ney would be both tedious and unentertaining ; let it fuffice therefore that, after a peregrination of fix months, the tranflator colleded from tra- dition, and fome manufcripts, all the poems ia the following colle(5Vion, and fome more ftill in his hands, though rendered lefs complete by the ravages of time, . The a6lion of the poem that fiands the iirft, was not the greateft or moft celebrated of the ex- ploits of Fingal. His wars were very numerous, and each of them afforded a theme which em- ployed the genius of his fon. But, excepting the prefent poem, thofe pieces are in a great meafure loft, and there only remain a few frag- ments of them in the hands of the tranflator. Tradition has ftill preferved, in many places, the ftory of thf^ poems, and many now living have heard them, in their youth, repeated, l THE.complete work, now printed, would, in ^ fhort time, have fhared the fate of the reft. The genius of the highlanders has fuffered a great change within thefe few years. The com- munication , with the reft of the ifland is open, and the introdu<5^ion of trade and manufactures lias deftroyed that leifure which was formerly dedicated AnTtQViTY, &c. of OSSIAN's Poems, xxlil fd^dicated to hearing and repeating the poems of ancienf limes. Many have now learned to leave .their mountains, and feek their fortunes in a iiTlilder .climate ; . and though a certain amor .'patiriaiX^z.y fometimes bring them back, they .have,- during their abfence, imbibed enough of foreign. manners to defpife the cuftoms of their anceftors. Bards have been long difufed, and the fpirit of genealogy has greatly fubfided. Men begin to be lefs devoted to their chiefs, and confanguinity is not fo much regarded. When property is eftablilhed, the human mind con- fines its views to the pleafure it procures.. It does not go back to antiquity, or look forward to fucceeding ages. The cares of life increafe, and the a6lions of other times no longer amufe. Hence it is, that the tafte for their ancient poetry is at a low ebb among the highlanders. Tliey have not, however, thrown off the good qualities of their anceftors. Hofpitality ftill fub- fifts, and an uncommon civility to ftrangers. Friendlhip is inviolable, and revenge lefs blindly followed than formerly. To fpeak of the poetical merit of the poems, would be an anticipation on the judgment of the public : And all that can be faid of the tranlla- tion, is, that it is literal, and that fimplicity is ftudied. The arrangement of the words in the original xxiv A DISSERTATION, &c. original is imitated, and the inverfions of the fiyle obferved.. As the tranilator claims no me- rit from his verfion, he hopes for the indulgence of the public where he fails. He wilhes that the imperfed femblance he draws, may not preju* dice the world againft an original, which con- tains what is beautiful in fimplicity, and grand in the fublimc. F I N G A L, CONTENTS. TT^INGAL, an Epic Poem. BOOK L "** Page BOOK II. 29 BOOK III. 49 BOOK IV, 69 BOOKV. 89 BOOK VI. 107 COMALA : a Dramatic Poem 125 The WAR of CAROS : a Poem 1 36 The WAR of INIS-THONA : a Poem 148 The BATTLE of LOR A : a Poem 158 CONLATH and CUTHON A ; a Poem 1 7 > CARTHON: a Poem 79 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN : a Poem 20? D ARTHULA ; a Poem 2 1 S T^MORA : an Epic Poem 241 CAR- CONTENTS. CARRIC-THURA: a Poem Page 269 The SONGS of SELMA 291 CALTHON and COLMAL : a Poem 304 LATHMON : a Poem 316 OITHONA : a Poem 334 CROMA : a Poem 344 BERRATJHON : a Poem 356 171 *;:.-c/ Q-i t i N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. In SIX BOOKS. B ARGUMENT to Book I. Cuchullin, (general of the Irijh tribes^ in the minority of Cormac^ king of Ireland) fitting alone beneath a tree, at the gate of Tura, a caftle of Ulfier, (the other chiefs having gone on a hunting 'party te Cromla^ a neighbouring hill) is informed of the landing of Swaran, king of Lochlin, by Moran, the fon of Fithil, one of his fcouts. He convenes the chiefs', a council is held, and difputes run high about giving battle to the enemy, Connal, the petty king ofTogorma, and an intimate friend ofCuchullin, was for retreating till Fingal, king of thofe Cale- t donians who inhabited the north-wefi coafi of Scot" land, whofe aid had been previoujly foUicited, fhould arrive-, but Calmar, the fon of Mat ha, lord of Lara, a country in Connaught, was for engaging the enemy immediately. Cuchullin, of himfelf willing to fight, went into the opinion ofCalmar. Marching towards the enemy, he miffed three of his bravejl heroes, Fer^ gus, Ducbomar, and Caithbat. Fergus arriving, tells Cuchullin of the death of the two other chiefs ; which introduces the affecting epifode of Morna, the daughter of Cormac 'The army of Cuchullin is de- f cried at a diflance by Swaran, who fent the fon of Arno to obferve the motions of the enemy, while he himfelf ranged his forces in order of battle. " 'the fon of Arno returning to Svjaran, defer ibes to him Cuchullin^ s chariot, and the terrible appearance of that hero. The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the victory undecided. Cuchullin, accord- ing to the hofpitaUty of the times, fends to Swaran a formal invitation to a feaft, by his bard Carril, the fon ofKinfena. Swaran refufes to come. Carril relates to Cuchullin the fiory of Grudar and Braf- folis. A party, by Connars advice, is fent to ob- ferve the enemy \ which clofes the aSiion of the firfi day. t 3 ] F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. In SIX BOOKS. BOOK I. CUCHULLIN* fatbyTura's wall; by the tree of the ruftling leaf. His fpear leaned againft the nioffy rock. His Ihield lay * Cuchullin, or rather Cuth-Ullin, the 'voice of Ullin, a po- etical name given the fon of Semo by the bards, from his com- manding the forces of the Province of Ulfter againft the Fer- bolg or Belgs, who were in poflefllon of Connaught. Cu- chullin when very young married Bragela the daughter of Sor- glan, and pafling over into Ireland, lived for fome time with Connal, grandfon by a daughter to Congal the petty king of Ulfter. His wifdom and valour in a fliort time gained him fuch Reputation, that in the minority of Cormac the fupreme king of Ireland, he was chofen guardian to the young king, and folc manager of the war againft Swaran king of Lochlin. After a feries of great adtions he was killed in battle fomewhere in Con- naught, in the twenty-feventh year of his age. He was fo re- markable for his ftrength, that to defcribe a ftrong man it has pafled into a proverb, *' He has the ftrength of Cuchullin." They fliew the remains of his palace at Dunfcaich in the Ifle of kyc ; and a ftone to which he bound his dog Luath, goes iUll \>y his name. B by 4 F I N G A L, Book I. by him on the grafs. As he thought of mighty Carbar t"? a- hero whom he flew in war ; the fcout of the ocean came, Moran :J the fon of Fithil. Rise, faid the youth, CuchuUin, rife; I fee the fhips of Swaran. CuchuUin, many are the foe : many the heroes of the dark-rolling fea. MoRAN ! replied the blue-eyed chief, thou ever trembleft, fon of Fithil : Thy fears have much increafed the foe. Perhaps it is the king II of the lonely hills coming to aid me on green Ullin's plains. f Cairbar or Cairbre fignifies a flrong man. We may conclude from CuchuUin's applying fo early for fo- reign aid, that the Irifti were not then fo numerous as they have fmce been ; which is a great prefumption againft the high anti- quities of that people. We have the teftimony of Tacitus that one legion only was thought fufficient, in the time of Agricola, to reduce the whole ifland under the Roman yoke ; which would not probably have been the cafe had the ifland been inhabited for any number of centuries before. J Moran fignifies many j and Fithil, or rather Fili, a infe- rior hard. II Fingal the fon of Comhal, and Morna the daughter of Thaddu. His grandfather was Trathal, and great grandfather Trenmor, both of whom are often mentioned in the poem. Trenmor, according to tradition, had two fons ; Trathal, who fucceeded him in the Kingdom of Morven, and Conar, called by the bards Conar the great y who was elefted king of all Ireland, and was the anceftor of that Cormac who fat on the Irifh throne when the invafion of Swaran happened. It may not be impro- per, here to obfetve, that the accent ought always to be placed n the laft fyllable of Fingal. J I sA\r Book I. An EPIC POEM. ^ I SAW their chief, fays Moran, tall as a rock of ice. His fpear is like that blafted fir. His fhield like the rifing moon. He fat on a rock on the fhore : his dark hoft rolled, like clouds, around him. Many, chief of men! 1 faid, many are our hands of war. Well art thou named, the Mighty Man, but many mighty men are feen from Tura's windy walls. He anfwered, like a wave on a rock, who in this land appears like me ? Heroes ftand not in my prefence : they fall to earth beneath my hand. None can meet Swaran in the fight but Fingal, king of ftormy hills. Once we wreftled on the heath of Malmor *, and our heels overturned the wood. Rocks fell from their place; and rivulets, changing their courfe, filed murmur- ing from our ftrife. Three days we renewed our flrife, and heroes flood at a diftance and trembled. On the fourth, Fingal fays, that the king of the ocean fell ; but Swaran fays, he flood. Let dark Cuchullin yield to him that is ftrong as the ftorms of Malmor. No : replied the blue-eyed chief, I will never yield to man. Dark Cuchullin will be great or dead. Go, Fithil's fon, and take my fpear : t Meal-mor a great h'llL B 3 flrikc , F I N G A L, Book I. ftrike the founding Ihield of Cabalt ||. It hangs at Tura's ruftling gate ; the found of peace 15 not its voice. My heroes fhall hear on the hill. He went and ftruck the bofly Ihield. The hills and their rocks replied. The found fpread along the wood : deer ftart by the lake of roes. Curach * leapt from the founding rock ; and Connal of the bloody fpear. Crugal's "f breaft of fnow beats high. The fon of Favi leaves the dark-brown hind. It is the fhield of war, faid Ronnar, the fpear of Cuchullin, faid Lu- gar. Son of the fea, put on thy arms ! Cal- mar lift thy founding fteel ! Puno ! horrid hero, rife : Cairbar from thy red tree of Cromla. Bend thy white knee, O Eth ; and defcend from the ftreams of Lena. Ca-olt ftretch thy white fide as thou moveft along the whiftling heath of Mora : thy fide that is white as the foam of the troubled fea, when the dark winds pour it on the murmuring rocks of Cuthon i. jl Cabait, or rather Cathbait, grandfather to the hero, was {& remarkable for his valour, that his fhield was made ufe of to alarm his pofterity to the battles of the family. We find Fingal making the fame ufe of his own ftiield in the 4th book, A horn was the moil common inftrument to call the army together before the invention of bagpipes. Cu-raoch fignifies the m dnefi of battle. J- Cruth-geal 'fair-complexioned. X Cu-thn the mournful found of nvaves. Now Book I, A^f E P I C P O E M. f Now I behold the chiefs in the pride of their former deeds ; their fouls are kindled at the battles of old, and the anions of other times. Their eyes are like flames of fire, and roll in iearch of the foes of the land. Their mighty hands are on their fwords j and lightning pours from their fides of fteel. They came like ftreams from the mountains ; each ruflied roar- ing from his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle in the armour of their fathers. Gloomy and dark their heroes followed, like the gathering of the rainy clouds behind the red meteors of heaven. The founds of cralh- ing arms afcend. The grey dogs howl between. Unequally burfts the fong of battle ; and rock- ing Cromla * echoes round. On Lena's dufky heath they flood, like miftf that fhades the hills of autumn : when broken and dark it fettles high, and lifts its head to heaven. Crom-leach fignified a place of worfliip among the Druids. It is here the proper name of a hill on the coaft of Ullin or Ulfler. ATp>aj. HOM. II. 5. V. 52Z. So vhen th' embattled clouds in dark array, Along the flcies their gloomy lines difplay ; The low-hung vapours motionlefs and ftill Reft on the fummits of the Ihaded hill. Port. B 4 Hail^ t 'F I n Q A L, Book L Hail, faid Cuchullin, fons of the Jnarrow vales, hail ye hunters of the deer. Another fport is drawing near : it \s like the dark roll- ing of that wave on the coaft. Shall we fight, ye fons of war ! or yield green Innisfail i to Loch- lin ? -O Connal || fpeak, thou firft of men I thou breaker of the fhields ! thou haft oftea fought with Lochlin ; wilt thou lift thy father's Ipear ? Cuchullin ! calm the chief replied, the fpear of Connal is keen. It delights to Ihine in battle, and to mix with the blood of thoufands. But tho* my hand is bent on war, my heart is for the peace of Erin *. Behold, thou firft in Cormac's war, the fable fleet of Swaran. His mafts are as numerous on our coaft as reeds in X Ireland fo called from a colony that fettled there called Fa- lans. Innis-fail, i. e. the ifland o^ the Fa-il or Falans. II Connal, the friend of Cuchullin, was the fon of Cathbait prince of Tongorma or the ijland of blue nxjd'ves, probably one of the Hebrides. His mother was Fioncoma the daughter of Congal. He had a fon by Foba of Conachar-nefTar, who was afterwards king of Lllfler. For his fervices in the war againft Swarao he had lands conferred on him, which, from his name, were called Tir-chonnuil or Tir-connel, ;. e. the land of Connal. * Erin, a name of Ireland ; from ear or iar Weft, and in an ifland. This name was not always confined to Ireland, for there is thehigheft probability that the leme ofihe ancients was Britain to the North of the Forth. For feme is faid to be to the North f Britain, which could not be meant of Ireland. Strabo, I. 2. & 4. Casaub. 1, I. ^' '^- i' the Book I. An E P I C P O E M. ^ the lake of Lego. His fhlps are like forefls cloathed with mif|, when the trees yield by turns to the fqually wind. Many are his chiefs in battle. Connal is for peace. Fingal would ihun his arm the firft of mortal men : Fingal that fcatters the mighty, as ftormy winds the heath ; when the ftreams roar thro' echoing Cona ; aild night fettles with all her clouds Oil the hill. Fly, thou chief of peace, faid Calmar-f* the fon of Matha ; fly, Connal, to thy filent hills, where the fpear of battle never fhone ; purfue the dark-brown deer of Cromla : and flop with thine arrows the bounding roes of Lena. But, blue-eyed fon of Semo, CuchuUin, ruler of the war, fcatter thou the fons of Loch- lin X, and roar thro' the ranks of their pride. Let no vefTel of the kingdom of Snow bound on the dark-rolling waves of Inis-tore ||. O ye dark winds of Erin rife ! roar ye whirlwinds' of the heath ! Aniidft the tempeft let me die, torn in a cloud by angry ghofts of men ; amidft the tempeft let Calmar die, if ever chace was fport to him fo much as the battle of Ihields. f- Calm-er, aJJrcng man. X The Galic name of Scandinavia in general ; in a more con- fined fenfe that of the peninfula of Jutland. I! Innis-tore, the ifland of nvha'es, the ancient name of the Orkney iilands. Calmar! to ' F I N G A L, Book I. Calmar! flow replied the chief, I never fled, O Matha's fon. I was fwift witli my friends in battle, but fniall is the fame of Con- nal. The battle was wpn in my prefence, and the valiant overcame. But, fon of Semo, hear my voice, regard the ancient throne of Cormac. Give wealth and half the land for peace, till Fingal come with battle. Or, if war be thy choice, I lift the fword and fpear. My joy fliall be in, the midft of thoufands, and my foul brighten in the gloom of the fight. To me, Cuchullin replies, pleafant is the noife of arms : pleafant as the thunder of hea- ven before the fhower of Spring. But gather all the Ihining tribes that I may view the fons of war. Let them move along the heath, bright as the fun-fhine before a florm ; when the weft wind colle6^s the clouds, and the oaks of Mor- ven echo along the fhore. But where are my friends in battle? The companions of my arm in danger ? Where art thou, white-bofom'd Cathbat ? Where is that cloud in war, Duchomar * ? and haft thou left me, O Fergus-'f' ! in the day of the ftorm ? Fergus, firft in our joy at the feaft ! fon of Dubhchomar, a Hack nvell-Jkaped man. f Fear-guth, the man of the iiord \ or a commander of an army. RoiTa ! 3ooK I. An E P I C P O E M. 1 1 Rofla ! arm of death! comeft thou like a roc:^ from Malmor ? Like a hart from the ecchoing hills ? Hail thou fon of RofTa ! what fhades the foul of war ? Four ftones ||, replied the chief, rife on the gratve of Cathbat. ^Thefe hands have laid in earth Duchomar, that cloud in war. Cathbat, thou fon of Torman, thou wert a fun-beam on the hilL And thou, O valiant Duchomar, like the mill of marlhy Lano; when it fails over the plains of autumn and brings death to the people. Morna, thou faireft of maids ! calm is thy lleep in the cave of the rock. Thou haft fallen in darknefs like a ftar, that fhoots athwart the defart, when the traveller is alone, and mourns the tranfient beam. Say, faid Semo's blue-eyed fon, fay how fell the chiefs of Erin ? Fell they by the fons of X Be thou like a roe or young hart on the mountains of Bether. Solomon's Song. II This palTage alludes to the manner of burial among the an- cient Scots. They opened a grave fix or eight feet deep : the bottom was lined with fine clay ; and on this they laid the body of the deceafed, and, if a warrior, his fword, and the heads of twelve arrows by his fide. Above they laid another ftratum of clay, in which they placed the horn of a deer, the fymbol of hunting. The whole was covered with a fine mold, and four ftones placed on end to mark the extent of the grave. Thefe are the four ftones alluded to here. Lochlin, n ^ I N G A L, BooKt Lochlin, ftriving in the battle of heroes? Or what confines the chiefs of Cromla to the dark and narrow hoiife * ? Cathbat, replied -the hero, fell by the fword of Duchomar at the oak of the noify fireams. Duchomar came to Tura's cave, and fpoke to the lovely Morna. Morn A "f*, faireft among women, lovely daughter of Cormac-cairbar. Why in the circle of ftones ; in the cave of the rock alone ? The fiream murmurs hoarfely. The old tree's groan is in the wind. The lake is troubled before thee, and dark are the clouds of the fky. But thou art like fnow on the heath j and thy hair like the mift of Cromla j v/hen it curls on the rocks, and Ihines to the beam of the weft. Thy breafts are like two fmooth recks feen from Branno of the ftreams. Thy arms like two white pillars in the halls of the mighty Fin gal. - From whence, the white-armed maid re- plied, from whence, Duchomar themoft gloomy of men ? Dark are thy brows and terrible. P ed are thy rolling eyes. Does Swaran appear on the fea ? What of the foe, Duchomar ? From the hill I return, O Morna, from the hill of the dark-brown hinds. Three have I * The grave. The houfe appointed for all living. Joe. f Muirne or Morna, a nvoman beloved by lalL flain Book I. An EPIC POEM. 13 ilaln with my bended yew. Three with my long bounding dogs of the chace. Lovely daughter of Cormac, I love thee as my foul, 1 have flain one ftately deer for thee. High was his branchy head ; and fleet his feet of wind. DucHOMAR ! calm the maid replied, I love thee not, thou gloomy man. Hard is thy heart of rock, and dark thy terrible brow. But Cathbat, thou fon of Torman *, thou art the love of Morna. Thou art like a fun-beam on the hill in the day of the gloomy ftorm. Saw- ieft thou the fon of Torman, lovely on the hill of his hinds ? Here the daughter of Cormac waits the coming of Cathbat. And long Ihall Morna wait, Duchomar faid, his blood is on my fword. Long fhall Morna wait for him. He fell at Bran no's ftream. High on Cromla I will raife his tomb, daughter of Cormac-cairbar ; but fix thy love on Ducho- mar, his arm is ftrong as a ftorm. And is the fon of Torman fallen? faid the maid of the tearful eye. Is he fallen on his ecchoing heath ; the youth with the breaft of fnow ? he that was firft in the chace of the hill ; the foe of the ftrangers of the ocean. Du- * Torman, fbuvder. This is the true origin of the Jupiter Taramis of the ancients. chomar 14 F I N G A L, Book!. chomar thou art dark f indeed, and cruel is thy arm to Morna. But give me that fword, my foe ; I love the blood of Caithbat. He gave the fword to her tears; but Ihc pierced his manly breaft. He fell, like the bank of a mountain-ftream 5 ftretched out his arm and faid ; Daughter of Cormac-cairbar, thou haft llain Duchomar. The fword is cold in my breaft : Morna, I feel it cold. Give me to Moina * the maid ; Duchomar was the dream of her night. She will raife my tomb ; and the hunter Ihall fee it and praife me. But draw ths fword from my breaft; Morna, the fteel is cold. She came, in all her tears, flie came, and drew it from his breaft. He pierced her white lide with fteel ; and fpread her fair locks on the ground. Her burfting blood founds from her iide I and her white arm is ftained with red. Rolling in death flie lay, and Tura's cave an- fwered to her groans. Peace, faid Cuchullin, to the fouls of the heroes ; their deeds were great in danger. Let them ride around f me on clouds ; and Ibew t She alludes to his name ii>e dark max^ * Moina, foft in temper and per/on. f- It was the opinion then, as indeed it is to this day, of fbme of the highlanders, that the fouls of the deceafed hovered round their living friends ; and fometimes appeared to them when thpy W^re about to enter on any great undertaking. I their Book I. An E P I C P O E M. ^^ their features of war : that my foul may be ftrong in danger ; my arm like the thunder of heaven. But be thou on a moon-beam, O Morna, near the window of my reft; when my thoughts are of peace i and the din of arms is over. Gather the ftrength of the tribes, and move to the wars of Erin. Attend the car of my battles ; rejoice in the noife of my courfe. Place three fpears by my fide ; fol- low the bounding of my fteeds ; that my foul may be ftrong in my friends, when the battle darkens round the beams of my fteel. As rulhes a ftream * of foam from the dark: Ihady fteep of Cromla ; when the thunder is rolling above, and dark-brown night on half the hill. So fierce, fo vaft, fo terrible rulhed on the fons of Erin. The chief like a whxilc E? fjuffyxlKnav av^ot,y and wide poured the blood of the valiant. Hoft againft hoft, with (hadowy fquadrons drew. The founding darts in iron tcmpefts flew ; With ftreaming blood the flipp'ry fields arc dy*d. And flaugbter'd heroes Avell the dreadful tide. PoP>^ ) Statius has very happily imitated Homer. Jam clyptu^ clypeis, unbone re^ellitur umho, E'fi mnax infes, pede pes, i5* cufplde cu/pisy (fff. Arms on armour crafhing, bray'd Horrible difcord, and the madding wheels Of brazea chariots rag'd, &c. Milton. C 2 Mourn. lo FIN G A L, BookIJ' Mourn, ye fons of fong, the death of the noble Sithallin *. Let the fighs of Fiona rife on the dark heaths of her lovely Ardan. They fell, like two hinds of the defart, by the Jiands of the mighty Swaran i when, in the midft of thoufands he roared j like the fhrill fpirit of a ftorm, that fits dim, on the clouds of Gormal, and enjoys the death of the mariner. . Nor flept thy hand by thy fide, chief of the ifle of mift "f many were the deaths of thine arm, CuchulUn, thou fon of Semo. Hisfword was like the beam of heaven when it pierces the fons of the vale ; when the people are blafted and fall, and all the hills arc burning around. Dufronnal 4^ fnorted over the bodies of he- foes ; and Sifadda |j bathed his hoof in blood* The battle lay behind them as groves overturned on the defart of Cromla ; when the blaft has palled the heath laden with the fpirits of night. Sithallin fignifics a hanJJemt man ; Fion^ a fair maid -^ iind Ardan, pride. f The Ifle of Sky ; not improperly called the ijk ofm'ft^ as its high hills, which catch the clouds from the weftern ocean, occafion almoft continual rains. \ One of CuchuUin's horfes. Dubhftron-ghcal. I Sith-fadda, i.e. aUnifltidt. ' Weep Book I. An E P I C P O E M. 2^ Weep on the rocks of roaring winds, O maid of Iniftore *, bend thy fair head over the waves, thou fairer than the fplrit of the hills ; when it moves in a fun-beam at noon o^er the filcnce of Morven. He is fallen I thy youth is low ; pale beneath the fword of Cuchullin. No moie iTiall valour raife the youth to match the blood of kings. Trcnar, lovety Trenar died, thou maid of Iniftore. His gray dogs are howling at home, and fee his palling ghoft. His bow is in the hall unftrung. No found is in the heath of his hinds. As roll a thoufand waves to the rocks, fo Swaran's hoft came on ; as meets a rock a thou- fand waves, fo Innis-fail met Swaran. Death raifes all his voices around, and mixes with the found of fhields. Each hero is a pillar of darknefs, and the fword a beam of fire in his hand. The field echoes from wing to wing, as The maid of Inifiore was tlie daughter of Gorlo Icing of Inillore or Orkney iflands. Trenar was brother to the king of Inifcon, fuppofed to be one of the iflnnds of Shetland. The Orkneys and Shetland were at that timp fuhjed to the king of Lochlin, We find that the dogs of 7 renar are fenfible at home of the death of iheir mailer, the very iullani he is killed. It was the opinion of the times that the fouls of heroes weUt immediately after death to the hills of their country, and the fcenes they frequented the moft happy time of their life. It was thought too that dogs and horfes faw the ghofts of the deceafed. C 3 a hun- zi t I N G 'A L, Book I. a hundred hammers that :rife by turns on the yed'fon of the furnace. Who are thefe on Lena's heath that are fo gloomy and dark ? Who are thefe like two clouds *, and their fwords like lightning above tkcm ? The little hills arc troubled around, and the rocks tremble with all their mofs. Who is it but Ocean's fon and the car-borne chief of Erin? Many are the anxious eyes of their friends, as they fee them dim on the heath. Now night conceals the chiefs in her clouds, and ends the terrible fight. It was on Cromla's fhaggy fide that Dorglas placed the deer f ; the early fortune of the chace, before the heroes left the hill. A hundred youths colle6t the heath j ten heroi C4 maini 24 F I N G A L, Book I. main j till morn, with the young beams of my caft, lliall light me to the death of CuchuUin. Plea fan t to my ear is Lochlin's wind. It rulhes over my feas. It fpeaks aloft in all my llirowds, and brings my green forefts to my mind j the green forefts of Gormal that often echoed to my winds, when my fpear was red in the chacc of the boar. Let dark Cuchullin yield to me the ancient throne of Cormac, or Erin's tor- rents Ihall lliew from their hills the red foam of the blood of his pride. Sad is the found of Swaran's voice, faid Car^ ril of other times ; Sad to himfelf alone, faid the blue-eyed fon of Semo. But, Carril, raife thy voice on high, and tell the deeds of other times. Send thou the night away in fong; and give the joy of grief. For many heroes and maids of love have moved on Jnnis-fail. And lovely are the fongs of woe that are heard on Albion's rocks ; when the noife of the chace is over, and the ftreams of Cona anfwcr to the voice of Offian *. Offian the Ton of Fin;jal and author of the poem. One cannot but admire the addrefs of ihe poet in putting his own prai/e fo naturally into the mouth of Cuchullin. The Cona here mentioned i perhaps that fmall river th^t run-' through Glenco it Argylefhire. One of the hills which environ thai romantic V ley is ilill called Scorna-fena, or the hijl of i Irgal's people. In Book I. An E P I C P O E M. 25 In other days *, Carril replirs, came the fons of Ocean to Erin. A thoufand veflels bounded over the waves to UlUn's lovely plains. The fons of Innis-fail arofe to meet the race of dark- brown fhields. Cairbar, firft of men, was there, and Grudar, ftately youth. Long had they ftrove for the fpotted bull, that lowed on Gol- bun's f echoing heath. Each claimed him as his own i and death was often at the point of their fteel. Side by fide the heroes fought, and the ftran- gers of Ocean fled. Whofe name was fairer on the hill than the name of Cairbar and Grudar 1 But ah ! why ever lowed the bull on Gol- bun's echoing heath ? They faw him leaping like the fnow. The wrath of the chiefs re- turned. On Lubar's if grafly banks they fougiit, and Grudar like a fu^-beam, fell. Fierce Cairbar came to the vale of the echoing Tura, where This epilbde is introduced with propriety. Calmar and ( onnal, two of the Irifh heroes, had dilputed warmly before the battle about engaging the enemy. Carril endeavours to re- concile them with the ftory of Caii bar and Grudar ; who, tho* enemies before, fought Jt died in the third booic. f Golb-bhean, as well as Cromleach, fignifies a crooked bill. It is here the name of a mountain in the county of Sligo. X Lubar- a river in UUler. Labhar^ loud, noify. BrafTolis, i6 F I N G A L, BooKfi BrafToHs*, faireft of his fillers, all alone, raifed the fong of grief. She fang of the a(5lions of Grudar, the youth of her fecret foul. ^She mourned him in the field of blood ; but ftill fhe hoped for his return. Her white bofom is feen from her robe, as the moon from the clouds of night. Her voice was fofter than the harp to raife the fong of grief. Her foul was fixed on Grudar $ the fecret look of her eye was his. When ihalt thou come in thine arms, thou mighty in the war ? Take, Braflblis, Cairbar came and faid, take, Braflblis, this fhield of blood. Fix it on high within my hall, the armour of my foe. Her foft heart beat againft her fide. Diftra6led, pale, fhe flew. She found her youth in all his blood ; fhe died on Cromla's heath. Here refts their dull, CuchuUin; and thcfe two lonely yews, fprung from their tombs, with to meet on high. Fair was BraflTolis on the plain, and Grudar on the hill. The bard lliall prefervc their names, and repeat them to future times. Pleasant is thy voice, O Carril, faid the~ blue-eyed chief of Erin ; and lovely are the words of other times. They are like the calm Braffolis fignlfies a 'woman i^iib a ivbitt brefji. , , ^, ., ihower Book I. Ai? E P I C P O E M. 27 fhower * of fpring, when, the fun looks on the field, and the light cloud flies over the hills. O ftrike the harp in , praife of my love, the- lonely fun-beam of DunfcRich. Strike the harp in the praife of Bragela f , of her that I left in the lile of Mift, the fpoufc of Semo's fon. Doft thou raife thy fair face from the rock to find the fails of Cuchullin? I'he fea is roll- ing far dif^ant, and its white foam -Jhall deceive thee for my fails. Retire, for it is night, my love, and the dark winds figh in thy hair. Re- tife to tlie halls of my fcafts, and think oF the times that are pafl : for I w ill not return till the florm of war is ccafed. O Connal, fpeak of wars and arms, and fend her from my mind, for lovely with her raven-hair is the white-bo - fomed daughter of Sorglan. * Homer compares foft piercing words to the fall of fnow. But when he fpeaks, what elocution flows! Like the fofc fleeces of defcending fnows. Pope. t Brageia was the daughter of Sorglan, and the wife of Cuchullin Cuchullin, upon the death of Artlio, fupreme king of Ireland, pafTed over into Ireland, probably by Fingal's order, to take upon him the adminiftration of affairs in that kingdom during the minority of Coimac ihc Ion of Artho. He left his wife Brageia in Dunfcaich, the feat of the family, in ihe ifle of Sky, where the remains of his palace is ftill fliewn; and a llone, to which he bound his dcg Lualh, gees Aiil by his name. CoNNAL, 28 F I N G A L. Book I. CoNNAL, flow to fpeak, replied, Guard againft the race of Ocean. Send thy troop of night abroad, and watch the ftrength of Swa- ran. Cuchullin ! I am for peace till the race of the defart come 5 till Fingal come, the firft of men, and beam, like the fun, on our fields. The hero f^ruck the fhield of his alarms the warriors of the night moved on. The refl lay in the heath of the deer, and flept amidft the duiky wind. The ghofts * of the lately dead were near, and fwam on gloomy clouds. And far diflant, in the dark filence of Lena, the feeble voices of death were heard. It was long the opinion of the ancient Scots, that a ghoft was heard ftirieking near the place where a death was to happen foon after. The accounts given, to this day, among the vul- gar, of this extraordinary matter, are very poetical. The ghoft comes mounted on a meteor, and furrounds twice or thrice the place deftined for the perfon to die; and then goes along the road through which the funeral is to pafs, fhrieking at intervals ; t laft, the meteor and ghoft difappear above the burial place. FINGAL, F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. BOOK H. ARGUMENT to Book II. 'The ghq/l of Crugal, one of the Irijh heroes who was killed in battle, appearing to Connal, fore^ tels the defeat of Ciichullin in the next battle ; and earnejily advifes him to make peace with ' Sivaran. Connal communicates the "oifion-, but GuchuUin is injlexible-^from a principle of honour; ^oift would "not be the'^^fft to fu^fkr pea&e-, and /ti refolved to -contiiiue the war. Morniiig comes j Swaran prcpof^s cjijhonojirqble terms to Cuchullin, which are rejc^ed. The battle begins, a?id is ohfiinately fought for fome time, until, upon the jUgkt ofOrumflf th^ivhole 'hs/h acmygave way. CuchuUin and Connal cover their retreat : Carril leads them to a neighbouring hill, whither they are foon follo'-jojed by^CiiUihullinJiimfelf, who de- fries the fleet of Fingal making towards the coaji ; but, iiight coming on, he lojl fight of it again. CuchuUin, dejeSled after his defeat, at- tributes his ill fuccefs to the death of Ferda his friend, whom he had killed fome time before. Carril, to fhew that ill fuccefs did not always at- tend thofe zvho innocently killed their friends, in- troduces the epifode of ~ Comal and Gahina. n [ 3 ] I ;JN G A E, -^A^'- ANCIENT -^^'"'^ E. P al-C P O E M.- .;_ .:.!.j: u:'j I3> ^ ;v;^!j-i' J- i^o^iu lift ^ In SIX B O K S. 1 ii^^ ^H -i BOOK II. 't /^ONN AL * lay by the found of the moun- ^^ tain ftream, beneath the aged tree. A ftone, with its mofs, fupported his head. Shrill thro' * The fcene of Connal's repofe is familiar to thofe who have been in the Highlands of Scotland. The poet removes him to a jdiftance from the army, to add more horror to the defcription of Crugal's ghoft by the loneh'nefs of the place. It perhaps will not be difagreeabic to the reader, to fee how two other ancient poets handled a fimilar fubjeft. TLarr ecvru ftiytQcj Ti xai ouasra koct tlxvTct- Kut (pom, Sec. ^ HoM. II. 23. When lo ! the ftiade, before his clofing eyes. Of fad Patroclus rofe or feem'd to rife, In the fame robe he living wore, he came In ftature, voice, and pleafing look the fame. The form familiar hover'd o'er his head. And fleeps Achilles thus ? the phantom faid. PoPi. Infomnis ecce ante oculos ma^jiijpmus HeSlor Vifui addejfe mihi, largofque effundere fletus ^ Raptatui higiSf ut quondam^ aterque cruento Puhne ftrque ftdii trajdlmhra tumtntcs. 32 F I N G A L, Book IT. tliro' the heath of Lena, he heard the voice of night. At diftance from the heroes he lay, for the fon of the fword feared no foe. My hero faw in his reft a dark- red ftream of iire coming down from the hilL Crugal iat upon the beam, a chief that lately fell. He fell by the hand of Swaran, driving in the battle of heroes. His face is like the beam of the fetting moon i his robes are of the clouds ff the hill : his eyes are like two decaying flames. Dark is the wound of his breaft. Crugal, faid the mighty Connal, fon of Dedgal famed on the hill of deer. Why fo pale and fad, thou breaker of the Ihields ? Set mihi ^uahs erat ! quantum mutatus ah ilU HeSore, qui redit exu-viis indutus AchtUiy Vtl Danauin Pkrygios jaculatus puppibus ignes\ Squaltntem barbam fif concrelOi,fa>tguine crines VulAtra^ue ilia gerem qua circum plurima muras AtUtp'it patrios. Mn. lib. 2. When Heftor's ghoft before my Aght appears : A bloody (hroud he feem'd, and bath'd in tears. Such as he was, when, by Pelides flain, ' 1 heflalian courfers drag'd him o'er the plain. Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thruft Through the bcr'd holes, his body black with duft. Unlike that Heflor, who return'd from toils Of war triumphant, in Mzchn fpoils: Or him, who made the fainting Greeks retire. And launched againft their navy Phrygis*; fire. His hair and beard flood ftiffen'd with his gore ; And all the wounds he for his country bore. Drydem, Thou BookIL An epic POEM. 33 Thou haft never been pale for fear. What difturbs the fon of the hill ? Dim, and in tears, he ftood and ftretched his pale hand over the hero. Faintly he raifed his feeble voice, like the gale of the reedy Lego. X My ghoft, O Connal, is on my native hills ; but my corfe is on the fands of Ullin. Thou fhalt never talk with Crugal, or find his lone fteps in the heath. I am light as the blaft of Cromla, and I move like the fhadow of mift. Connal^ fon of Colgar *, I fee the dark cloud of death : it hovers over the plains of Lena. The fons of green Erin Ihall fall. Remove from the field of gliofts. Like the darkened moon 't' he retired, in the midft of the whittling blaft. Stay, faid the mighty Connal, ftay my dark-red friend. Lay by that beam of heaven, fon of the windy Cromla. What cave of the hill is thy lonely houfc ? What green-headed Connal the fon of Caithbat, the friend of Cuchullin, is fometimes, as here, called the foa of Colgar; from one of that name who was the founder of h s family. fi%:To riT^iyvTcx, HOM. II. 23. V. ICO. Like a thin finokc he fees the fpirit fly. And hears a feeble, lamentable cry. Fopb. D hill 34 F I N G A L, ^ook XI. hill is the place of thy reft ? Shall we not hear thee in the ftorm ? In the noife of the moun- tain-ftream ? When the feeble fons of the wind come forth, and ride on the blaft of the defart. The foft-voiced Connal rofe in the midft of his founding arms. He ftruck. his Ihield above Cuchullin. The {on of battle waked. Why, faid the ruler of the car, comes Con- nal through the night ? My fpcar might turn againft the found ; and Cuchullin mourn the death of his friend. Speak, Connal, fon of Colgar, fpcak, thy counfel is like the fon of heaven. Son of Semo, replied the chief, the ghoft of Crugal came from the cave of his hill. The ftars dim-twinkled through his form -, and his voice was like the found of a diftant ftream. He is a meflcnger of death. He fpeaks of the dark and narrow houfe. Sue for peace, O chief of Dunfcaich ; or fly over the heath of Lena. He fpoke to Connal, replied the hero, though flars dim-twinkled through his form. Son of Colgar, it was the wind that murmured in the caves of Lena. Or if it was the form * of Crugal, * The poet teaches us the opinions that prevailed In his time concerning the ftate of feparate fouls. From Connal's expreffion ' That Book If. An E P I C P O E M. g^ Crugal, why didft thou not force him to my fight. Haft thou enquired where is his cave ? The houfe of the fon of the wind ? My fword might find that voice, and force his knowledge from. him. And fmall is his knowledge, Con- nal, for he was here to-day. He could not have gone beyond our hills, and who could tell him there of our death ? Ghosts "fly on clouds and ride on winds, faid Connal's voice of wifdom. They reft to- gether in their caves, and talk of mortal men. Then let them talk of mortal men ; of every iBan but Erin's chief. Let me be forgot in their cave ; for I will not fly from Swaran. If I muft fall, my tomb lliall rife amidft the fame of future times. The hunter iliall Ihed a tear on my ftone ; and forrow dwell round the high- bofomed Bragela. I fear not death, but I fear to fly, for Fingal faw me often victorious. Thou dim phantom of the hill, Ihew thyfelf to me ! Come on thy beam of heaven, and fhew me my death in thine hand ; yet will 1 not fly, thou feeble fon of the wind. Go, fon of Col- gar, ftrike the ftiicld of Caithbat, it hangs be- ' That the ftars dim-twinkled through the form of Crugal,'* and CiKhulIIn's reply, we may gather that they both thought the foul was material ; fomething like the tl^uT^* of the ancient Greeks. P 2 twcen 36 F I N G A L, Book 11. tween the fpears. Let my heroes rife to the found in the midft of the battles of Erin. Though Fingal delays his coming with the racp of the ftormy hills j we Ihall fight, O Colgar's fon, and die in the battle of heroes. The found fpreads widej the heroes rife, like the breaking of a blue-rolling wave. They flood on the heath, like oaks with all their branches round them * ; when' they eccho to the ftream of frofl, and their withered leaves ruftle to the wind. High Cromla's head of clouds is gray ; the morning trembles on the half-enlightened ocean. The blue, gray mift fvvims flowly by, and hides the fons of Innis-fall. Risz ye, faid the king of the dark-brown ihields, ye that came from Lochlin's waves. The fons of Erin have fled from our arms purfue them over the plains of Lena. And, Moria, go to Cormac's hall and bid them yield to Swaran ; before the people Ihall fall into the tomb J and the hills of UUin be filcnt. They rofe like a flock of fea-fowl when the waves expel them from the fliore. Their found . * As wiien heaven's fire Hath Tcath'd the forell oaks, or inountain pines With fmgcd tops, their frately <;rovvth tho' bare Stand on tije blalied heath. Milxok. 4 was Book II. An EPIC POEM. 37 was like a thoufand ftreams that meet in Cona*s vale, when after a ftormy night, they turn their dark eddies beneath the pale light of the morn- ing. As the dark fhades of autumn fly over the hills of grafs ; fo gloomy, dark, fucceflive came the chiefs of Lochlin's echoing woods. Tall as the Jftag of Morven moved on the king of groves. His Ihining fhield is on his fide like a flame on the heath at night, when the world is filent and dark, and the traveller fees fome ghoft fporting in the beam. A BLAST from the troubled ocean removed the fettled niift. The fons of Innis-fail appear like a ridge of rocks on the fhore. Go, Moria, go, faid Lochlin's king, and offer peace to thefc. Offer the terms we give to kings when nations bow before us. When the valiant arc dead in war, and the virgins weep- ing on the field. Great Morla came, the {on of Swart, and ftately f^rodc the king of Ihields. He fpokc to Erin's blue-eyed fon, among the IcfTer heroes. Take Swaran's peace, the warrior fpokc, the peace he gives to kings, when the nations bow before him. Leave Ullin's lovely plains to us> and give thy fpoufe and day- Thy fpoufc high-bofom'd heaving fair. Thy dog that D 3 over- ^g . F I N G A L, Book II. overtakes the wind. Give thefe to prove the weaknefs of thine arm, and live beneath our power. Tell Swaran, tell that heart of pride, that CuchuUin never yields. -. 1 give him the dark- blue rolling of ocean, or I give his people graves in Erin ! Never Ihall a ftranger have the lovely fun-beam of Dunfcaich ; nor ever deer fly on Lochlin's hills before the nimble-footed Luath. Vain ruler of the car, faid Morla, wilt thou fight, the king ; that king whofe Ihips of many groyes could carry off thine Ifle ? So little is thy green-hilled Ullin to the king of flormy waves. In words I yield to many, Morla ; but this fword fhall yield to none. Erin fhall own the fway of Cormac, while Connal and CuchuUin live. O Connal, firl^ of mighty men, thou hafl heard the words of Morla j lliall thy thoughts then be of peace, thou breaker of the fhields ? Spirit of fallen Crugal ! why didfl thou threaten us with death ? The narrow houfe fhall receive me in the midfl of the light of renown.- Exalt, ye fons of Innis-fail, exalt the fpcar and bend the bowj rulli on the foe in darknefs, as the fpirits of ftormy nights. Then BbdK IK An E P I C POEM. 39 ^HEN difmal, roaring, fierce, and deep the gloom of battle rolled along ; as mift * that is poured on the valley, when ftorms invade the filent fun-fhine of heaven. The chief moves before in arms, like an angry ghoft before a cloud i when meteors inclofe him with fire j and the dark winds are in his hand. Carril, far on the heath, bids the horn of battle found. He raifes the voice of the fong, and pours his foul into the minds of heroes. Where, faid the mouth of the fong, where is the fallen Crugal ? He lies forgot on earth, and the hall of ibells -f* is filent. -Sad is the fpoufe of Crugal, for Ihe is a firanger J in the hall of her forrow. But who is fhc, that, like a fun-beam, flies before the ranks of the foe ? It is Degrena ||, lovely fair, the fpoufe of fallen Crugal. Her hair is on the wind behind. Her As evening mift Ris'n from a river o'er the marifh glides And gathers ground faft at the lab'rera heel Homeward returning Milton. f The ancient Scots, as well as theprefenthtghlanders, drunk in fhells ; hence it is that we fo often meet, in the old poetry, with the chief ofjhellst and the halls efjhells. X Crugal had married Degrena but a little time before the battle, confequently (he may with propriety be called a ftranger in the hall of her forrow. 1| Dco-ghrcna fignifies z/un beam, D 4 eye 40 F I N G A L, Book II. eye is red j her voice is fhrill. Green, empty- is thy.Crugal now, his form is in the cave of the hill. He comes to the ear of reft, and raifes his feeble voice j like the humming of the moun- tain-bee, or colleded flies of evening. But Degrena falls like a cloud of the morn ; the fword of Lochlin is in her fide. Cairbar, ihe is fallen, the rifing, thought of thy youth. She is fallen, O Cairbar, the thought of thy youth- ful hours. Fierce Cairbar heard the mournful found, and ruihed on like ocean's whale; he faw the death of his daughter ; and roared in the midft of thoufands *. His fpear met a fon of L>och- lin, and battle fpread from wing to wing. As a hundred wir^ds in Lochlin's groves, as fire in the firs of a hundred hills ; fo loud, fo ruinous and vaft the ranks of men are hewn down. ' CuchuUin cut off heroes like thiflles, and Swa- ran wafted Erin. Curach fell by his hand, and Cairbar of the bofty fhield. Morglan lies in lafting reft j and Ca-olt quivers as lie dies. His white breaft is ftained with his blood ; and his yellow hair ftretched in the duft of his native land. He often had fpread the feaft where he fell J and often raifed the voice of the harp : * Medii/^ue in tnillihus ardft* ViRC when Book II. An E P I C P O E M. 41. when his dogs leapt around for joy ; and the youths of the chace prepared the bow. Still Swaran advanced, as a ftream that burfts from the defart. The little hills are rolled in its courfe j and the rocks half- funk by its fide. But Cuchuilln flood before him like a hill *, that catches the clouds of heaven.- The winds contend on its head of pines ; and the Kail rattles on its rocks. But, firm in its Hrength, it ftands and fhades the filent vale of Cona. So Cuchullin Ihaded the. fons of Erin, and ftood in the midft of thoufands. Blood rifes like the fount of. a rock, from panting heroes arpund him. But Erin falls on either wing like ^ fnow in the day of the fun. - * Virgil and Milton have made ufe of a comparifon fimilar to this ; I fhall lay both before the reader, and let him judge for himfelf which of thefe two great poets havebeft fucceedcd. ^antus 4^hoSf aut quantuj Eryx, aut ip/e corv/cist Cum fremit ilicibus, quantui gaudetque ni'vali Vertice fe at to liens pater Appeninus ad auras. Like Eryx or like Athos great he fhews Or father Appcnine when white with fnowsj His head divine obfcure in clouds he hides, And (hakes the founding foreft on his fides. DRyDEW, On th' other fide Satan alarm'd, Colledlirg all his might, dilated ftopd Like Teneriff or Alias unremov'd : His ftaturc reach'd the flty. MitTON. O SON? 44^ t f N G A L, Book II? O 's^'!ts 6f Irtsi-M, faid' Grumal, Lochliii' conquers on the fidd* Why ftrivc Vie as reedS' againft the Wind ? Fly ta tfee- hill of dafk- browh hinds. He fled like- the ftag of Morveh;^ arid hts fpear is a trembling beam of light be- ' hind- him. Few fled- with Grumal, the chief of^ thf Kttfe~foul : they fell in the battle of heroc^^' on Lena's echoing heath. High on his car, of many gems, the chief- of Eriii flood ; he flew a mighty fon cf- Loch-'" lin, and fpoke, in hafte, to CornaL O Coii-*^ i^I, iirft of liiortal men, thou haft taught this arrn of death ^ Though Erin's fons have fledi"^ fli'air we not fight the foe? G Carrilj fon of ^ oth^r times, carry my living friends to that bulhy hill. Here, Connal, let us ftand like rocks, and fave our flying friends. ' Connal mounts the car of light. They firetch their fliields like the darkened moon, the daughter of the flarry fkies, when fhe moves, a dun circle, through heaven. SIthfadda pant- ed up the hill, and Dufronnel haughty fleed. Like waves behind a whale behind them rulhed the foe. Now on the rifing fide of Cromla flood Erin's few fad fons ; like a grove through which the flame had rulhed hurried on by the winds of the flormy night. Cuchullin flood befide an oak. Book II. An EPIC POEM. 41- oak. He rolled his red eye in lilence, alid heard the wind in his bufhy hair ; when the fcout of ocean came, Moran the fon of Fithil. T he fhips, he cried, the Ihips of the lonely^ ifle ! There Fingal comes, the firft of men, the breaker of the Ihields. The waves foam before his black prows. His mafts with flils are like groves in clouds. Blow, faid Cuchullin, all ye winds thatrufh over my ille of lovely mift. Come to the death of thoufands, O chief of the hills of hinds. Thy fails, my friend, are to me like the clouds of the morning; and thy ihips like the light of lieaven; and thou thyfelf like a pillar of fire that giveth light in the night. O Connal, firft of men, how pleafant are our friends ! But the night is gathering around ; where now are the fhips. of Fingal ? Here let us pafs the hours of darknefs, and wifh for the moon of heaven. The winds came down on the woods. The torrents rufhed from the rocks. Rain gathered round the head of Cromla. And the red ftars trembled between the flying clouds. Sad, by the fide of a fiream whofe found was echoed by a tree, fad by the fide of a fiream the chief of Erin fat. Connal fon of Colgar was there, and Carril of other times. Unhappy 44 F I N G A' L, Book II. Unhappy is the hand of Cuchullin, faid the fon of Semo, unhappy is the hand of Cuchullin lince he flew his friend. ^Ferda, thou fon of Damman, I loved thee as myfelf. How, Cuchullin, fon of Semo, fell the breaker of the Ihields ? Well I remember, faid Connal, the noble fon of Damman. Tall and fair he was like the rain-bow of the hill. -Ferda from Albion came, the chief of a hundred hills. In Muri's * hall he learned the fword, and won the friendfhip of Cuchullin. We moved to the chace together j and one was our bed in the heath. Deugala was the fpoufe of Cairbar, chief of the plains of Ullin. She was covered with the- light of beauty, but her heart was the houfe of pride. She loved that fun -beam of youth, the- noble fon of Damman. Cairbar, faid the white- armed woman, give me half of the herd. No more I will remain in your halls. Divide the herd, dark Cairbar. Miiri, fay the Irilh bards, was an academy in Ulfter for teaching the qfe of arms. The fignification of the word is a clufter of people ; which renders the opinion probable. Cuchullin is faid to have been the firft who introduced into Ireland com- plete armour of fteel. He is famous, among the Senachies, for teaching horfemanlhip to the Irifh, and for being the firft who tifed a chariot in that kingdom ; which laft circumftance was she occafion of Offian's being fo circumftantial in his defciiption of Cuchullin's car, in the iirll book. Let Book II. An E P I C P O E M: 4^ . Let Cuchullin, faid Calrbar, divide my herd on the hill. His breaft is the feat of juflice. Depart, thou light of beauty. 1 went and divided the herd. One fnow-white bull re- mained. I gave that bull to Cairbar. The wrath of Deugala rofe. Son of Damman, begun the fair, Cuchullin pains my foul. I muft hear of his death, or Lubar's ftrcam fhall roll over me. My pale ghoft Ihall wander near thee, and mourn the wound of my pride. Pour out the blood of Cuchullin or pierce this heaving breaft. Deugala, faid the fair-haired youth, how fliall I flay the fon of Semo ? He is the friend of my fecret thoughts, and fhall I lift the fword ? She wept three days before him, on the fourth he confcnted to fight. I WILL fight my friend, Deugala ! but may I fall by his fword. Could I wander on the hill and behold the grave of Cuchullin ? We fought on the hills of Murl. Our fwords avoid a wound. I'hcy llirlc on the helmets of fteclj and found on the llippery ihiclds. Deugala was near with a fmilc, and faid to the fon of Damman, thine arm is feeble, tliou fon-beam of yquth. Thy, years are not ftrong for llcel. Yield to the fon of Scmo. lie is like the rock of Mal- mor. TH 46 F I N G A L, Book It The tear is in the eye of youth. He faulter^ ing faid to me, Cuchullin, raife . thy bofly fhleld. Defend thee from the hand of thy friend. My foul is laden with grief: for I muft flay the chief of men. I SIGHED as the wind in the chink of a rock. I lifted high the edge of my fteel. The fun- beam of the battle fell ; the firft of Cuchullin's friends. Unhappy is the hand of Cuchullin fince the hero fell. Mournful is thy tale, fon of the car, faid Carril of other times. It fends my foul back to the ages of old, and to the days of other years. Often have I heard of Comal who flew the friend he loved j yet vidory attended his fteel 3 and the battle was confumed in his prefence. Comal was a fon of Albion ; the chief of an hundred hills. His deer drunk of a thoufand ftreams. A thoufand rocks replied to the voice of his dogs. His face was the mildnefs of youth. His hand the death of heroes. One was his love, and fiir was flie ! the daughter of mighty Con- loch. She appeared like a fun-beam among women. And hei* hair was like the wing of the raven. Her dogs were taught to the chace. Her bow-ftring founded on the winds of the foreft. Pier foul was fixed or^ Comal, Often met Book II. An EPIC POEM. ^ jiaet their eyes of bve. Their courfe in the ichace was one, and hapj)y were their words in fecret. But Gormal loved the maid, tlie dark chief of the gloomy Ardven. He watched her lone fteps in the heath ; the foe of unhappy Comal. One day, tired of the chace, when the mill had concealed their friends, Comal and the daughter of Conloch met in the, cave of Ronan *- It was the wonted haunt of Comal. Its fides were hung with his arms. A hundred ihields of thongs were there; a hundred helms of founding fleel. Rest here, he faid, my love Galvina ; thou light of the cave of Ronan. A deer appears on Mora's brow. I go ; but 1 will foon return. I fear, ihe fald, dark Grumal my foe; he haunts tlic cave of Ronan. I will reft among the arms ; but foon return, my love. * The unfortunate death of this Ronan is the fubjefl of the ninth fragment of ancient poetry publifticd lad year ; it is not the work of OfHan, though it is writ in his manner, and bears the genuine marks of antiquity. The concife expreiHons of Oflian are imitated, but the thoughts are too jejane and confined to be the produftion of that poet. Many poems go under his name that have been evidently compofed fince his time ; they are very numerous in Ireland, and fome have come to the uanfla- tor's hands. They are trivial and dull to the laft degree ; fwell- ing into ridiculous bomball, or (inking into the iowell kind of profaic ftylc. 3" K 48 F I N G A L, Book U. He went to the deer of Mora. The daughter of Conloch would try his love. She cloathed her white (ides with his armour, and ilrode from the cave of Ronan. He thought it was his foe. His heart beat high. His colour changed, and darknefs dimmed his eyes. He drew the bow. The arrow flew. Galvina fell in blood. He run with wildnefs in his fteps and called the daughter of Conloch. No anfwer in the lonely rock. Where art thou, O my love ! He faw, at length, her heaving heart beating around the feathered dart. O Conloch's daughter, is it thou ? He funk upon her breaft. The hunters found the haplefs pair ; he after- wards walked the hill. But many and filent were his fteps round the dark dwelling of his love. The fleet of the ocean came. He fought ; the ftrangers fled. He fearchcd for his death over the field. But who could kill the mighty Co- mal ! He threw away his dark-brown fliield. An arrow found his manly breaft. He fleeps with his loved Galvina at the noife of the found- ing furge. Their green tombs are feen by the mariner, when he bounds on the waves of the north. F I N G A L, F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. BOOK III. E ARGUMENT to Book llL CuchuIIiny pleafedwith the Jlory of Carril, tnfijlswith that hard for more of his fongs. He relates the ac- tions of Fin^al in Lochlin, and death of Agandecca the beautiful fifler of Swaran. He had fear ce fi- nifhed when Calmar the fen of Mat ha ^ who had advifed the firfi battle^ came wounded from the fields and told them of Swaran* s defign to furprife the remains of the Irijh army. He himfelf propofes to withjland Jingly the whole force of the enemy ^ in a narrow pafsy till the Irijh fhould make good thdr retreat. Cnchullin, touched with the gallant pro- pofal of Calmar^ refohes to accompany him, and or- ders Carril to carry off the few that remained of the JriJJj, Morning comes ^ Calmar dies of his wounds \ and, the fhips of the Caledonians appearing, Swaran gives over the purfuit of the Irijh, and returns to cppofe Fingal*s lafiding. Cuchullin afhamed, after his defeat, to appear before Fingal, retires to the cave of^ura. Fingal engages the enemy, puts them to flight ; hut the coming on of night makes the vie-* tory not decifive. The king, who had obferved the gallant behaviour of his grandfon Ofcar, gives him advices concerning his conduct in peace and war. He recommends to him to place the example of his fathers . befcre his eyes, as the beji model for his conduct ', which introduces the epifode concerning Fainafollis, the daughter of the king ofCraca, whom Fingal had taken under his prote^iion, in his youth. Fillan and Ofcar are difpatched to ohferve the motions of the eneihy by night -, Gaul the fon of Morni defires the command of the army, in the next battle -, which Fingal prornifes to give him . Some general reflexions of the poet clofe the third day. t 5 ] F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM/ In SIX BOOKS. BOOK III*. PLEASANT are the words of the fong, faid Cuchullln, and lovely are the tales of other times. They are like the calm dew of the mornipg on the hill of roes, when the fun is faint on its fide, and the lake is fettled and blue in the vale. O Carril, raife again thy voice, and let me hear the fong of Tura : which was fung in my halls of joy, when Fingal king of fhields was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers. The fecond night, fince the opening of the poem, conti- nues ; and Cuchullin, Connal, and Carril ftijl fit in the place dcfcribed in the preceding book. The ftory of Agandecca is in* troduced here with propriety, as great ufe is made of it in th* courfe of the poem, and as it, in fome meafure, brings about the cataftrophe. 2 Fingal ! 52 F I N O A L, BookIIL FiNGAL ! thou man of battle, faid Carril, early were thy deeds in arms. Lochlin was con- fumed in thy wrath, when thy youth flrove with the beauty of maids. They fmiled at the fair- blooming face of the hero ; but death was in his hands. He was ftrong as the waters of Lora. His followers were like the roar of a thoufand ilreams. They took the king of Lochlin in bat- tle, but reftored him to his fhips. His big heart fwelled with pride ; and the death of the youth was dark in his foul. For none ever, but Fingal, overcame theflrength of the mighty Starno *. He fat in the halls of his ihells in Lochlin's woody land. He called the grey-haired Snivan, that often fung round the circle f* of Loda : when the ftone of power heard his cry, and the battle turned in the field of the valiant. Go ; gray-haired Snivan, Starno faid, to Ardven's fca-furrounded rocks. Tell to Fingal king of the defart ; he that is the faireft among his thoufands, tell him I give him my daughter, tlie lovelieft maid that ever heaved a breaft of Stamo was the father of Swaran as well as Agandecca. His fierce and cruel charaftcr is well marked in other poems con- ' cerning the times. ; t This pafTage moft certainly alludes to the religion of Loch- lin, and the Jione of poiver here mentioned is the image of one of the deities of Scandanavia. 4 fnow. BookIIL Ai^ epic poem. 53 fnow. Her arms are white as the foam of my waves. Her foul is generous and mild. , Let him come with his braveft heroes to the daugh- ter of the fecret hall. Snivan came to Albion's windy hills : and fair-haired Fingal went. His kindled foul flew, before him as he bounded on the waves of the north. Welcome, faid the dark-brown Starno, wel- come, king of rocky JMorven ; and ye his he- roes of might J fons of the lonely ille I Three days within my halls Ihall ye feaft ; and three days purfue my boars, that your fame may reach the maid that dwells in the fecret hall. The king of fnow * defigned their death, and gave the feaft of fhells. Fingal, who doubted the foe, kept on his arms of fteel. The fons of death were afraid, and fled from the eyes of the hero. The voice of fprightly mirth arofe. The trembling harps of joy are ftrung. Bards fing the battle of heroes ; or the heaving breaft of love. UUin, Fingal's bard, was there ; the fweet voice of the hill of Cona. He praifed the daughter of fnow; and Morvcn's "f high-de- * Starno is here poetically cnlled the king of fnow, from the great quantities of fnow that fall in his dominions, f All the North-weft coall of Scotland probably went of old under the name of Morven, which fignifies a ridge of very hig" hills. E 3 fr ended ^4 F I N G A L, Book III, fcended chief.-' ^The daughter of fpow over- heard, and left the hall of her fecret ligh. She came in all her beauty, like the mopn from the cloud of the eaft. LoveUnefs was around her as light. Her fteps were like the muiic of fongs, She faw the youth and loved him. He was the Holen figh of her foul. Her blue eye roiled on him in fecret : and Ihe blell the chief of Mor- ven. The third day, with all its beams, flione bright on the wood of boars. Forth moved the dark-browed Starno ; and Fingal, king of ihields. Half the day they fpent in the chacej, and the fpear of FingaJ was red in the blopd of Cormal *. It was then the daughter of Starno, with blue eyes rolling in tears, came with her voice qf love and fpoke to the king of Morven. Fingal, high-defcended chief, truft not Starno's heart of pride. Within that wood he has placed his chiefs j beware of the wood of death. But, remember, fo^ of the hill, remem- ber Agandecca ; fave me from the wrath of my father, king of the windy Morven ! Gormal is the name of a hill in Lochlin, in the neighbour- hood of Starno's palace. Th Book in. An EPIC POEM. 55 The youth, with unconcern, went on ; his heroes by his fide. The fons of death fell by his hand j and Gormal echoed around. Before the halls of Starno the fons of the chace convened. The king's dark brows were like clouds. His eyes like meteors of night. Bring hither, he cries, Agandecca to her lovely king of Morven. His hand is ftained with the blood of my people ; and her words ha,ve not been in vain. She came with the red eye of tears* She came with her loofe raven locks. Her white breaft heaved with fighs, like tlie foam of the ftreamy Lubar. Starno pierced her fide with fteel. She fell like a wreath of fnow that Aides from the rocks of Ronan j when the woods are ftill, and the echo deepens in the vale. Then Fingal eyed his valiant chiefs, his va- liant chiefs took arms. The gloom of the battle roared, and Lochlin fled or died. Pale, in his bounding fhip he clofed the maid of the raven hair. Her tomb afcends on Ardven, and the fea roars round the dark dwelling of Agandecca, Blessed be her foul, faid CuchuUin, and bleflied be the mouth of the fong. Strong was the youth of Fingal, and ftrong is his arm of age. Lochlin fhall fall again before the king of echoing Morven. Shew thy face from a E 4 ^loud, 5^ F I N G A L, BooKlir; cloud, O moon J light his white fails on the wave of the night. And if any ftrong fpirit''^ of heaven fits on that low-hung cloud ; turn his dark iTiips from the ?:ock, thou rider of the ftorm ! > Such were the words of GuchuUin at the found of the mountain-ftream, when Calmar af- cended the hill, the wounded fon of Matha. From the field he came in his blood. He leaned on his bending fpear. Feeble is the arm of bat- tle ! but flrong the foul of the hero ! Welcome ! O fon of Matha, faid Gonnal, welcome art thou to thy friends ! Why burfls that broken figh from the breaft of him that ne- ver feared before ? And never, Gonnal, will he fear, chief of the pointed fteel. My foul brightens in danger, and exults in the noife of battle. I am of the race of Reel j my fathers never feared. GoR M A R was the firft of my race. He fported through the fiorms of the waves. His black fkiff bounded on ocean, and travelled on the wings of f This is the only paflage in the poeni that has the appearance qF religion. But CuchuUin's apoftrophe to this fpirit is accom- panied with a doubt ; fo that it is not eafy to determine whether the hero meant a fuperior being, or the ghofts of deceafed war- riors, who wpre fuppofed in thofe times to rule the ftorm s, and to tranfport themfelves in a gufl of wind from one country to another. the Book III. An E P I C P O E M. '^7 the blaft. A fpirit once embroiled the night. Seas fwell and rocks refound. Winds drive along the clouds. The lightning flies on wings of fire. He feared and came to land: thea blufhed that he feared at all. He rulhed again among the waves to find the fon of the wind.. Three youths guide the bounding bark ; he iftood with the fword unfheathed. When the low-hung vapour pafled, he took it by the curl- ing head, and fearched its dark womb with his fteel. The fon of the wind forfook the air; The moon and ftars returned. Such was the boldnefs of my race ; and Cal- mar is like his fathers. Danger flies from the uplifted fword. They beft fucceed who dare. But now, ye fons of green -vallyed Erin, re- tire from Lena's bloody heath. ColIe(5l the fad remnant of our friends, and join the fword of Fingal. I heard the found of Lochlin's advan- cing arms j but Galmar will remain and fight. My voice Ihall be fuch, my friends, as if thou- lands were behind me. But, fon of Semo, re- member me. Remember Calmar's lifelefs corfc. After Fingal has wafted the field, place me by fonje ftone of remembrance, that future times may hear my fame ; and the mother * of Cal- mar rejoice over the ftone of my renown. * Alcletha, her lamentation over her fon is introduceJ in the fccm concerning the death of Cuchuliin, printed in this collc(5tion. No: 5^ F I N G A L, BooKllU No : ion of Matha, faid CuchulUn, I will never leave thee. My joy is in the unequal field : my foul increafes in danger. Connal, and Carril of other times, carry off the fad fons of Erin j and when the battle is over, fearch for our pale corfes in this narrow way. For near this oak we fhall ftand in the ftream of the battle of thoufands. O Fithil's fon, with feet of wind, fly over the heath of Lena. Tell to Fingal that Erin is inthralled, and bid the king of Morven haften, O let him come like the fun in a florm, when he Ihines on the hills of grafs. Morning is gray on Cromla ; the fons of the fea afcend. Calmar Hood forth to meet them in the pride of his kindling foul. But pale was the face of the warrior ; he leaned on his father's fpear. That fpear which he brought from Lara's hall, when the foul of his mother was fad. But flowly now the hero falls like ^ tree on the plains of Cona. Dark CuchuUii^ ^ands alone like a rc>ck * in a fandy vale. The HXiCaTo?, fi-iyaXfJi '^fo^1? a^o? l.'^i); eaaa, &C. HoM. II. i5 So fome tall rocko'erhangs the hoary main. By wjnds aiTail'd, by billows beat in vain, Unmov'd it hears, above, the tempefts blow, And ffes the watry mountains break below. Pope. Book III. An E P I C P O E M. $9 fea comes with its waves, and roars on its har- dened fides. Its head is covered with foam, and the hills are echoing around. Now from the gray mift of the ocean, the white-failed Ihips of Fingal appear. High is the grove of their mafls as they nod, by turns, on the rolling wave, SwARAN faw them from the hill, and re- turned from the fons of Erin. As ebbs tlie re- founding fea through the hundred ifles of Inis- tore ; fo loud, fo vaft, fo immenfe returned the fons of Lochlin againft the king of the defert hill. But bending, weeping, fad, and flow, and dragging his long fpear behind, CuchuUin funk in Cromla's wood, and mourned his fallen friends. He feared the face of Fingal, who was wont to greet him from the fields of renown. How many lie there of my heroes ! the chiefs pf Innis-fail ! they tliat were chearful in the hall when the found of the iTiells arofc. No piore fhall I find their fieps in the heath, or hear their voice in the chace of the hinds. Pale, filent, low on bloody beds are they who wci^ my friends ! O fpirits of the lately-dead, meet puchulUn on his heath. Copverfe with him on the wind, when the ruftling tree of Tura's cave rcfounds. There, far remote, I fhall lie un- Js.nown. No bard fhall hear of me. No gray ^oi^e 6o F I N G A L, Book III. ftone Ihall rife to my renown. Mourn me with the dead, O Bragela ! departed is my fame. 'Such were the words of Cuchullin when he funk in the woods of Cromla. FiNGAL, tall in his fhip, ftretched his bright lance before him. Terrible was the gleam of the fteel : it was like the green meteor of death, fetting in the heath of Malmor, when the tra- veller is alone, and the broad moon is darkened in heaven. The battle is over, faid the king, and I be* hold the blood of my friends. Sad is the heath of I^ena -, and mournful the oaks of Cromla :. the hunters have fallen there in their ftrength y and the fon of Semo is no more. Ryno and Fillan, my fons, found the horn of Fingal's war. Afcend that hill on the Ihore, and call the children of the foe. Call them from the grave of Lamdarg, the chief of other times. - Be your voice like that of your father, when he enters the battles of his ftrength. I wait for the dark mighty man ; I wait on Lena's fhorc for Swaran. And let him come with all his race ; for ftrong in battle are the friends of the dead. Fair Ryno flew like lightning ; dark Fillan as the fhade of autumn. On Lena's heath their voice is heard ; the fons of ocean heard the horn of Fingal's war. As the roaring eddy of ocean BaoKlII. An EPIC POEM. 6r ocean returning from the kingdom of fnows ; fo ftrong, fo dark, fo fudden came down the fons of Lochlin. The king in their front appears in the difmal pride 6f his arms. Wrath burns in his dark-brown face : and his eyes roll in the fire of his valour. Fi NG A L beheld the fon of Starno ; and he remembered Agandecca. For Swaran with the tears of youth had mourned his white-bo- fomed lifter. He fent Ullin of the fongs to bid him to the feaft of fhells. For pleafant on Fin- gal's foul returned the remembrance of the firft of his loves. Ullin came with aged fteps, and fpoke to Starno's fon. O thou that dwelleft afar, fur- rounded, like a rock, with thy waves, come to the feaft of the king, and pafs the day in reft. To-morrow let us fight, O Swaran, and break the echoing ftiields. To-DAY, fald Starno's wrathful fon, we break the echoing ftiields : to-morrow my feaft will be fpread ; and Fingal lie on earth. And to-morrow let his feaft be fpread, fiiid Fingal with a fmile; for to-day, O my fons, we ihall break the echoing ftiields. Oflian, ftand thou near my arm. Gaul, lift thy terrible fword. Fergus, bend -thy crooked yew. Throw, FUlan, thy lance through heaven. Lift your ihiclds 62 F I N G A L, ^ookIIT. fhields like the darkened moon. Be your fpears the meteors of death. Follow me in the path f my fame j and equal my deeds in battle. As a hundred winds on Alorven ; as the ft reams of a hundred hills; as clouds fly fuccef- five over heaven ; or, as the dark ocean affaults the fhore of the defer t : fo roaring, fo vaft, fo terrible the armies mixed on Lena's echoing heath. ^The groan of the people fpread over the hills; it was like the thunder of night, when the cloud burfts on Cona; and a thoufand gholls Ihriek at once on the hollow wind. FiNGAL rufhed on in his ftrength, terrible as the fpirit of Trenmor ; when, in a whirlwind, he comes to Morven to fee the children of his pride. The oaks refound on their hills, and the rocks fall down before him. Bloody was the hand of my father when he whirled the lightning of his fword. He remembers the battles of hi? youth, and the field is wafted in his courfe. Ryno went on like a pillar of fire. Dark is the brow of Gaul. Fergus rullied forward with feet of wind ; and Fillan like the mift of the hill. Myfelf*, like a rock, came down, I Here the poet celebrates his own actions, but he does it in fuch a manner that we are not difpleaff^d. The mention of the great adions of his youth immediattrly fuggefts to him the help- leis fituation of his age. We do not defpile him for felfilh praifc, but feel his misfortunes. exulted Book III. An EPIC POEM. 63 exulted in the ftrength of the king. Many were the deaths of my armj and difmal was the gleam of my fword. My locks were not then fo gray ; nor trembled my hands of age. My eyes were not clofcd in darknefs j nor failed my feet in the race. Who can relate the deaths of the people; or the deeds of mighty heroes; whenFingal, burning in his wrath, confumed the fons of Lochlin ? Groans fwelled on groans from hill to hill, till night had covered all. Pale, ftaring like a herd of deer, the fons of Lochlin convene on Lena. We fat and heard the fprlghtly harp at Lubar's gentle ftream. Fingal himfelf was next to the foe ; and liftened to the tales of bards. His godlike race were in the fong, the chiefs of other times. Attentive, leaning on his ihield, the king of Morven fat. The wind whittled through his aged locks, and his thoughts are of the days of other years. Near him on his bend- ing fpear, my young, my lovely Ofcar flood. He admired the king of Morven : and his ac- tions were fwelling in his foul. Son of my fon, begun the king, O Ofcar, pride of youth, I faw the fliining of thy fword and gloried in my race. Purfue the glory of our fathers, and be what they have been ; when Trenmor lived, tlie firft of men, and Trathal thq 64 F 1 U G A U iSooKlli. the father of heroes. They fought the battle in their youth, and are the fong of bards. ' Ofcar ! bend the ftrong in arms : but fpafc the feeble hand. Be thou a ftream of many tides againft the foes of thy people ; but like the gale that moves the grafs to thofe who aik thine aid. So Trenmor lived ; fuch Trathal was j and fuch has Fingal been. My arm was the fupport of the injured ; and the weak refted be- hind the lightning of my fteel. Oscar ! I was young like thee, when loveljr Fainafollis came : that fun-beam ! that mild iight of love ! the daughter of Craca's * king I 1 then returned from Cona's heath, and few were in my. train. A white-failed boat ap- peared far oif J we faw it like a mift that rode on ocean's blaft. It foon approached ; we faw the fair. Her white breaft heaved with fighs. The wind was in her loofe dark hair ; her rofy cheek had tears. Daughter of beauty, calm I faid, what figh is in that breaft ? Can I, young as I am, defend thee, daughter of the fea ? My fword is not unmatched in war, but dauntlefs is my heart. * What the Craca here mentioned was, is not, at this diftance of time, eafy to determine. The moft probable opinion is, that it was one of the Shetland ifles. There is a ftory concerning a daughter of the king of Craca in the fixth book. To SooK in. An EPIC POEM. 6^ To thee I fly, with fighs fhc replied, O chief', of mighty men! To thee 1 fly, chief of fheHs, fupporter of the feeble hand! The king of Craca's echoing tfle Owned nie the fun -beam of his race. And often did the hills of Cromala reply to the fighs of love for the unhappy Fai- nafollls. Sora's chief beheld me fair ; and loved the daughter of Craca. His fword is like a beam of light upon the warrior's fide. But dark is his brow ; and tempefts are in his foul. I Ibun him on the rolling fea ; but Sora's chief pur* fues. Rest tliou, I faid, behind my fhicld ; reft in peace, thou beam of light ! The gloomy chief of Sora will fly,' if Fingal's arm is like his foul. In feme lone cave I might conceal thee, daugh- ter of the fca ! But Fingal never flics ; for where the danger threatens, 1 rejoice in tlic florm of fpcars. 1 faw the tears upon her check. I pitied Craca's fair. Now, like a dreadful wave afar, appeared the Ihip of flormy Borbar. His mafts high-bended over the fea behind tlicir llieets of fnow. White roll the vv-atcrs on cither fide. The ftrcngth of ocean founds. Come thou, I faid, from the roar of ocean, thou rider of the ftorm. Partake the feaft within my hall. It is the houfc of fcngcrs.- Tl:c maid flood trembling by my F fi>^Cj 66 F I N G A L, Eooiclir; fide ; he drew the bow : Ihe fell. Unerring is thy hand, I faid , but feeble was the foe. We fought, nor weak was the ftrife of death: He funk beneath my fword. We laid them in two tombs of ftones ; the unhappy children of youth. Such have I been in my youth, O Ofcar; be thou like the age of Fingal. Never feek the battle, nor Ihun it when it comes. Fillan and Ofcar of the dark-brown hair ; ye children of the race 5 fly over the heath of roaring winds 5 and view the fons of Lochlin. Far oif I hear the noife of their fear, like the ftorms of echo- ing Cona. Go : that they may not fly my fword along the waves of the north. For many chiefs of Erin's race lie here on the dark bed of death. The children of the llorm are low J the fons of echoing Cromla. The heroes flew like two dark clouds; twa dark clouds that are the chariots of ghofts; when air's dark children come to frighten hap- Icfs men. It was then that Gaul *, the fon of Morni, flood like a rock in the night. His fpear is glittering Gaul, the Ton. of Morni, was chief of a tribe that difputed long, the pre-eminence, with Fingal himfelf. They were re- duced at laft to obedience, and Gaul, from an enemy, turned Fingal's beft friend and greatell hero. His charaiSer is fome- thing Book III. An E P I C P O E M. i glittering to the ftars j his voice like many llreams.-^ Son of battle, cried the chief, O Fingal, king of fhells ! let the bards of many fongs footh Erin's friends to teft* And, Fingal, iheath thy fword of death ; and let thy people light. We wither away without our fame ; for our king is the only breaker of fhields. When inorning rifes on our hills, behold at a diftance our deeds. Let Lochlin feel the fword of Morni's fon, that bards may fing of me. Such was the cuftom heretofore of FingaKs noble race. Such was thine own, thou king of fwords, iii battles of the fpear* O SON of Morni, Fingal replied, I glory in thy fame. Fight ; but my fpear fhall be near to aid thee in the midft of danger. Raife, raife the voice, fons of the fong, and lull me into reft. Here will Fingal lie amidft the v/ind of night. And if thou, Agandecca, art near, among the children of thy land j if thou fittcft on a blaft of wind among the high-fiirowdcd mafts of Lochlin ; come to my dreams *, my fair one, and fhew thy bright face to my foul. thing like that of Ajax in the Iliad ; a hero of _morc fircngth than conduft in battle. He was very fond of mih'tary fame, and here he demands the next battle to hinifclf. The poet, by an artifice, removes Fingal, that his return may be the more mag- nificent. * The poet prepares us for she dream of Fingal in the next book. F 2 Mw^NY 6g F I N G A U Book IllI Many a voice and many a harp In tuneful founds arofe. Of Fingal's noble deeds they fung, and of the noble race of the hero. And fometimes on the lovely found was heard the name of the now mournful Oflian. Often have I fought, and often won in bat- tles of the fpear. But blind, and tearful, and forlorn I now walk with little men. O Fingal, with thy race of battle I now behold thee not. The wild roes feed upon the green tomb of the mighty king of Morven. Bleft be thy foul, thou king of fwords, thou moft renowned on the hills of Cona ! FINGAL, F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. BOOK IV. ' Fj ARGUMENT to BookW. ^he a5i\on of the poem heing fufpended hy night, OJftan ^ takes that opportunity to relate his own anions at the lake of Lego, and his courtfhip of Evir^llin, who ^was the mother of Of car , and bad diedfome time before the expedition of Fipgal into Ireland. Her. ghofi appears to him, and tells him that Ofcar, wba had been fent, the beginning of the night, to obferve the enemy, was engaged with an advanced party j and almojt overpowered. OJftan relieves his fon \ 4ind an alarm is given to Fingal of the approach of Swaran. The king rifes, calls his army together ^ 4ind, as he had promifed the preceding night, devolves the command on Gaul the fon of Morni, while he himfelf, after charging his fons to behave gallantly end defend his people, retires to a hill, from whence he could have a view of the battle. The battle joins ', the poet relates Ofcar^s great anions. But when Ofcar, in conjunction with his father, con- quered in one wing, Gaul, who was attacked by Swaran in perfon, was on the point of retreating in the other. Fingal fends Ullin his bard to encourage him with a warfong, but notwithfianding Swaran -prevails , and Gaul and his army are obliged to give way, Fingal, defc?nding from the hill, rallies them again: Swaran defifts from the purfuit, poffeffes himjelf of a r'lfing ground, reftores the ranks, and, waits the approach of Fingal. The king, having encouraged bis men, gives the neceffary orders, and renews the battle. Cucbullin, who, with his friend Connal, and Carril bis hard, had retired to the cave of Tura, bearing the noife, came to the brow cf the hill, which overlooked the field of battle^ where be faw Fingal engaged with the enemy. //^ being hindered hy Connal from joining Fingal, who was himfelf upon the point of obtaining a complete vi51ory, fends Carril to congratulate that here on his fnccefs. f 7> ] F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. In SIX BOOKS. BOOK IV*. TTiTHO comes with her fongs from the ^ " mountain, like the bow of the Ihowery Lena ? Ij: is the maid of the voice of love. The white-armed daughter of Tofcar. Often haft thou heard m^ fong, and given the tear of beauty. Doft thou come to the battles of thy people, and to hear the a6^ions of Ofcar? When * Fingal being afleep, and the alion fufpended by niglit, the poet introduces the ftory of his courtfliip of Evirallin the daugh- ter of Branno. The epifode is neceflary to clear up fevcral pnf- fages that follow in the poem; at the fame time that it naturaUy brings on the aftion of the book which, may be fuppofcd to be- gin about tlK middle of the third night from the opening of the poem. This book, as many of Oflian's other compolitions, is addreflfed to the beautiful Malvina tJie daughter of Tofcar, She appears to have been in love with Ofcar, and to have af- fedled the company of the father after the death of the Ton. - F 4 fl^all 72 F I N G A L, Book IV, iTiall I ceafp to maurn by the ftrcan[is of the .echoing Cona ? My years Have pafled away in battle, and my age is darkened with forrow. DAUGHTiiR of the hand of fnow ! I was not fo mournful and blind ; I was not fp dark an4 forlorn when Everallin loved me. Evcrallin with the dark-brown hair, the white-bofomed love of Cormac. A thoufand heroes fought the maid, llie denied her love to a thoufand ^ t^e fons of the fwqrd were defpifed j for graceful ir^ her eyes was Offian. 1 WENT in fuit of the maid to Lego's fable furge ; twelve of my people were there, the fons of the rtreamy Morven. We came to Branno friend of ftrangers : Branno of the founding mail. From whence, he faid, are the arms of Heel ? Not eafy to win is the maid that has de- nied the blue-eyed fons of Erin. But bleft be thou, O fon of Fingal, happy is the maid that waits thee. Tho' twelve daughters of beauty were mine, thine were the choice, thou fon of fame ! : :Then he opened the hall of the maid, the dark-haired Everallin. Joy kindled in our breafts of fteel and bleft tlie maid of Branno. Above us on the hill appeared the people of fiatcly Cormac. Eight were the heroes of the chief; and tlie heath flamed with their arms. lliere Colla, Durra of the wounds, there mighty Tofcar, Book IV. An EPIC POEM. yj Tofcar, and Tago, there Freftal the vi<5\orious flood ; Dairo of the happy deeds, and Dala the battle's bulwark in the narrow w^y. ^Thc 'fword flamed in the hand of Cormac, and grace- ful was the look of the hero. < Eight were the heroes of Oflianj Ullln ftormy fon of war j Mullo of the generous deeds ; the noble, the graceful Scelacha ; Oglan, ' and Cerdal the wrathful, and Duma-riccan's brows of death. And why fhould Ogar be the laft 5 fo wide renowned on the hills of Ardven ? Ogar met Dala the ftrong, face to face, on the field of heroes. The battle of the chiefe was ' like the wind on ocean's foamy waves. The dagger is remembered by Ogar j the weapon which he loved ; nine times he drowned it in Dala's fide. The f^ormy battle turned. Three times I pierced Cormac's flneld : three times he broke his fpear. But, unhappy youth of love ! I cut his head away. Five times I fhook it by the lock. The friends of Cormac fled. Whoever would have told me, lovely maid*, when then 1 ftrove in battle j that blind, for- faken, and forlorn I now Ihould pafs the night; firm ought his mail to have been, and un- matched his arm in battle. * The poet addrelTcs hirafelf to Malvina '.he daughter of Tofcar. Now 74 F I N G A L; Book IV. Now * on Lena's gloomy heath the voice of mufic died away. The unconftant blaft blew hard, and the high oak Ihook its leaves around me ; of Everallin were my thoughts, when ihe, in all the light of beauty, and her blue eyes rolling in tears, flood on a cloud before my fight, and fpoke with feeble voice. O OssiAN, rife and fave my fon ; fave Ofcar chief of men, near the red oak of Lubar's flream, he fights with Lochlin's fons. She funk into her cloud again. I clothed me with my fteel. My fpear fupported my fteps, and my rattling armour rung. I hummed, as I was wont in danger, the fongs of heroes of old. Like diftant thunder t* Lochlin heard j they fled 5 my fon purfued. * The poet returns to his fubjel. If one could fix the time of the year in which the aftion of the poem happened, from the fcene defcribed here, I Ihould be tempted to place it in autumn. The trees fhed their leaves, and the winds are variable, both which circumllances agree with that feafon of the year. f Offian gives the reader a high idea of himfelf. His very fong frightens the enemy. This paflage refembles one in the eighteenth Iliad, where the voice of Achilles frightens the Tro- jans from the body of Patroclus, Forth march'd the chief, and diftant from the crowd High on the rampart rais'd his voice aloud. So high his brazen voice the hero rear'd, Hofts drop their arms and trembled as they fear*d. POPB. I CALLED Book IV. An E P I C P O E M. 75 I CALLED him like a dft&nt ftream. My Ton return over Lena. No further purfue the foe, though Offian is behind thee. -He came ; and lovely in my ear was Ofcar's founding fteel. Why didft thou flop my hand, he faid, till fileath had covered all ? For dark and dreadful by the ft ream they met thy fon and Fillan. They watched the terrors of the night. Our fwords have conquered fome. But as the winds of night pour the ocean over the white- fands of Mora, fo dark advance the fons of Lochlin over Lena's ruftling heath. Tht ghofts of night ihrick afar ; and 1 have feen the meteors of death. Let me awake the king of Morven, he tliat fmiles in danger ; for he is like the fon of heaven that rifes in a ftorm. FiNGAL had ftarted from a dream, and leaned on Trenmor's Ihield ; the dark-brown ihield of his fathers; which they had lifted of old in the battles of their race. The hero had feen in his reft the mournful form of Agandecca j fhe came from the way of the ocean, and flowly, lonely, moved over Lena. Her face was pale like the mift of Cromla; and dark were the tears of her cheek. She often raifcd her dim hand from her robe ; her robe which was of the clouds of the defart ; ftie ralfed her dim hand over Fingal, and turned away her filent eyes. Why I' 76 F I N G A L, Book IVi Why weeps the daughter of Starno, faid Fin- gal, with a figh ? Why is thy face fo pale, thou daughter of the clouds ? She departed on the wind of Lena j and left him in the midft of the night. She mourned the fons of her people that were to fall by Fingal's hand. The hero ftarted from reft, and ftill beheld her in his foul.-^ -The found of Ofcar's ftcps approached. The king faw the grey fhield on his fide. For the faint beam of the morning came over the waters of UUin. What do the foes in their fear ? faid the rifing king of Morven. Or fly they through ocean's foam, or wait they the battle of fteel ? But why Jhould Fingal afk ? I hear their voice on the early wind. Fly over Lena's heath, O Ofcar, and awake our friends to battle. The king flood by the ftone of Lubar j and thrice raifed his terrible voice. The deer ftarted from the fountains of Cromlaj and all the rocks fhook on their hills. Like the noife of a hun- dred mountaln-ftreams, that burft, and roar, and foam : like the clouds that gather to a tem- ^ peft on the blue face of the fky j fo met the fons of the defart, round the terrible voice of Fin- gal. For pleafant was the voice of the king of Morven to the warriors of his land : often h^ad he gbOK IV. An E P I C P 6 Ei M. 77 he led them to battle, and returned with the fpoils of the foe. Come to battle, faid the king, ye children of the fiorm. Come to the death of thoufands. Comhal's fon will fee the fight. My fword fliall wave on that hill, and be the fhield of my "people. But never may you need it, warriors ; while the fon of Morni fights, the chief of mighty men. He Ihall lead my battle ; that his fame may rife in the fong. O ye ghofts of heroes dead ! ye riders of the ftorm of Cromla ! receive my falling people with joy, and bring them to your hills. And may the blaft of Lena carry them over my feas, that they may come to my filcnt dreams, and delight my foul in reft. FiLLAN and Ofcar, of the dark-brown hair! fair Ryno, with the pointed fl:eel ! adyance with valour to the fight ; and behold the fon of Morni. Let your fvvords be like his in the firifc : and bcliold the deeds of his hands. Pro- tcSi the friends of your father : and remember the chiefs of old. My children, I ihall fee you yet, though here ye ihould fall in Erin. Soon ihall our cold, pale ghofts meet in a cloud, and lly over the hills of Cona. Now like a dark and ftormy cloud, edged round with the red lightning of heaven, and flying 9 7* F I N G A L, Book TV* flying weft ward from the morning's beam, the king of hills removed. Terrible is the light of his armour, and two fpears are in his hand. His gray hair falls on the wind. He often looks back on the war. Three bards attend thq fon of fame, to carry his words to the heroes.--^ High on Cromla's fide he fat, waving the light- ning of his fword, and as he waved we moved. Joy rofe in Ofcar's face. His cheek is red. His eye Iheds tears. The fword is a beam of fire in his hand. He came, and fmiling, fpoke to Offian. ^O ruler of the fight of fteel ! my father, hear thy fon. Retire with Morven's mighty chief; and give me Offian's fame. And if here I fall ; my king, remember that breaft of fnow, that lonely fun-beam of my love, the white-handed daughter of Tofcar. For with red cheek from the rock, and bending over the ftream, her foft liair flies about her bofom as Ihe pours the figh for Ofcar. Tell her I am on my hills a lightly-bounding fon of the wind j that hereafter, in a cloud, I may meet the lovely maid of Tofcar. Raise, Ofcar, rather raife my tomb. I will not yield the fight to thee. For firfl and bloodiefl in the war my arm Ihall teach thee how to figlit. But, remember, my fon, to place this fword, this bow, and the horn of my deer. Book IV. An EPIC POEM. 79 deer, within that dark and narrow houfe, whofc mark is one gray ftone. Ofcar, I have no love to leave to the care of my fon ; for graceful Evirallln is no more, the lovely daughter of Branno. Such were our words, when Gaul's loud voice came growing on the wind. He waved on high the fword of his father, and rufhed to death and wounds. As waves white-bubbling over the deep come fwelling, roaring onj as rocks of ooze meet roaring waves : fo foes attacked and fought. Man met with man, and fteel with fteel. Shields found ; men fall. As a hundred ham- mers on the fon of the furnace, fo rofe, fo rung their fwords. Gaul rufhed on like a whirlwind in Ardven. The deftrudion of heroes Is on his fword. Swaran was like the fire of the dcfart in the echoing heath of Gormal. How can I give to the fong' the death of many fpears ? My fword rofe high, and flamed in the ftrife of blood. And, Ofcar, terrible wcrt thou, my Ix^ft, my greateft fon! I rejoiced in my fccrct foul, when his fword flamed over the flaln. They fled amain through Lena's heath : and wc purfucd and flew. As ftoncs that bound from rock to rock } as axes in echoing woods ; as tluindcr 4 rolls to^ F I N G A L, Book IV. roils, from hill to hill ia difmal broken peals ; {a blow fuccceded to blow, and death to death'/ from the hand of Ofcar * and mine. But Swarah clofcd round Morni's fon, as the flrcngth of the tide of Iniftorc. The king half-rofe from his hill at the fight, and half- afTumed the fpcar. Go, Ullin, go, my aged bard, begun the king of Morven. Remind the mighty Gaul of battle ; remind him of his fa- thers. Support the yielding fight with fong; for fong enlivens war. Tall Ullin went, with fieps of age, and fpoke to the king of fwords. Son 'j- of the chief of generous fteeds ! high- bounding king of fpears. Strong arm in every perilous toil. Hard heart that never yields. Chief of the pointed arms of death. Cut down the foe j let no white fail bound round dark * Ofuan never falls to gtvc a fine clir.raficr of his beloved fan. Kis fpeech to bis father is that of a hero ; it contains the fubmif- f)OU due to a parent, and the w.irmih that becomes a young war- rior. There is a propriety in dwelling here on the afiions of Ofcar, as tl;c beautiful i\'Ialv'ina, to whom the book is addre/Ted, was in love with that hero. f The war- fong of Ullin vanes from the refi of the poem in the vcrfilTcation. It runs down like a torrent; and confifls al- mofl: iiitircly of epithe^5. The cullom of encouraging men in l-;attle with extempore rhymes, has been carried down almoft to cur ov.n rimes. Several of the'c war-fongs are extant, but the niofiofihem are only a group of epithets, without beauty or hr.rmo::y, utterly deilitttte of poetical merit. Iniftore. Book IV. An E P I C P O E M. 8i Iniftore. Be thine arm like thunder. Thine eyes like fire, thy heart of folid rock. Whirl round thy fword as a meteor at night, and lift thy fhield like the flame of death. Son of the chief of generous fteeds, cut down the foe; de- ftroy. The hero's heart beat high. But Swaran came with battle. He cleft the lliield of Gaul in twain ; and the fons of the defart fled. . Now Fingal arofe in his might, and thrice he reared his voice. Cromla anfwered around, and the fons of the defart flood ftill. They bent their red faces to earth, alhamed at the prefence of Fingal. He came like a cloud of rain in the days of the fun, when flow it rolls on the hill, and fields expert the fhower. Swaran beheld the terrible king of Morven, and flopped in the midfl of his courfe. Dark he leaned on his fpear, rolling his red eyes around. Silent and tall he feemed as an oak on the banks of Lubar, which had its branches blafled of o d by the lightning of heaven. It bends over the flream, imd the gray mofs whittles in the wind : fo flood the king. Then flowly lie retired to the rifing heath of Lena. His thoufands pour around the hero, and the darkncfs of battle gathers on the hill. Fingal, like a beam from heaven, fhone in the midfl of his people. His heroes gather G around ii F I N G A L, BooKlV. around him, and he fends forth the voice of his Jjower. Raife my ftandards * on high, fpread them on Lena's wind, like the flames of an hun- dred hills. Let them found on the winds of Erinj ^nd remind us of the fight. Ye fons of the roaring ftreams, that pour from a thoufand hills, be near the king of Morven : attend to the words of his power. Gaul ftrongeft arm of death ! O Ofcar, of the future fights ; Connal, Ion of the blue i^eel of Sora ; Dermid of the dark-brown hair, and Offian king of many fongs, be near your father's arm. We reared the fun-beam t ^^ battle ; the ftandard of the king* Each hero's foul exulted with joy, as, waving, it .flew on the wind. It was ftudded with gold above, as the blue wide Ibell of the nightly iky. Each hero had his flandard too j and each his gloomy men. Behold, faid the king of generous lhells,how Lochlin divides on Lena. They ftand like broken clouds on the hill, or an half confumed grove of oaks -, when we ice the % through * Th' imperial enfign, which full high advanc'd, Shone like a meteor ttreaming to the wind. Milton. t Fingal's ftandard was diilinguiflied by the name oi fun-beajn', prolr.ihly on account of its bright colour, and its being ftudded with gold. To begin a batllc is oxprcflcd, in old compofition, by lifii^'-g of ih'i fiin-bcam, its JBoQKlV. An EPIC POEM. 83 its branches, and the meteor paffing behind. Let every chief among the friends of Fingal take a dark troop of thofe that frown fo high j nor let a fon of the echoing groves bound on the waves of Iniftore. Mine, faid Gaul, be the feven chiefs that eame from Lano's lake. Let Iniftore's dark king, faid Ofcar, come to the fword of Offian*s fon. To mine the king of Inifcon, faidCon- nal, heart of fteel! Or Mudan's chief or I, faid brown-haired Dermid, Ihall fleep on clay-cold earth. My choice, though now fo weak and dark, was Terman's battling king j I promifcd with my hand to win the hero's dark-brown ihicld. Bleft and victorious be my chiefs, faid Fingal of the mildcft look ; Swaran, king of roaring waves, thou art the choice of Fingal. Now, like an hundred different winds that pour through many vales j divided, dark, the forts of the hill advanced, and Cromla echoed around. How can I relate the deaths when we clofed in the ftrife of our fteel? O daughter of Tof- clr ! bloody were our hands ! The gloomy ranks of Lochlin fell like the banks of the roar- ing Cona. Our arms were vii^orious on Lena j each chief fulfilled his promife. Befidc the murmur of Branno thou didft often fit, O G 2 maid 3 84 F I N G A L, Book IV. maid ; when thy white bofom rofe frequent, like ^ the down of the fvvan when flow Ihe fails the lake, and lidelong winds are blowing. ^Thou haft feen the fun * retire red and flow behind his cloud J night gathering round on the moun- ' tain, while the unfrequent blaft f roared in nar- row vales. At length the rain beats hard ; and thunder rolls in peals. Lightning glances on the rocks. Spirits ride on beams of fire. And * Sol quoque l exorlem l cum/e condtt in undas Signa dahit. So/em certijjima fignafei^uuntury JJt qua mane refert, fe" qua: fiirgenlihus ajlris. Ilk ubi na/centem fnactdn varia'verit ortum Cotid'ttus in nubeniy meaioque refugerit or be ; Su/peti tihifunt imbres. ViRG. Above the reft the fun, who never jies, Foretels the change cf weather in the fkies. For if he rife, unwilling to his race. Clouds on his brow and fpots upon his face ; Or if thro' mifls he fhocts his fullen beams. Frugal of light, in loofe and ftraggiing flreams, Sufpedl a drilling day. D r y d J N, j- Continuo ^-ejit is fur genii bus aut freta ponti Incipiu7it agitata tumefcere ; y aridus alt is Montibus audiri fragor, aut refjiiantia longe Littora m'/ceriy Cif neimrum iticrebe/cere munnur. ViRG. For ere the rifing winds begin to roar. The working feas advance to wafh the fhore ; Soft whiipcrs run along the leafy wood, And mountains whiftle to the murm 'ring flood. Dryden. the Book IV. An E P I C P O E M. 85 the ftrength of the mountain-ftreams * comes roaring down the hills. Such was the noife of battle, maid of the arms of fnow. Why, daughter of the hill, that tear ? the maids of Lochlin have caufe to weep. The people of their country fell, for bloody was the blue^ fteel of the race of my heroes. But I am fad, for- lorn, and blind j and no more the companion of heroes. Give, lovely maid, to me thy tears, for I have fcen the tombs of all my friends. It was then by Flngal's hand a hero fell, to his grief. Gray-haired he rolled in the duft, and lifted his faint eyes to the king. And is it by me thou haft fallen, faid the fon of Comhal, thou friend of Agandccca ! I faw thy tears for the maid of my love in the halls of the bloody Starno. I'hou haft been the foe of the foes of my love, and haft thou fallen by my hand ? Ralfe, Uilin, raife the grave of the fon of Ma- thon : and give his name to the fong of Agan- decca ; for dear to my foul haft thou been, thou darkly-dwelling maid of Ardven. J ruunt de mcntihus avvus. V i r g. The rapid rains, dcicending from the hil's, To rolling torreiib I'well the creeping rill.-;. Dryden. G 3 CUCHULLIN, 86 F I N G A L, Book IV, CucHULLiN, from the cave of Cromla, hear4 the noife of the troubled war. He called to Connal chief of fwords, and Carril of other times. The gray-haired heroes heard his voice, and took their afpen fpears. They came, and faw the tide of battle, like the crowded waves of the ocean ; when the dark wind blows from the deep, and rolls the billows through the fandy vale. CucHULLiN kindled at the fight, and dark- nefs gathered on his brow. His hand is on the fword of his fathers : his red-rolling eyes on the foe. He thrice attempted to rufh to battle, and thrice did Connal flop him. Chief of the iflc of mift, he faid, Fingal fubdues the foe. Seek not a part of the fame of the king ; himfelf is like a ftorm. Then, Carril, go, replied the chief, and greet the king of Morven. When Lochlin falls away like a ftream after rain, and the noife of the battle is over, then be thy voice fweet in his ear to praife the king of fwords. Give him the fword of Caithbat ; for Cuchullin is v/orthy no more to lift the arms of his fathers. But, O ye ghofts of the lonely Cromla ! ye fouls of chiefs that are no more ! be ye the com- panions of Cuchallin, and talk to him in the cave of his borrow. For never more iball I be renowned Book IV. An E P I C P O E M. 87 renowned among the mighty in the laijd. I am like a beam that has fhone ; like a mift that fled away, when the blaft of the morning came, and brightened the Ihaggy fide of the hill. Con- nal, talk of arms no more : departed is my fame.- My fighs fliall be on Cromla' wind, till my footfteps ceafe to be feen. And thou, white-bofom'd Bragela, mourn over the fall of my fame ; for, vanquillied, I will never return ^o thee, thou fun-beam of Dunfcaich, G 4 F I N G A L, F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. BOOK V. ARGUMENT to BookV. Cuchullin and Connaljlill remain on the hill. Fingal and Swaran meet -, the combat is defcrihed, Swa^ ran is overcome, bound and delivered over as a prifoner to the care of OJfian and Gaul the Jon of Morni ', Fingal, his younger fons, and Of car ^ flill furfue the enemy. The epifode of Orla a chief of Lochlin, who was mortally wounded in the battle, is introduced. Fingal, touched with the death of Orla, orders the purfuit to be dif- continued ; and calling his fons together, he is in- formed that Ryno, the youngeji of them, was killed. He laments his death, hears the Jlory of Lamdarg and Gelchoffa, and returns towards th&i place where he had left Swaran. Carril, who had been fent by Cuchullin to congratulate Firigal on his vi^ory, comes in the mean time to OJfian, The converfation of the two poets clofes the a^ion "/ the fourth day. [ 91 3 F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. In SIX BOOKS. BOOK V*. NO W Connal, on Cromla's windy fide, fpoke to the chief of the noble car. Why that gloom, fon of Semo ? Our friends arc the mighty in battle. And renowned art thou, O warrior ! many were the deaths of thy fteel. Often has Bragela met \yith blue-rolling eyes of The fourth day ftill continues. The poet by putting the narration in the mouth of Connal, who ftill remained with Cu- chullin on the iide of Cromla, gives propriety to the praifes of Fingal. The beginning of this book, n the original, is one of the molt beautiful parts of the poem. The verification is regu- lar and full, and agrees very well with the fedate charafler of Connal. No poet has adapted the cadence of his verfe more to the temper of the fpeaker, than Oflian has done. It is more than probable that the whole poem was originally defigned to be fung to the harp, as the verfification is fo various, and fo much iuic^ to the different paffions of the human mind. Jo7> 92 F I N G A L, BookV. joy, often has fhe met her hero, returning in the midft of the valiant ; when his fword was red with flaughter, and his foes filent in the fields of the tomb. Pleafant to her ears were thy bards, when thine actions rofe in the fong. But behold the king of Morven ; he moves below like a pillar of fire. His ftrength is like the ftream of Lubar, or the wind of the echoing Cromla ; when the branchy forefts of night are overturned. Happy are thy people, O Fingal, thine arm ihall fight their battles : thou art the firft in their dangers ; the wifefi in the days of their peace. Thou fpeakeft and thy thoufands obey ; and armies tremble at the found of thy fteel. Happy are thy people, Fingal, chief of the lonely hills. Who is that fo dark and terrible, coming in the thunder of his courfe? who i^ it but Starno's fon to meet the king of Morven ? Behold the battle of the chiefs : it is like the fiorm of the ocean, when two fpirits meet far diflant, and contend for the rolling of the wave. The hun- ter hears the noife on his hill ; and fees the high billows advancing to Ardven's fliore. Such were the words of Connal, when the heroes met in the midlt of their falling people. There was the clang of arms ! there every blow, like BookV. An epic poem. 9^ like the Hundred hammers of the furnace ! Ter- rible is the battle of the kings, and horrid the look of their eyes. Their dark-brown fhields are cleft in twain ; and their fteel flies, broken, from their helmets. They fling their weapons down. Each rulhes * to the grafp of his foe., Their finewy arms bend round each other : they turn from fide to fide, and ftrain and ftretch their large fpreading limbs below. But when the pride of their flrength arofe, they fhook the. hill with their heels ; rocks tumble from their places on high ; the green-headed bulhes are overturned. At length the flrength of Swaran fell ; and the king of the groves is bound. Thus have I feen on Conaj (but Cona I be- hold no more) thus have I feen two dark hills removed from their place by the flrength of the burfting flream. They toirn from fide to fide, and their tall oaks meet one another on high. Then they fall together with all their rocks and This paflage rcfembles one in the twenty-third Iliad. Clofe lock'd above their heads and arms arc mixt j- Below their planted feet at diftance fixt ; Now to the grafp each manly body bends ; The humid fweat from ev'ry pore defcends; Their bones refound with blows : fides, fhoulders, thighs. Swell to each gripe, and bloody tumours rife. Pope. trees. 94 F I N G A L,- BbbK V; tree^. The ftreams are turned by their fides^ and the red ruin is feen afar. Sons of the king of Morven, faid the noble Fingalj guard the king of Lochlin ; for he is ftrong as his thoufand waves. His hand is taught to the battle, and his race of the times of old. Gaul, thou firft of my heroes, and Oflian king of fongs,' attend the friend of Agandecca, and raife to joy his grief. ^But, Ofcar, Fillan, and Ryno, ye children of the race ! purfue the reft of Lochlin over the heath of Lena ; that no veflel may hei'eafter bound on the dark-rolling waves of Iniftore* They flew like lightning ovfer the heathi He flowly moved as a cloud of thunder when the fultry plain of fummer is filent. His fword is before him as a fun -beam, terrible as the ft ream- ing meteor of night. He came toward a chief of Lochlin, and fpokc to the fon of the wave. Who is that like a cloud at the rock of the roaring ftream ? He cannot bound over its courfe ; yet ftately is the chief ! his bofTy lliield is on his fide ; and his fpear like the tree of the defart. Youth of the dark-brov/n hair, art thou of Fingal's foes? I AM Book V. An E P 1 C P O E M. 95 I AM a fon of Lochlin, he cries, andfti^ong is my arm in war. My fpoufe is weeping at home, but Orla * will never return. Or fights or yields the hero, faid Fingal of the noble deeds ? foes do not conquer in my prefence : but my friends are renowned in the hall. Son of the wave, follow me, partake the feaft of my Ihells, and purfue the deer of my defart. No : faid the hero, I affift the feeble : my ftrength Ihall remain with the weak in arms. My fword has been always unmatched, O war- rior : let the king of Morven yield. I NEVER yielded, Orla, Fingal never yielded to man. Draw thy fword and chufe thy foe. Many are my heroes. And does the king rcfufe the Combat, faid Orla of the dark-brown hair ? Fingal is a match for Orla : and he alone of all his race. ^But, king of Morven, if I fliall fall j (as one time the warrior muft die ;) raife my tomb in the midft, and let it be tlie greateft on Lena. And fend, over the dark-blue wave, the fword of * The nory of Orla is fo beautiful and affe.'^inp; in the original, that many are in poilelfion of it in the north of Scotland, who never heard a fyllable more of the poem. It varies the adion, and awakes the attention of tiie reader when heexpeflcd nothing h\v lanj^uor in thecondvift of thf poem, as the great adtion was over ii! the coiiquell of Swavan. Orla ,^6 F 1 N G A L, BookV. Orla to the fpoufc of his love ; that fhe may fhew it to her fon, with tears, to kindle his foul to war. Son of the mournful tale, faid Fingal, why doft thou awaken my tears ? One day the war- riors muft die, and the children fee their ufelefs arms in the hall. But, Orla, thy tomb Ihall rife, and thy white -bofomed fpoufe weep over thy fword. They fought on the heath of Lena, but fee- ble was the arm of Orla. The fword of Fingal defcended, and cleft his fhield in twain. It fell and glittered on the ground, as the moon on the ftream of night. King of Morven, faid the hero, lift thy fword, and pierce my breaft. Wounded and faint from battle my friends have left me here. The mournful tale Ihall come to my love on the banks of the ftreamy Loda ; when ihe is alone in the woodj and the ruftling blaft in the leaves. No ; faid the king of Morven, I will never wound thee, Orla. On the banks of Loda let her fee thee efcaped from the hands of war. Let thy gray-haired father, who, perhaps, is blind with age, hear the found of thy voice in his hall. With joy let the hero rife, and fearch for his fon with his hands. But FdoKV. An EPrC POEM. ^^ But never will he find him, Fingal ; faid the youth of the ftreamy Loda. On Lena's heath I lliall die ; and foreign bards will talk of me. My broad belt covers my wound of death. And now I give it to the wind. The dark blood poured ffom his fide, he fell pale on the heath of Lena. Fingal bends over him as he dies, and calls his younger heroes. Oscar and Fillan, my fons, raife high the memory of Orla. Here let the dark-haired hero reft far from the fpoufe of his love^ Here let him reft in his narrow hbufe far from the found of Loda. The fons of the feeble will find his bow at home, but will not be able to bend it. His faithful dogs howl on his hills, and his boars, which he ufed to purfue, rejoice. Fallen is the arm of battle j the mighty among the va- -liajit is Idw ! Exalt the voice, and blow the horn, ye Cbns q{ the king of Morven : let us go back to Swaran, and fend the night away on fong. Fillan, Ofcar, and Ryno, fly Over the heath of Lena. Where, Ryno, art thou, young fon of fame ? Thou art not wont to be the laft to ai> fwer thy father. Ryno, faid Ullin firft of bards, is with th? . awful forms of his fathers. With Trathal king 6>f jhiclds^ ^nd Tyenmor of th? niighty deed$. 9^: F I N G A L, Book V. The youth is low, the youth Is pale, he lies on Lena's heath. :>!{' And fell the fwifteft in the race, faid the king, the firft to bend the bow ? Thou fcarce haft been known to me : why did young Ryno fall ?- But deep thou foftly on Lena, Fingal fhall foon behold thee. Soon lliall my voice be heard no more, and my footfteps ceafe to be feen. The bards will tell of Fingal's name j the ftones will talk of me. But, Ryno, thou art low indeed, thou haft not received thy fame. Ullin, ftrike the harp for Ryno ; tell what the chief would have been. Farewel, thou firft in every lield. No more ftiall I diredV thy dart. Thou that haft been fo fair ; I behold thee not Farewel. Th e tear is on the cheek of the king ; for terrible was his fon in war. His fon ! that was like a beam of fire by night on the hill ; when the forefts fink down in its courfe, and the tra- veller trembles at the found. ' Whose fame is in tliat dark-green tomb, be- giin the king of generous lliells ? four ftones -with their heads of mofs ftand there -, and mark tlie narrow houfe of death. Near it let my -Ryno reft, and be the neighbour of the valiant. Perhaps fome chief of fame is here to fly with jaiy ibn on clouds. O Ullin, raife the fongs of other BookV. An epic poem. 9^ other times. Bring to memory the dark dwel- lers of the tomb. If in the field of the Taliant they never fled from danger, my fon Ihall reft with them, far from his friends, on the heath of Lena. - '^-^ ' Here, faid the mouth of the fong, here reft the firft of heroes. Silent is Lamderg * in this tomb', and Ullinking of fwords. And who, foft fmiling from her cloud, fhews me her face of love? Why, daughter, why fo pale art thou, firft of the maids of Cromla ? Doft thou flecp with the foes' in battle, Gelchofia, white-bo- fomed daughter of Tuathal? -Thou haft been the IbVe of thoufands, but Lamderg was thy love. He came to Selma's mofly towers,- and,, ftriking his dark buckler, fpoke : Where is Gelchofia, my love, the daughter of the noble Tuathal ? I left her in the hall of Selma, when I fought with the gloomy Ulfedda. Return foon, O Lamderg, ftie faid, for here I am in the midft of forrow. Her white breaft rofe with fighs. Her cheek was wet with tears. But I fee her not coming to meet me $ and to footh my fouV after battle. Silent is the hall of my joy ; I hear not the voice of the bard. * Lamh-dhearg fignifies bloody hand. GelchofTa, 'tuhitt Itggti. TuaihaJ, furlj, Ulfadda, long-beard. Ferchios, tht conqueror of mm, H * Bran ]^o :h\F IN G A L/ Boox^Y.: jgran * does not lliake his chains at the gate, glad at the coming of Lamderg. Where is Gel cholTa, . my love, the mild daughter of the. generous Tuathal ? > i.-.^iui. i^i .u.. Lamderg ! fays Ferchios the fon of Aidon^ Gelchoffa may be on Cromla ; llie and tjie jnaids of the bow purfuing the flying deer. ) jiVi f. Ferchios ! replied the, chief of Cromla, no noife meets the ear of Lamderg. No found is in the woods of Lena. No, deer fly in my %ht. No panting dog purfues* I fee not Gelchoffa my love, fair as the full moon fetting on the hills of Cromla. Go, Ferchios, go to Allad -f* the gray-haired fon of the rock. His dwelling is in the circle of llone^ ..He.^mayiltnojy, o-f Gelchofla. . ; .' ix:\-[oy' r'^ ^M' vriL'; . . Th e fon* of Aidon went i^ and fpoke tcy the. ear .of age. Allad I thou that dwelleft in 'the- rock, thou that tremblefl alone, what faw thine eyes of age ?. , . r,:; ool aiiJ:j:-< j; ' . . - .... ^' - : -^ . * Bran is a common name of gray- hounds to this day. It is a cuftom in the north of Scotland, to give the names dtxhe heroes mentioned in this poem, to their dogs ; a proof that they are fa- Tiniliar to the ear, and their fame generally known. . f Allad is plainly a druid : he is called the fon of the rock, from his dwellicg in a cave ; and the circle of ftones here men- tioned is the pale of the druidical temple. He is here confultcd as one who had a fupernatural knowledge of things ; iiom the drui(^s, no doubt, came the ridiculous notion of the i^econd light, which prevailed in the highlands and iiles. I SAV, BookV: An epic poem. lor I SAW, anfwered Allad the old, Ullin the fon of Cairbar. He came like a cloud from Cromla ;' and he hummed a furly fong like a blaft in a leaflefs wood. He entered the hall of Selma. Lamderg, he faid, moft dreadful of men, fight or yield to Ullin. Lamderg, replied Gel- cholTa, the fon of battle, is not here. He fights Ulfadda mighty chief. He is not here, thou firft of men. But Lamderg never yielded. He will fight the fon of Cairbar. Lovely art thou, faid terrible Ullin, daugh- ter of the generous Tuathal. I carry thee to Cairbar's halls. The valiant fliall have Gel- chofla. Three days I remain on Cromla, to wait that fon of battle, Lamderg. On the fourth Gelchofla is mine, if the mighty Lamderg flies. Allad ! faid the chief of Cromla, peace to thy dreams in the cave. Fcrchios, found the horn of Lamderg that Ullin may hear on Cromla. Lamderg*, like a roaring ftorm, af- cended the hill from Selma. He hummed a furly fong as he went, like the noife of a filling flrcam. He flood like a cloud on the hill, that varies its form to the wind. He rolled a ftone^ * The reader will find this pa/Tage altered from what it was in the fragments of ancient poetry. It is delivered down very differently by tradition, and the tranflator has chofen that read- ing which favours leaft of bombaft. H 3 tha TOi F I N G A L, Book V. the fign of war. Ullin heard in Cairbar's hall. The hero heard, with joy, his foe, and took his father's fpear. A fmile brightens his dark- brown cheek, as he places his fword by his fide. The dagger glittered in his hand. He whittled as he went. Gelchossa faw the filent chief, as a wreath of mift afcending the hill. She firuck her white and heaving breaft j and filent, tearful, feared for Lamderg. Cairbar, hoary chief of ihells, faid the maid of the tender hand j I muft bend the bow on Cromla j fpr I fee the dark-brown hinds. She hafted up the hill. In vain ! the gloomy heroes fought. Why fhould I tell the king of Morven how wrathful heroes fight ! Fierce Ullin fell. Young Lamderg came all pale to the daughter of generous Tuathal. What blood:, my love, the foft-haired wo- man faid, what blood runs down my warrior's fide ? It is Ullin's blood, the chief replied, thou fairer than the fnow of Cromla ! Gelchofia, let me reft here a little while. The mighty Lamderg died. And fieepeft thoufofoon on earth, O chief of fhady Gromla ? three days fhe mourned befide her love. The hunters found her dead. They raifed this tomb above the three. Thy 6 fon. BookV. An epic POEM. 103 fon, O king of Morven, may reft here with heroes. And here my fon fhall reft, laid Fingal, the noife of their fame has reached my ears. Fillan and Fergus ! bring hither Orla ; the pale youth of the ftream of Loda. Not unequalled fhall Ryno lie in earth when Orla is by his fide. Weep, ye daughters of Morven j and ye maids of the ftreamy Loda. Like a tree they grew on the hills J and they have fallen like the oak * of the defart ; when it lies acrofs a ftream, and withers in the wind of the mountain. Oscar !^ chief of every youth! thou {ce^ how they have fallen. Be thou, like them, on earth renowned. Like them the fong of bards. Terrible were their forms in battle ; but cahn was Ryno in the days of peace. He was like th6 bow of the fhower feen far diftant on the ftream ; when the fun is fetting on Mora, and filence on the hill of deer. Reft, youngeft of my fons, reft, O Ryno, on Lena. We too Ihall be no more ; for the warrior one day muft fall, * u oTt TK o^t'? nfi'Tiv HOM. II. 16. as the mountain oak Nods to the ax, till with a groaning found It finks, and Ipreads its honours on the ground. Pope. H 4 SVCH J04 F I N G A L, BoQK V, Such was thy grief, thou king of hills, when Ryno lay on earth. What muft the grief of Offian be, for thou thyfelf art gone. I hear pot thy diftant voice on Cona. My eyes perceive thee not. Often forlorn and dark I fit at thy tomb ; and feel it with vciy hands. When I think I hear thy voice ; it is but the blaft of the defart. Fingal has long fince fallen afleep, the ruler of the war. TijEN Qaul and Offian fat with Swaran on the foft green banks of Lubar. I touched the harp to pleafe the king. But gloomy was his brow. He rolled his red eyes to\yards Lena. The hpro mourned his people, I jLiFTED my eyes to Cromla, and I faw the fon of generous Semo.- Sad and flow he re- tired from his hill towards the lonely cave of Tura. He faw Fingal vi(?loriQUs, and mixe4 his joy with grief. The fun is bright on his armour, and Connal flo\v|y followed. They funk behind the hill like two pillars of the fire of night : when winds purfue them over the moun-r tain, and the flaming heath refounds. Befide a llream of roaring foam his cave is in a rock. One tree bends above it ; and the rufhing winds echo againft its fides. Here refts the chief of Dunfcalch, the fon of generous Semo. His thoughts are on the battle he lofi j and the tear is BookV. An epic POEM. log 4s on his cheek. He mourned the departure of his fame that fled like the mift of Cona. O Bra- gela, thou art too far remote to cheer th^; ipui of the hero. But let him fee thy bright fonn iip his foul ; that his thoughts may return to th^ lonely fun-beam of Dunfcaich. Wijo comes with the locks of age ? It Is the fon of fongs. Hail, Carril of other times, thy voice is like the harp in the halls of Tura. Thy words are pleafant as the fhowcr tliat falls on the fields of the fun. Carril of the times of old, why comeft thou from the fon of the generous Semo ? OssiAN king of fwords, replied the bard, thou beft raifeft the fong. Long haft thou been known to Carril, thou ruler of battles. Often have I touched the harp to lovely Evirallin, ,Thou too haft often accompanied my voice in Branno's hall of generous fhells. And often, amidft our voices, was heard the mildeft Evi- rallin. One day fhe fung of Cormac's fall, the youth that died for her love. 1 faw the tears on her cheek, and on thine, thou chief of men. Her foul was touched for the unhappy, though Ihe loved him not. How fair among a thoufand maids was the daughter of the generous Branno ! Bring not, Carril, I replied, bring not her jnempry to my mind. My foul muft melt at the io6 F I N G A L. Book V. the remembrance. My eyes muft have their tears. Pale in the earth is fhe the foftly-blulhing fair of my love. But fit thou on the heath, O Bard, and let us hear thy voice. It is pleafant as the gale of fpring that fighs on the hunter's ear ; when he wakens from dreams of joy, and has heard the mufic of the fpirits of the hill. F I N G A L, F I N G A L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. BOOK VI. ARGUMENT to Book VI. Night comes on. Fingal gi*ues a feaji to his army^ at which Swaran is prefent. The king commands Vllin his hard to give the fong of peace ; a cufiom always obferved at the end of a war, JJllin relates the anions ofTrenmory great grands father to Fingal, in Scandinavia, and his mar- riage with Inibaca, the daughter of a king of JLochlin who was ancejlor to Swaran , which con- sideration, together with his being brother to jlgandecca, with whom Fingal was in love in his youth, induced the king to releafe him, and permit fiimto return, with the remains of his army, into Lochlin, upon his promife of never returning to Ireland, in a hojlile manner, 'The night is fpent in fettling Swaran* s departure, infongs of bards, and in a converfation in which thejtory of Grumal is introduced by Fingal. Morning comes. Swa- ran departs ; Fingal goes on a hunting party ^ and finding Cuchullin-in the cave ofTura, comforts him, and fets fail, the next day, for Scotland j which concludes the poem. [ 109 3 * F IN G A L, AN ANCIENT . . 1 E P I C P O E M. In SI X B O O K S. BOOK VI*. 'TT^ H E clouds of night come rolling down ^ and reft on Cromla's dark-brown fteep. The ftars of the north arife over the .rolling of th waves of Ullin ; they fhew their l^icads of fire through the flying mift of heaven. A di^ tant wind roars in the wood 3 but filent and dark is the plain of death. Still on the darkening Lena arofe in my cars the tuneful voice of Carril. He fung of the companions, of our youth, and the days of foy- ;ner years j when we met on tlie banks of Lego, This book opens with the fpurih night, and .ends on tke morning of the llxth day. The tinxe of five days, five nights, and a part of the fixth day is taken up in the poem. The fccce lies in the heath of Lena, and the mountain Cromla on ihc coaft <>f Ulrter. fio F I N G A L, Book Vi- and fent round the joy of the fhell. Cromla, with: its cloudy fteejps, anfwered to his voice^ The"ghofts of thofe he fung came in their ruft- ling blafts. They were feen to bend with joy towards the found df their praife. Be thy foul bleft, O Carril, in the niidft of thy eddying winds. O that thou would come to my hall when I am alone by night ! And thou doft come, my friend, I hear often thy light hand on my harp; when it hangs on the diftant wall, and the feeble found touches my ear. Why dofl: thou not fpeak to me in my grief, and tell when I fliall behold my friends ? But thou paffeft away in thy murmuring blafl: ; and thy wind whiftles through the gray hair of Offian. Now on the fide of Mora the heroes gathered to the feaft. A thoufand aged oaks are burning to the wind. The ftrength * of the fhells * By the ftrength of the Ihell is meant the liquor the heroes drunk : of what kind it was, cannot be afcertained at this dif- tance of time. The tranflator has met with feveral ancient poems that mention wax-lights and wine as common in the halls of Fingal. The names of both are borrowed from the Latin, which plainly fhews that our anceflors had them from the Ro- mans, if they had them at all. The Caledonians in their fre- quent incurfions to the province, might become acquainted vyith thofe conveniencies of life, and introduce them into their own country, among the booty which they carried from South Britaip. goes BookVL An epic POEM. in goes round. And the fouls of warriors brighten with joy. But the king of Lochlin is filent, and forrow reddens in the eyes of his pride. He often turned toward Lena and remembered that lie fell. FiNGAL leaned on the Ihield of his fathers. His gray locks flowly waved on the wind, and glittered to the beam of night. He faw the grief of Swaran, and fpoke to the firft of Bards; Raise, Ullin, raife the fong of peace, and footh my foul after battle, that my ear may for- get the noife of arms. And let a hundred harps be near to gladden the king of Lochlin. He muft depart from us with joy.- None ever went fad from Fingal. Ofcar ! the lightning of my fword is againft the flrong in battle ; but peaceful it lies by my fide when warriors yield in war. Trenmor *, faid the mouth of the fongs, lived in the days of other years. He bounded over the waves of the north : companion of the ftorm. The high rocks of the land of Lochlin, and its groves of murmuring founds appeared to the hero through the mift ; he bound his white- bofomed fails. -Trenmor purfued the boar * Trenmor was great grandfather to Fingal. The ftory is introduced to facilitate the difmifiion of Swaran, that 11^ F I S G A L/ BooiiVi/ that roared along the woods of Gormal. Many had fled from its prefence ; but the fpear of Trenmor flew it.- - Three chiefs, that beheld the deed, told of the mighty ftranger. They told that he flood like a pillar of fire in the bright arms of his va- lour. The king of Lochlin prepared the feafi^ and called the blooming Trenmor. Three days he feafted at Gormal's windy towers j and got his choice in the combat. Th e land of Lochlin Had no hero that yielded not to Trenmori The fliell of joy went round wkh fongs in praife of the king of Morven ; he 'that came over the waves, the firft of mighty men. Now when the fourth gray morn arofe, the ^hefro launched his fliip ; and walking along the fllent Ihore waited for the rufhing wind. For loud and dlfl^nt he heard the blaft murmuring in the grove. Covered over with arms of fteel a fon of the wOody Gormal appeared. Red was his cheek and fair his hair. His fkin like the fnow of Morven. Mild rolled his blue and fmiling eye when he fpoke to the king of fwords. Stay, Trenmor, flay thou firft of men, thou haft not conquered Lonval's fon. My fword feookVI. An EPIC POEM. 113 fword has often met the brave. And the wife -lliun the ftrength of my bow. Thou fair-haired youth, Trcnmor replied, I will not fight with Lonval's fon. Thine arm is feeble, fun-beam of beauty* Retire to Gor- mal's dark-brown hinds* But I will retire, replied the youth, with the fword of Trenmor ; and exult in the found of my fame. The virgins Ihall gather with fmiles around him who conquered Trenmor. They fhall figh with the fighs of love, and admire the length of thy fpear ; when I Ihall carry it among thoufands, and lift the glittering point to the fun* Thou Ihalt never carry my fpear, faid the angry king of Morven. Thy mother fhall find thee pale on the fhore of the echoing Gor- mal ; and, looking over the dark-blue deep, fee the fails of him that flew her fon. I WILL not lift the fpear, replied the youth, my arm is not ftrong with years. But with the feathered dart I have learned to pierce a diftant foe. Throw down that heavy mail of fteel 5 for Trenmor is covered all over. 1 firft will lay my mail on earth. ^Throw now thy dart, thou king of Morven. He faw the heaving of her breaft. It was the fifter of the king. She had feen him in the I halU 114 F I N G A L, Book VI. balls of Gormal j and loved his face of youth. The fpear dropt frorti the hand of Tren^ mor : he bent his red cheek to the ground, for he had feen her like a beam of light that meets the fons of the cave, when they revifit the fields of the fun, and bend their aching eyes. Chief of the windy Morven, begun the maid of the arms of fnow ; let me reft in thy bounding Ihip, far from the love of Corlo. For he, like the tliunder of the defart, is terrible to Inibaca. He loves me in the gloom of his pride, and fhakes ten thoufand fpears. Rest thou in peace, faid the mighty Tren- mor, behind the fhield of my fathers. I will not fly from the chief, though he fhakes ten thoufand fpears. Three days he waited on the ihore ; and fent his horn abroad. He called Corlo to battle from all his echoing hills. But Corlo came not to battle. The king of Lochlin defcended. He feafted on the roaring ihore ; and gave the maid' to Trenmor. King of Lochlin, faid Flngal, thy blood flows in the veins of thv foe. Our families met in battle, becaufe they loved the ftrife of fpears. But often did thev feaft in the hall : and fend round the joy of the ihell. Let thy face. brighten with gladnefs, and thine ear delight in the # Booit VI. Ai^ EPIC Poem. n^ the harp. Dreadful as the ftorm of thine ocean thou haft poured thy valour forth ; thy voice has been like the voice of thoufands when they engage in battle. Raife, to-morrow, thy white fails to the wind, thou brother of Agandecca,- Bright as the beam of noon fhe comes on my mournful foul. I faw thy tears for the fair one, and fpared thee in the halls of Starno ; when my fword was red with llaughtcr, and my eye fuU of tears for the maid. Or doft thou chufe the fight ? The combat which thy fathers gave to Trenmor is thine : that thou may eft depart renowned like the fun fetting in the weft. King of the race of Morvcn, faid the chief of the waves of Lochlin ; never will Swaran fight with thee, firft of a thoufand heroes! I faw thee in the halls of Starno, and few were thy years beyond my own. When fhall I, faid I to my foul, lift the fpear like the noble Fingal ? We have fought heretofore, O warrior, on the fide of the Ihaggy Malmor ; after my waves had carried me to thy halls, and the feafl; of a thoufand Ihells was fpread. Let the bards fend him who overcame to future years, for no- ble was the ftrife of heathy Malmor. But many of the fliips of l.ochlin have loft their youths on Lena. Take thefe, thou king of Morven, and be the friend of Swaran. And 1 2 wheii 116 F I N G A L, Book VI. when thy fons Ihall come to the mofTy towers of Gormal, the feaft of fbells ihall be fpread, and the combat oifered on the vale. Nor lllip, replied the 'king, Ihall FIngal take, nor land of many hills. The defart is enough to me with all its deer and woods. Rife on thy . waves again, thou noble friend of Agandecca. Spread thy white fails to the beam- of the morn- ing, and return to the echoing hills of Gormal. Blest be thy foul, thoii king of Ihells, faid Svvaran of the dark-brown Ihield. In peace thou art the gale of fpring. In war the moun- tain-ftorm. Take now my hand in friendfhip, thou noble king of Morven. Let thy bards mourn ihofe who fell. Let Erin give the fons of Lcchlin to earth ; and raife the molTy ftones of their fame. That the children of the north hereafter may behold the place where their fa- thers fought. And fome hunter may fay, when he leans on a mofTy tomb, here FIngal and Swa- ran fought, the lieroes of other years. Thus hereafter Ihall he fay, and our fame fhall lafl for ever. Swaran, faid the king of the hills, to-day our fame Is greateii. We ihall pafs away like a dream. No found will be In the fields of our battles. Our tomhs will be loft in the heath. 'i1ic hunter Ihall not know the place of our^reft. Our Book VI. An EPIC POEM. 117 Our names may be heard in fong, but the flrength of our arms will ceafe. O Oflian, Car- ri], and Ullin, you know of heroes that are no more. Give us the fong of other years. Let the night pafs away on the found, and morning return with joy. We gave the fong to the kings, and a hun- dred harps accompanied our voice. The face of Swaran brightened like the full moon of heaven, when the clouds vanifh away, and leave her calm and broad in the midft of the fkv. It was then that Fingal fpoke to Carrll the chief of other times. Where is the fon of Semo ; the king of the ille of mift ? has he retired, like the meteor of death, to the dreary cave of Tura? CucH ULLIN, faid Carril of other times, lies In the dreary cave of Tura. His hand is on the fword of his ftrength. His thouglus on the bat- tle which he loft. Mournful is the king ot fpears ; for he has often been vi(?lorious. He fends the fword of his war to reft on the fide of Fingal. For, like the ftorm of the defart, thou haft fcattered all his foes. Take, O Fingal, the fword of the hero ; for his fame is departed like mift when it flies before the ruftling wind of the vale. No : replied the king, Fingal fliall never take his fword. His arm is mighty in war \ and tell 1 3 \\\)x\ Ii8 F I N G A U Book VI. him his fame fhall never fail. Many have been overcome in battle, that have fhone afterwards like the. fun of heaven. O SwAjiAN, king of the refounding woods, give all thy grief away.^ The vanquilhea, if .brave, are renowned j they are like the fun in a cloud when he hides his face in the fouth, but Jooks again on the hills of grafs. Grumal was a chief of Cona. He fought the battle on every coaft. His foul rejoic d in blood 5 his ear in the din of arms. He poured his warriors on the founding Craca ; and Craca's king met him from his grove j for then within the circle of Brumo * he fpoke to the ftone of power. Fierce was the battle of the heroes, for the jnaid of the breafl. of fnow. The fame of the daughter of Craca had reached Grumal at the flrcams of Cona ; he vowed to have the white- bofomed maid, or die on the echoing Craca. Three days they ftrove together, and Grumal on the fourth was bound. Far from his friends they placed him in the horrid cij^cle of Brumo ; where often, they faid, the ghofts of the dead howled round the ftone of * This paffage alludes to the re'igion of the king of Craca. ggg a note on a fimilar fubjedl in the third book. their Book VJ. An EPIC POEM. 119 their fear. But afterwards he fhone like a pillar of the light of heaven. They fell by his mighty- hand, and Grumal had his fame. Raise, ye bards of other times, raife high the praife of heroes j that my foul may fettle on their fame -, and the mind of Swaran ceafe to be fad. They lay in the heath of Mora ; the dark winds ruftled over the heroes. A hundred voices at once arofe, a hundred harps were ftrung ; they fung of other times, and the mighty chiefs of former years. When now Ihall I hear the bardj or rejoice at the fame of my fathers ? The harp is not ftrung on Morven ; nor tlie voice of muiic raifcd on Cona. Dead with the mighty is the bard j and fame is in the defart no more. Morning trembles with the beam of the eaft, and glimmers on gray-headed Cromla. Over Lena is heard the horn of Swaran, and the fons of the ocean gather around. Silent and fad they mount the wave, and the blaft of Ullia is behind their fails. White, as the mift of Morven, they float along the fca. Call, faid Fingal, call my dogs, the long- bounding fons of the chace. Call white-brcaftcd Bran j and the furly ftrength of Luath. Fillan, and Ryno but he is not here j my fon 1 4 refls 120 F I N G A L, Book VL refts on the bed of death. Fillan and Fergus, blow my horn, that the joy of the chace may arife j that the deer of Cromla may hear and ftart at the lake of roes. The fhrill found fpreads along the wood. The fons of heathy Cromla arife. A thoufand dogs fly oif at once, gi-ay-bounding through the heath. A deer fell by every dog, and three by the white-breafted Bran. He brought them, in their flight, to Fingal, that the joy of the king might be great. One deer fell at the tomb of Ryno ; and the grief of Fingal returned. He faw how peaceful lay the ftone of him who was the firft at the chace. No more fhalt thou rife, O my fon, to partake of the feaft of Cromla. Soon will thy tomb be hid, and the grafs grow rank on thy grave. The fons of the feeble fhall pafs over it, and fnall not know that the mighty lie there. Ossi AN and Fillan, fens of my flrength, and Gaul king of the blue fwords of war, let us afcend the hill to the cave of Tura, and find the chief of the battles of Erin.- -Are thefe the walls of Tura ? gray and lonely they rife on the heath. The king of Ihells is fad, and the halls are de- folate. Come let us find the king of fwords, and give him all our joy. --But is that Cu- chullin. Book VI. An E P I C P O E M. 121 GKuUin, O Fillan, or a pillar of fmoke on the heath ? The wind of Cromla is on my eyes, and. I diftinguilh not my friend. FiNGAL ! replied the youth, it is the fon of Semo. Gloomy and fad is the hero ; his hand is on his fvvord. Hail to the fon of battle, breaker of the lliields ! Hail to thee, replied CuchuUin, hail to all the fons of Morven. Delightful is thy prefence, O Fingal, it is like the fun on Cromla ; when the hunter mourns his abfence for a feafpn, and fees him between the clouds. Thy fons are like flars that attend thy courfe, and give light in the night. It is not thus thou haft feen me, O Fingal, returning from the wars of the dcfart; when the kings of the world * had fled, and joy returned to the hill of hinds. Many are thy words, CuchuUin, faid Con- nan "f- of fmall renown. Ihy words are many, fon of Semo, but where are thy deeds in arms ? Why did we come over the ocean to aid thy * This is the only pnfiljge in the poem, wherein the wars of Fingal ar^ainrt: rhe Romr.n.i arc alluded to : -The Roman em- peror is diltinguifhed in old compoiitions by the title of /tj'fg if the nvcr!J. t Connan was of the family of iVIorni. He is mentioned in fe- veral other poems, and always appears with the fame charaler. The poet pafTed him over in filence till now, and his behaviour here dclcrves no better iifyge. 7 feeble 122 F I N G A L, Book VI. fcelle fword ? Thou flyeft to thy cave of for- ' row, and Connan fights thy battles ; Refign to me thefe arms of light ; yield them, thou fon of Erin. No hero, replied -the chief, ever fought the arms of CuchuUin ; and had a thoufand heroes fought them it were in vain, thou gloomy youth. I fled not to the cave of forrow, as long as Erin's warriors lived. Youth of the feeble arm, faid Fingal, Con- nan, fay no more. CuchuUin is renowned in battle, and terrible over the defart. Often have I heard thy fame, thou ftormy chief of Innis- fail. Spread now thy v/hite fails for the ifle of mift, and fee Bragela leaning on her rock. Her tender eye is in tears, and the winds lift her long hair from her heaving breaft. She liftens to tlie winds of night to hear the voice of thy rowers * ; to hear the fong of the fea, and the found of thy diftant harp. And long Ihall Ihe liften in vain ; CuchuUin fhall never return. How can I behold Bragela to raife the figh of her breaft ? Fingal, I was always victorious in the battles of other fpears ! The pradllce of finging when they row is univerfal among the inhabitants of the north-weil coaft of Scotland and the ifles. It deceives time, and inCpirits the rowers. And Book VI. An EPIC POEM. 123 And hereafter thou ihalt be vidorious, faid Fin gal king of Iheils. The fame of Cuchullin fhall grow like the branchy tree of Cronila. Many battles await thee, O chief, and many fhall be the wounds of thy hand. Bring hither, Ofcar, the deer, and prepare the feaft of fhells 5 that our fouls may rejoice after danger, and our friends delight in our prefence. We fat, we feafted, and we fung. The ibul of Cuchullin rofe. The ftrength of his arm re- ' turned J and gladnefs brightened on his face.* Ullin gave the fong, and Carril raifed the voice. I, often, joined the bards, and fung of battles of the fpear. ^Battles ! where I often fought ; but now I fight no more. The fame of my for- mer actions is ceafed ; and 1 fit forlorn at the tombs of my friends. Thus they paffed the night in the fong ; and brought back the morning with joy. Fingal arofe on the heath, and Ihook his glittering fpcar in his hand. He moved firft toward the plains of Lena, and we followed like a ridge of fire. Spread the fail, faid the king of Morven, and catch the winds that pour from Lena. We rofe on the wave with fongs, and rullied, with joy, through the foam of the ocean *. * It is allowed by the befl critics that an epic poem ought to end happily. This rule, in its moll mateiial circumflances, is oblerved 124 F I N G A L. Book VI. obferved by the three moft defcrvcdiy celebrated poets. Homer, Virgil, and Milton ; yet, I know not how it happens, the con- clufions of their poems throw a melancholy damp on the mind. One leaves his reader at a funeral; another at the untimely death of a hero j and the third in the folitary fcenes of an unpeopled world. {Such honours Hion to her hero paid, And peaceful flept the mighty Hedor's fhade, Ferrum adverfo fuh ptSlere condit Fewidus. Aft illi folvuntur frigore memhrOt Vitaque cum gemitufugit indignata fuh umbras. Homer* Pope. Virgil. He rais'd his arm aloft^ and at the word Deep in his bofom drove the fhining fword. The ftreaming blood diftain'd his arms around. And the difdainful foul came rulhing thro* the wound. Drydem. They, hand in hand, with wand'ring fteps and flow. Through Eden took their folitary way. Milton. C O M A L A: t t25 j C O M A L A: A DRAMATIC POEM* The PERSONS. FiNGAL. Melilcoma, ^dauffhters HiDALLAN. Dersagrena, Jo^Momi. CoMALA. Bards. Dersagrena* 'T^ H E chace is over. No noife on Ardven -" but the torrent's roar ! Daughter of Morni, come from Crona's banks. Lay down the bow and take the harp. Let the night come on with fongs, and our joy be great on Ardven. Melilcoma. This poem is valuable on account of the light it throws on the antiquity of Offian's compofitions. The Caracul mentioned here is the fame with Caracalla the fon of Severus, who in the year 211 commanded an expedition againft the Caledonians. The variety of the meafure (hews that the poem was originally fet to muficj 126 C O M A L A: Melilcoma *. And night comes on, thoii blue-eyed maid, gray night grows dim along the plain. I faw a deer at Crona's ftream ; a moffy bank he feemed through the gloom, but foon he bounded away. A meteor played round his branchy horns ; and the awful faces f of other times looked from the clouds of Crona. muflc, and perhaps prefehted before the chiefs upon folemn oc- cafions. Tradition has handed down the ftory more complete than it is in the poem. " Comala, the daughter of Samo king of Injftore or Orkney iflands, fell in love with Fingal the fon of OMTvhal at a feaft, to which her father had invited him, [Fingal, B. III.] upon his return from Lochlin, after the death of Agan- decca. Her paffion was fo violent, that fhe followed him, dif- guifed like a youth, who wanted to be employed in his wars. She was foon difcovered by Hidallan the fon of Lamor, one of Fingal's heroes, whofe love fhe had flighted fome time before Her romantic paffiort and beauty recommended her fo much to the king, that he had refolved to make her his wife ; when news was brought him of Caracul's expedition. He marched to ftdp the progrefs of the enemy, and Comala attended him. He left her on a hill, within fight of Caracul's army, when he him- felf went to battle, having previoufly promifed, if he furvived, to- return that night." The fequel of the ftory may be gathered from the poem itfelf. * Melilcoma,, /o/i-ro//ifig eye, \ Apparent dira faciesy inimicaque Tiojig Kuwina magna deum. VtRC. dreadful founds I hear. And the dire forms of hoflile gods appear. . Drydek. Dersagrena. A DRAMATIC I'OEM. 127 Dersagrena*. These are the figns- of Fingal's death. The king of fhields is fallen ! and Caracul prevails. Rife, Comala 'f> from thy rocks; daughter of Sarno, rife in tears. The youth of thy love is low, and his ghoft is already on our hills. Melilcoma. There Comala fits forlorn ! two gray dogs near Ihake their rough ears, and catch the fly-; ing breeze. Her red cheek refts on her arm, and the mountain wind is in her hair. She turns her blue-rolling eyes towards the fields of his promife. Where art thou, O Fingal, for the night is gathering around ? Comala, O Carun t of the ftreams ! why do I behold thy waters rolling in blood ? Has the noife of the * Derfagrena, the brJghtne/s of a fun-heam. f Comala, the maid of tht pleafant broiu. , X Carun or Cara'on, a nuindtng riu^r. This river retains Hill the name of Carron, and falls into the Forth fome miles to the Nortk of Falkirk. Gentefque alias cum pelleret arm'is Sedibtiif aut 'viitas vilem fervaret in ufum I Strvitii, tiB C O M A L A:, the battle been heard on thy banks 5 and fleeps the king of Morvcn? Rife, moon, thou daughter of the fky 1 look from between thy clouds, that I may behold the light of his fteel, oh the field of his promife. Or rather let the meteof, that lights Our departed fathers through the night, come, with its red light, to Ihew me the way to my fallen hero. Who will defend me from forrow ? Who from the love of Hidallan ? Long Ihall Comala look before ilie can behold Fingal in the midft of his hoft ; bright a$ the 'beam of the morning in the cloud of an early ihower. Hidallan *. Roll, thou mift of gloomy Crona, roll on th6' path of the hunter. Hide his i^eps frorh mine eyes, and let me remember my friend no more. The bands of battle are fcattered, and Ser^vifii, hie cofitenta fuos defender e fines Rcmajlcurigeris prttendit mania Scotis : Hic/pe prcgrejjus pofeta, Caronis ad undant ^ erminui Aujonii Jignat di'vortia regni, Buchanan. f Hidallan was fent by Fingal to give notice to Comala of his return ; he^ to revenge himfelf on her for flighting his love fome time before, told her that the king was killed in battle. He even pretended that he carried his body from the field to be buried in her prefence ; and this circuraflance makes it probable that the poem was prefented of old. no A DRAMATIC POEM. 129 ho crowding fteps are round the noife of his Heel. O Carun, roll thy ftreams of blood, fot the chief of the people fell. CoMALAi ( ^ Who fell oil Carun's grafly banks, fon of the cloudy night ? Was he white as the fnow of Ardven ? Blooming as the bow of the fliower ? Was his hair like the mift of the hill, foft and curling in the day of the fun ? Was he like the thunder of heaven in battle ? Fleet as the roe of the defart ? HiDALLAN. O THAT I might behold his love^ fair-leaning from her rock ! Her red eye dim in tears, and her blufhing cheek half hid in her locks 1 Blow, . thou gentle breeze, and lift the heavy locks of the maid, that I may behold her white arm, and lovely cheek of her fbrrow ! COMALA* And is the fon of Comhal fallen, chief of the mournful tale ? The thunder rolls ^on the hill '. The lightening flics on wings of fire ! But they frighten not Comala ; for her Fingal fell. Say, chief of the mournful tale, fell the breaker of ihiclds ? K HidallaK, igo C O M A L A: HiDALLAN. The nations are fcattered on their hills ; for they fhall hear the voice of the chief no more. COMALA. Confusion purfue thee over thy plains ; and deftru(^ion overtake thee, thou king of the world. Few be thy fteps to thy grave -, and let one virgin mourn thee. Let her be, like Co- mala, tearful in the days of her youth. Why haft thou told me, Hidallan, that my hero fell ? 1 might have hoped a little while his return, and have thought I faw him on the diftant rock ; a tree might have deceived me with his appear- ance ; and the wind of the hill been the found of his horn in mine ear. O that I were on the banks of Carun ! that my tears might be warm on his cheek ! Hidallan. He lies not on the banks of Carun : on Ard- ven heroes raife his tomb. Look on them, O moon, from thy clouds ; be thy beam bright on his breaft, that Comala may behold him in the light of his armour. CoMALA. Stop, ye fons of the grave, till I behold my love. He left me at the chace alone. 1 knew not A DRAMATIC POEM. tgi not that he went to war. He fald he would re- turn with the night ; and the kiiig of Morven is returned. Why didft thou not tell me that he would fall, O trembling fon of the rock * ! Thou haft feen him in the blood of his youth, but thou didft not tell Comala ! Melilcoma* What ^ound is that on Ardven ? Who is that bright in the vale ? Who comes like the ftrength of rivers, when their crowded waters glitter to the moon ? Comala* Who is it but the foe of Comak, the foh of the king of the world ! Ghoft of FIngal ! do thou, from thy cloud, direft Comala's bow* Let him fall like the hart of the defart. ^It is Fingal In the crowd of his ghofts. Why doft thou come, my love, to frighten and pleafe my fxDul ? JFingaL. Raise, ye bards of the fong, the war*; of the ftreanly Carun. Caracul has fled from my arms By the fon of the rock (he means a drui'd. It is probable that fome of the order of the druids remained as late as tlie begin- ning of the reign of Fingal ; and that Comala had confulted on of them concerning the event of the war with Caracul. K 2 along r^2 COM A VL A : along the fields of his pride. He fets far diftant like a meteor that inclofes a fpirit of night, when the winds drive it bver the heath, and the dark woods are gleaming around. "^ I HEARD a voice like tlte breeze of my hills. Is it the huntrefs t)f Galmal, the white-handed daughter of Sarno ? Look from thy rocks *, my love i and let me hear the voice of Comala. COMALA. Take me to the cave of thy reft, O lovely fon of death ! FiNGAL. Come to the cave of my reft. ^The ftorm is over "f, and the fun is on our fields. Come to the cave of my reft, huntrefs of echoing Cona. CoMALA. He is returned with his fame ; I feel th? right liand of his battles. But I muft reft befide the rock till my foul fettle from fear. -Let the harp * O my dove t'ai art in the clefts of the rock, in the fecret flaies of tiic flairs, let me fee thy countenance, let me hear thy voice. Solomon's Song. t The winter is paft, the rain is over and gone. Solomon's Song. O be A DRAMATIC POEM, i^^ be near; and raife the fong, ye daughters of Morni. Dersagrena. CoMALA has flain three deer on Ardven, and the fire afcends on the rock ; go to the feaft of Comala, king of the woody Morven ! FiNGAL, Raise, ye fons of fong, the wars of the ftreamy Carun; that my white-handed maid may rejoice : while I behold the feaft of my love. Bards. Roll, ftreamy Carun, roll in joy, the fons of battle fled. The fteed is not feen on our fields ; and the wings * of their pride fpread in other lands. The fun will now rife in peace, and the Ihadows defcend in joy. 1 he voice of the chace will be heard ; and the fhields hang in the hall. Our delight will be in the war of the ocean, and our hands be red in the blood of Lochlin. Roll, ftreamy Carun, roll in joy, the fons of battle fled. Melilcqma. Descexd, ye liglit mifts from high; ye moon-beams, lift her foul. Pale lies the maid at the rock ! Comala is no more ! Perhaps thpoet alludes to the Roman eagle. K 3 Fingal* $34 C O M A X Af FjNGAL. Is the daughter of Sarno c^eadj the whiter l)ofonied maid of my love ? Meet me, Comala, qn my heaths, when I lit alone at the ftreams of tny hills. H1DALL4N. Ceased the voice of the huntrefs of Galm^l ? Why did I trouble the foul of the maid ? When ihall I fee thee, with joy, in the chace of the d^rk-brown hinds ? FiNGAL. Youth of the gloomy brow ! no more Ihalt thou feaft in my halls. Thou Ihalt not purfue my chace, and my foes Ihall not fall by thy fword *. Lead me to the place of her reft that I may behold her beauty. Pale Ihe lies at the rock, and the cold winds lift her hair. Her bow-ftring founds in the blaft, and her ar- row was broken in her fall. Raife the praife of the daughter of Sarno, and give her name to the wind of the hills. Bards, See ! meteors roll around the maid 3 and moon-beams lift her foul ! Around her, from Thp fequel of the ftory of Hidal!an v. introduced, as an epi- fode, in the poem which immediately follows io this colleftion. their A DRAMATIC POEM. 13$ their clouds, bend the awful faces of her fathers ; Sarno * of the gloomy brow ; and the red-roll- ing eyes of Fidallan. When Ihall thy white- hand arife, and thy voice be heard on our rocks ? The maids Ihall feek thee on the heath, but they will not find thee. Thou fhalt come, at times, to their dreams, and fettle peace in their foul. Thy voice Ihall remain in their earsf, and they fhall think with joy on the dreams of their reft. Meteors roll around the maid, and moon-beams lift her foul ! Sarno the father of Comala died foon after the flight of his daughter. Fidallan was the Hrfl king that reigned in IniJftore. t The angel e:nded, and in Adam*S ear So charming left his voice, that he a while Thought him ftill fpeaking, ftill flood fix'd to hear. M11.TON. K4 THE [ 136 ] THE > WAR of GAROS*:- A P O E M. BRING, daughter of Tofcar, bring tlic harp ; the light of the fong rifes in Offian's foul. It is like the field, when darknefs covers the hills around, and the fliadow growls flowly on the plain of the fun. I BEHOLD my fon, OMalvina, near themofly rock of Crona f ^ but it is the mift t of the de- * Caros is probably the noted ufurper Caraufius, by birth a Menapiau, who afTumed the purple in the year 284 ; and, feizing on Britain, defeated the emperor Maximian Herculius ia feveral naval engagements, which gives propriety to his being called in this poem t/je king cf /hips. He repaired Agricola's wall, in order to obdrucft the incurfions of the Caledonians ; and when he was employed in that woilc, it appears he was attacked by a party under the command of Ofcar the fon of Offian, This batde is the foundation of the prefent poem, which is addreiTed to \ alvina the daughter of Tofcar. t Crona is the name of a fmall ftream which runs into the Carron. On its banks is the fcene of the preceding dramatic poem. X Who is this that comcth out of the wildernefs like pillars of fmoke. Solomon's Song. fart I3T A P O E M. fart tinged with the beam of the weft : Lovely is the mift that alTumes the form of Ofcar ! turn, from it, ye winds, when ye roar on the lide of Ardven. Who comes towards my fon, with the mur- mur of a fong ? His ftaif is in his hand, his gray hair loofe on the wind. Surly joy lightens his face ; and he often looks back to Caros. It is Ryno * of the fong, he that went to view the foe. What does Caros king of fhips, faid the fon of the now mournful Offian ? fprcads he tho wings 'f of his pride, bard of the times of old ? He fpreads them, Ofcar, replied the bard, but it is behind his gathered heap j. He looks over his ftones with fear, and beholds thee terri- ble, as the ghoft of night that rolls the wave to his Ihips. Go, thou firft of my bards, fays Ofcar, and take the fpear of Fingal. Fix a flame on its point, and fhake it to the winds of heaven. Bid him, in fongs, to advance, and leave the roll- ing of his wave. Tell to Caros that I long for * Ryno is often mentioned in the ancient poetry. He feems to have been a bard, of the firft rank, in the days of Fingal. f- The Roman eagle, :|: Agricola's wall which Caraufius repaired. battle ; 138 The WAR of CARDS: battle ; and that my bow is weary of the chacc of Cona. I'ell him the mighty are not here^ and that my arm is young. He went with the found of his fong. Ofcar reared his voice on high. It reached his heroes on Ardven, like the noife of a cave * j when the fea of Togorma rolls before it ; and its trees meet the roaring winds. They gather round my fon like the ftreams of the hill ; when, after rain, they roll in the pride of their courfe. Ryno came to the mighty Caros, and ftruck his flaming fpear. Come to the battle of Ofcar, O thou that fitteft on the rolling of waters. Fingal is diftant far j he hears the fongs of his bards in Morven : and the wind of his hall is in his hair. His terrible fpear is at his fide ; and his fhield that is like that darkened moon. Come to the battle of Ofcar ; the hero is alone. He came not over the ilreamy Carun f -, the bard returned with his fong. Gray night grows dim on Crona. The feaft of Ihells is fpread. A hundred oaks burn to the wind, and faint light gleams over the heath. The ghofts of Ardven pafs through the beam, and Ihew their ' As when the hollow rocks retain The found of bluftering winds. Milton* \ The river Carron. dim A POEM, 139 jfllm and diftant forms. Comala * is half-vinfeea on her meteor ; and Hidallan is fullen and dint, like the darkened moon behind the mift of night. Why art thou fad ? faid Ryno ; for he alone , fceheld the chief. Why art thou fad, Hidallan, haft thou not received thy fame ? The fongs of Oilian have been heard, and thy ghoft has brightened in the wind, when thou didft bend from thy cloud to hear the fong of Morven*s bard. And do thine eyes behold the hero, faid Of- car, like the dim meteor of night ? Say, Ryno, fay, how fell the chief that was fo renowned in the days of our fathers ? His name remains on the rocks of Cona i and I have often feen the llreams of his hills. FiNGAL, replied the bard, had driven Hi- dallan from his wars. The king's foul was fad for Comala, and his eyes could not behold Hi- dallan. Lonely, fad, along the heath, he flowly moved witli filent fteps. His arms hang difor- dcred on his fide. His hair flies loofe from his * This is the fcene of Comala*s death, which is the fub'o^t c( the dramatic poem, The poet mentions her in this plac , :n order to introduce the fcquel of Hidallan's ftory, who, on account of her death, had been expelled from the wars of Fingal. helmet 149 The WAR of CAROS: helmet. The tear is in his down-caft ey-es j and the figh half-filent in his breaft. Three days he ftrayed unfeen, alone, before he came to Lamor's halls : the molTy halls of his fathers, at the ftream of Balva *. There Lamor fat alone beneath a tree ; for he had fent his people with Hidallan to war. The ftreara ran at his feet, and his gray head refted on hiSi ftaff. Sightlefs are his aged eyes. He hum5| the fong of other times. The noife of HidaU lan's feet came to his ear : he knew the tread of his fon. Is tlie. fon of Lamor returned ; or is it the; found of his ghoft? Haft thou fallen on the banks of Carun, fon of the aged Lamor ? Or, if I hear the found of Hidallan's feet ; where are the mighty in war ? where are my people, Hi' dallan, that were wont to return with their echoing lliields ? Have they fallen on the banks of Carun ? No : replied the fighing youth, the people pf Lamor live. They are renowned in battle, my father ; but Hidallan is renowned no more, I muft fit alone on the banks of Balva, when the roar of the battle grows. * This is perhaps that fmall ftream, flill retaining the name cf Balva, which runs through the romantic valley of Glentivar in Stirlincfliii-e. Ualva figuilics ^.f/c;;/" /n-^s;^; and Glentivar, thgjx^w'i red njale. But A POEM. i4t ^UT thy fathers never fat alone, replied the rifing pride of Lamor ; they never fat alone on the banks of Balva, when the roar of battle rofe. Doft thou not behold that tomb? Mine eyes difcern it not : there refts the noble Gar- mallon who never fled from war. Gome, thou renowned in battle, he fays, come to thy fa- ther's tomb. How am I renowned, Gar- mallon , for my fon has fled from war ? King of the ftreamy Balva ! faid Hidallan with a figh, why doft thou torment my foul ? I^amor, I never feared. Fingal was fad for Comala, and denied his wars to Hidallan : Go to the gray ftreams of thy land, he faid, and moulder like a leaflefs oak, which the winds have bent over Balva, never more to grow. And muft I hear, Lamor replied, the lonely tread of Hidallan's feet ? When thoufands are re- nowned in battle, Ihall he bend over my gray ftreams ? Spirit of the noble Garmallon ! carry Lamor to his place ; his eyes are dark; his foul is fad : and his fon has loft his fame. Where, faid the youth, fliall I fearch for fame to gladden the foul of Lamor ? From whence Ihall I return with renown, that the found of my arms may be plcafant in his ear ? If I go to the Qhacc of hinds, my niame will not be heard.- Lamor will not feel my dogs, with J42 The WAR of CAROS: with his hands, glad at my arrival from the hill. He will not enquire of his mountains, or of the dark-brown deer of his defarts. I MUST fall, faid Lamor, like a leaflefs oak J It grew on a rock, but the winds have overturned it. My ghoft will be feen on my hills, mournful for my young Hidallan^ Will not ye, ye mifts, as ye rife, hide him from my fight ? My fon ! go to Lamor's hall : there the arms of our fathers hang. Bring the fword of Garmallon ; he took it from a foe. He went and brought the fword with all its fludded thongs. He gave it to his father* The gray -haired hero felt the point with his liand. My fon ! lead me to Garmallon's tomb : it rifes befide that ruftling tree. The long grafs is withered ; 1 heard the breeze whiftling there* A little fountain murmurs near, and fends its water to Balva. There let me reft ; it is noon i and the fun is on our fields. He led him to Garmallon's tomb. Lamor pierced the fide of his fon. They fleep toge- ther ; and their ancient halls moulder on Balva's banks. Ghofls are feen there at noon : the valley is filent, and the people Ihun the place of Lamor. * Mournful A FORM. 143 Mournful is tKy tale, faid Ofcar, fon of jhe times of old ! My foul fighs for Hidallan ; he fell in the days of his youth. He flies on the blaft of the defart, and his wandering is in a fo" reign land. Sons of the echoing Morvent draw near to the foes of Fingal. Send the night away in fpngs ; and watch the ftrength of Caros. Ofcar goes to the people of other times ; to the fhades of lilent Ardven ; where his fathers fit dim in their clouds, and behold the future war. And art thou there, Hidallan, like a half-extinguilhed meteor ? Come to my fight, in thy forrow, chief of the roaring Balva 1 The heroes move with their fbngs. Ofcar flowly afcends the hill. The meteors of night are fetting on the heath before him. A diftant torrent faintly roars. -Ui) frequent blafts ruih through aged oaks. The half-enlightened moon fmks dim and red beliind her hill. Feeble voices are heard on the heath. Ofcar drew his fword. Come, faid the hero, O ye ghofts of my fa- thers ! ye that fought againfl: the kings of the world ! -Tell me the deeds of future times j and your difcourfe in your caves ; when you talk together and behold your fons in tlie fields of the valiant. Trenmor 1^4 The "WAR of (!:Al^bS: io i^ I .": ' ' ' >'' ' .y'- 1 -"; ?' .. .. ?''"'' Trenmor cam^, froni bis Kill, at the voic0 bf'liis mighty foht ^A cloud, UjLe the fteed of :;fIJ .T, ..' . .' ' '- . .' > - (I " ". ': 'J.'l tne ftranger, fupported .his airy climbs. Mis robe is of the mift of Lano, that brings death iq the people. His fwor.d is a meteor half-extln- tinguiHicd. , His lacp 1 w.itho.u^ .form, and; dark. He fighed. thrice oyer' the hero: and thrice the winds of the nierht roared, around. V)Lk ' : J ^J ; <;:;;!: V;;.::- fn .::{.. :.. ... '< . ' /"S Many were his words, to Ofcar : but they only pameby halves to, our ears.: they w^r^ dark as the tales of otHer times, befo^cthe light ,o|| the fong arofe. He llowly vanilhied^ lil^e a mift that melts on the funnviiill. , . . It was then, O daughter of ToTcar, my fon begun firft to be fad. He forefaw the fall of his race;' and, at times, he was thoughtful and dark ; like the fun * when he carries a cloud on his face ; but he looks afterwards on the hills of Cona. Oscar paiTed the night among his fathers, gray morning met him on the banks of Carun. A GREEN vale furrounded a tomb which arofe in the times of old. Little hills lift their head at a dlftance ; and ftretch their old trees to the wind. The Warriors of Caros fat there, for 'Cnput f. hfcura nit'dumferruglnc icx'tt. Vi R G . they A fr O M. 145 tlity hid pafibd the flr^ani by night. They ap- peired, likfe tht trunks of aged pines, to tht pale light of the ttiorning. Oscar fiood at the tomb, and raifed thrice his terrible voice. The rocking hills echoed around : the ftartlng rbes bounded away. And the trembling ghofts of the dead fled, fhrieking on their clouds. So terrible was the voice of my fon, when he called his friends. A THOUSAND fpears rofe around; the people of Caros rofe. Why daughter of Tofcar, whjf that tear ? My fon, though alone, is brave. Ofcar is like a beam of the iky -, he turns around and the people fall. His hand is like the arm of a ghoft, when he firetCihes it from a cioud : the reft of his thin form is unfeen : but the people die in the vale. My fon beheld the approach of the foe j and he flood in the filent darknefs of his ftTength. " Am I alone, faid Oicar, in the midft of a thoufand foes ?- Many a fpear is there ! many a darkly-rolling eye ! Shall I fly to Ardven ? But did my fathers ever fly ! The mark of their arm is in a thoufand battles. Oicar too will be renowned .--^ Come, ye dim ghofls of my fathers, and behold ray deeds L In .146 The fW A R . of C A R O S : J^i, waij!"^ I may fallj but I will be renowned iil^e the race.of the echoing Morven *.'* K^te^,, He Itood dilated in his place, like a flood fvvelling in a narrow vale. The battle came, but jthey fell : bloody was the fword of Ofcar. Jihe noife reached his people at Crona j they came like a hundred ftreams. The warriors of Caros fled, and Ofcar remained like a rock left by the ebbing fea. . Now dark and deep, with all his fteeds^ Caros rt)lled his might along : the little ftreams are foft in his courfc; and the earth is rocking rb'iind. Battle fpreads from wing to wing : ttri thoufand fwords gleam at once in the Iky. ^^ But why fliould Oflian fing of battles ? For iiever more fliall my fteel fliine in war. I re- member the days of my youth with forrow 5 * This pafTage is very like the foliloquy of UlyiTes upon a Itniilar occafion. .ili^". ' Sltf/.cf lyu, ri aecQu i f^tyx (Ay xotxov, omct (piSufjLaiif \ ^I^r,6v> Taj's >,c-j* TO ^i ^lytcv atxtf ci?\Ou> Mavo5* cVc. HoM. II. It. '- 'Wlmt farther fubtcrfuge, what hopes remain? o: AYhat({hame, inglorious if I quit the plain ? "VVhatdanger, fingly if I Hand the ground. My friends all fcatter'd, all the foes around ? C- . Yet wherefore doubtful ? let this truth fuffice ; 'J he brave meets danger, and the coward flies : To die or conquer proves a hero's heart, ' -"- -And knowing thi?,*- 1 know a foldfer's part. ai ^I - Pope. when A POEM. 1^7 when I feel the weaknefs of my arm. Happy are they who fell in their youth, in the midft of their renown \ They have not beheld the tombs of their friends : or failed to bend the bow of their ftrength.* Happy art thou, O Ofcar, in the midft of thy rufhing blaft. Thou often goeft to the fields of thy fame, where Caros fled from thy lifted fword. ," Darkness comes on my foul, O fair daugh- ter of Tofcar, I behold not the form of my fon at Carun ; nor the figure of Ofcar on Crona. The ruftling winds have carried him far away!^ and the heart of his father is fad. , , ^. r ; . But lead me, OMalvina, to the found of my woods, and the roar of my mountain ftreams. Let the chace be heard on Cona ; that I may think on the days of other years. And brin^ me the harp, O maid, that I may touch it when the light of- my foul fhall arife. Be thou near, to learn the fong ; and future times Ihall hear of Olfian. The fons of the feeble hereafter will lift the voice on Cona; and, looking up,,to the rocks, fay, " Here Offian dwelt." lliey fhall admire the chiefs of old, and the race that, are no more : while we ride on our clouds, Malvina, on the wings of the roaring winds. Our voices flial I be heard, at times, in the defart ; and we fhall fing on the winds of the rock. T. z THE t 148 3 THE WAR of INIS-THONA* A POEM. OUR ybUth is like the dteam of thte huhttr on th6 hill of heath. He fleejis Ih the mild beams of the fun but he awakes ainidft a ftorm ; th^ rdd Ughtniiig ftiei around : ai-td the 'trees fhake their heads t6 thi^ wind. He looks hack with joy on the day of thcftrtt, -ahd thfe pleafaiit dreams of his rdft I When ih^W Offiati's ybiTt?i rdtui-n, or his 6^ir delight in the fdund of arrils ? When fhall I, like Ofcar, travel f m th6 li^ft oJF my ^Bel ?''^^ ItJis-thcna, i. t. ihe 'Jl nd of ivaves, was a country of Scan- dinavia fubjed to Its Own king, but Seperidihg upon the'kfn^doTn of Lochlin. ^T'his Voem is ah epifbtle introduced Jn a great work, compofed bjr GfTian^ in which thea;.rions of his friends, and his beloved fon OJcar. were ir^rerwoven. The work it- felf is ioft, but fonre epif^des, an^'the fiory of thepoeiti, are handed dovvn by tradifion., Thiire are Tome now living, \v1io, in iheir youth, have heard the whole rejieated. t Travelling in the grea'tnefs or Ki^IfrVngth^ '^- Isaiah Ixiii. 1. OO'! -y.W Come, A P Q E M. 14^ Come, with your ftreams, ye hills of Cona, and liften to the voice of Offian ! The fpng rjfes, like the fun, in my foul ; an4 my heart . feel^ %)^ joys of other times. I BEHOLD my towers, O Selma ! and th^ oaks of thy Ihaded wall : thy ftreams found iq my ear j thy heroes gather round. Fingal fit^ in the midft ; and leans on the ihield of Tren- mor : his fpear ftands againft the wall j he liftens to the fong of his bards. The deeds of h;s arm are heard ; and the actions of the king ih his youth. Oscar had returned from the chace, and heard the hero's praife.- -He took the Ihield of Branno * from the wall ; his eyes were filled with tears. Red was the pheek of youth. His voice was trembling, low. My fpear fhook it? bright head in his hand : he fpoke to Morvcn'j king. Fingal! thou king of heroes ! Offian, next to him in war ! ye have fought the battle in your youth J your names are renowned in fong. ^--Ofcar is like the mift of Cona : I appear and vaniih. ^The bard will not know my name. t This is Branno, the father of Everallin, and grandfather to Ofcar ; he was of Irifh extradion and lord of th? country round the lake of Lego. His great aftions are handed down by tradi- tion, and his hofpitality has pafTcd into a proverb. h 2 The 15 The WAR of INIS-THONA: The hunter will not fearch in the heath for my tomb. Let me fight, O heroes, in the battles of Inis-thona. Diftant is the land of my war ! ' ye Ihall not hear of Ofcar's fall. Some bard may find me there, and give my name to the fong. The daughter of the ftranger Ihall fee my tomb, and weep over the youth that came from afar. The bard Ihall fay, at the feaft, hear the fong of Ofcar from the diftant land. Oscar, replied the king of Morven; thou ihalt fight, fon of my fame ! Prepare my dark-bofomed fhip to carry my hero to Inis- thona. Son of my fon, -regard our fame ; for thou art of the race of renown. Let not the children of ftrangers fay, feeble are the fons of Morven ! Be thou, in battle, like the roar- ing ftorm : mild as the evening fun in peace- Tell, Ofcar, to Inis-thona's king, that Fingal remembers his youth ; when we ftrove in the combat together in the days of Agandecca. ^- They lifted up the founding fail; the wind whittled through the thongs ^ of their mafls. Waves lallied the oozy rocks : the ftrength of ocean roared My fon beheld, from the wave, the land of groves. He rulhed into the f Leather thpngs were yfed in Ofllan's time, inftead qf ropesj r : echoing A ,oKT P o E M.'^ :r 151 echoing bay of Runaj and fcnt his fword tO: Annir king of fpears. - The gray-haired hero rofe, when he faw tke fword of Fingal. His eyes were full of tears;- and he remembered the battles of their youth.r Twice they lifted the fpear before the lovely. Agandecca : heroes flood far diftant, as if two ghofts contended. But now, begun the king, I am old j the fword lies ufelefs in my hall. Thou who art of Morven's race ! Annir has been in the ftrife of fpears j but he is pale and withered now, like the oak of Lano. I have no fon to meet thee with joy, or to carry thee to the halls of his fa- thers. Argon is pale in the tomb, and Ruro is no more. My daughter is in the hall of ftran- gers, and longs to behold my tomb. Her fpoufe fhakes ten thoufand fpears ; and comes ^ like a cloud of death from Lano, Come thou, * Cormalo had refolved on a war againft his father-in-law Annir king of Inis-thona, in order to deprive him of his king- dom : the injuftice of his defigns was fo much rcfented by Fin- gal, that he fent his grandfon, Ofcar, to the afliftance of Annir. Both armies came foon to a battle, in which the conduft and va- lour of Ofcar obtained a complete viftory. An end was put to the war by the death of Cormalo, who fell in a fmgle combat', by Ofcar's hand. Thus is the ftory delivered down by tradi- tion ; though the poet, to raife the charaftcr of his fon, makes Ofcar himfclfpropofe the expedition. L 4 to fp The WAR of INIS-THONA: t& ihare the haJk of A^r, fon of QQiujtq^g Morven. i 'f^r- Three days they feafted together; on the fourth Annir heard the name of Ofcar *. They rejoiced in the Ihell f' ; and purfued the boars of Rvma. Beside the fount of mofly ftones, the weary heroes reft. The tear fteals in fecret from Ani nir : > and he broke the rifing figh. . Here darkly reft, the hero faid, the children of my youth. This ftone is the tomb of Ruro : that tree founds over tJie grave of Argon. Po ye hear my voice, O my fons, within your narrow houfe ? Or do ye fpeak in thefe ruftling leaves, when the winds of the defart rife ? JCr^^G of Inis-thona, faid Ofcar, how fell the children of youth ? The wild boar often ruftie? over their tombs, but he ^oes not difturb the hunters. They purfi^c deer :j fornied oif clouds, and It was thpught, in thofe days of heroilrn, an infringement upon the laws of hofpitality, to afk the name of a llranger, before he had feafted three days in the great hall of the family. He that ^Jki the name of the ft ranger y is, to this day, an opprobrious term applied, in the north, to the inhofpitable. "f- To rejoice in the /hell is a phrafe for feafting fumptuoufly ai^4 drinking freely. I have phfefved in a preceding note, that th^ ancient Scots drunk in ftiells. ;J: The notion of Oflian concerning the ftate of the decpafed, WAS the fame with that of ch^ ancien^ Greeks and Romans. They A ? O % M. |$3 and ^od their ^iry bow.*"They ftiU iQVf tb fport of theiv yoijth 5 g.n4 mount the wind witjj^ joy* Cor MA to, replied the king, is chief of ten thpufand fpears } he dwells qit the d^rJc-roJUng They imagined that the fools purfued, in their fcparaic ftate, the employments and pleafures of their former life. ^rma procu/^ curru/que virum miratifr inanes, Stant terra defixa bajia, fajjimque foluti Per campum pa/cuntur equi, qua gratia eurruuu jirmovumqut fuit mvis ; qti ^^tJow I the ftrength of Hercules behold, A towVing fpeftre of gigantic mold j Gloomy as night h ftands in al to throw Th' aerial arrow from the twanging bow. Around his breaft a wond'rous zone is roll'd Where woodland monflers grin in fretted gold, There ful'.en lions fternly feem to roar, The bear to growl, to foam the tufky boar, There war and havock and deftruftion flood. And vengeful murder red with human blood. Popf. waters iM The WAR of INIS-THONA: waters of Lano * ; which fend forth the cloud of death. He came to Runa's echoing halls, and fought the honour of the fpear -f . The youth was lovely as the firft beam of the fun j and few were they who could meet him in fight ! My tcroes yielded to Cormalo : and my daughter loved the fon of Lano. Arc? ON and Ruro returned from the chace ; the tears of their pride defcended : They rolled their filent eyes on Runa's heroes, becaufe ^hey yielded to a flranger : three days they feafted with Cormalo : on the fourth my Argon fought. But who could fight with Argon ! Lano's chief was overcome. His heart fwelled with the grief of pride, and he refolved, in fecret, to be- hold the death of my fons. They went to the hills of Runa, and purfued the dark-brown hinds. The arrow of Cormalo flew in fecret ; and my children fell. He came to the maid of his love j to Inis-thona's dark- haired maid. They fled over the defart- and Annir remained alone. Lano was a lake of Scandinavia, remarkable, in the days of Oflian, for eipitting a peftilcptial vapour in autumn, y^ad thou, O faliant Duchomar, like the mi ft of marjhy Lano j luh^n it fails ever the plains of (tulumn^ and brings death to the people. FiNGAL, B. I. + By the honour of the fpeqr is meant a kJi^d of tournament practifed among the ancient northern nations. A POEM. 155 Night came on and day appeared ; nor Ar- gon's voice, nor Ruro's came. At length their much-loved dog is feen ; the fleet and boimding Runar. He came into the hall and howled ; and feemed to look towards the place of their fall. -We followed him : we found them here : and laid them by this mofly ftrcam. This is the haunt of Annir, when the chace of the hinds is over. I bend like the trunk of an aged oak above them : and my tears for ever flow. O RoNNAN ! faid the riling Ofcar, Ogar king of fpears ! call my heroes to my lide, the fons of ftreamy Morven. To-day we go to Lano's water, that fends forth the cloud of death. Cormalo will not long rejoice : death is often at the point of our fwords. They came over the defart likeftormy clouds, when the winds roll them over the heath : their edges are tinged with lightning : and the echo- ing groves forefee the ftorm. The horn of Of- car's battle was heard j and Lano fliook in all its waves. The children of the lake convened around the founding (hield of Cormalo. Oscar' fought, as he was wont in battle. Cormalo fell beneath his fword : and the fons of the difmal Lano fled to their fecret vales. Ofcar brought the daughter of Inis-thona to An- nir's I5 The WAR oi INIS-THONA: nir's echoing haUs. The face of age was bright with joy ; he bleft the king of fwords* How great was the joy of Offian, when he be- held the diftant fail of his fon ! it was like a cloud of light that rifes in the eaft, when the tra veller is fad in a land unknown j and difmal night, with her ghofts, is fitting around him*. We brought him, with fongs, to Selma's halls. Fingal rder-ed the feaft of Ihells to be fpread. A thoufand bards raifed the name of Ofcar : and Morven anfwered to the noife. The daughter of Tofcar was there, and her voice was like the harp ; when the diftant found comes, in the evening, on the foft-ruftUng breeze of the vale. O LAY me, ye that fee the light, near fome rock of my hills : let the thick hazels be around, let the ruftling oak be near. Green be the placei of my reft ; and let the found of the diftant tor- rent be heard. Daughter of Tofcar, take tho harp, and raife the lovely fong of Selma j that fiecp may overtake my foul in the midft of joy 5 that the dreams of my youth may return, and the days of the mighty Fingal. Selma ! I behold thy towers, thy trees, and fhaded wall. I fee the heroes of Morven ; and hear the fong of bards. Ofear lifts the fword o Corn^alo ; and a thoufand youths admire its * iludded A POEM. 157 ftudded thongs. They look with wonder on my fon ; and admire the ftrength of his arm. They mark the joy of his father's eyes ; they long for an equal fame. ; ^- And ye JhMI hatfe ydu!" fatne^ O fohs of ftreamy Morven. My foul is often brightened with the fong j and 1 remember the companions of my ydilth, =^But fltep defcends with the found of the harp j and pleafant dreams begin to rife. Ye fons of the chace ftand far diftant, nor difturb my reft. The bard of other times con- verfes now with his fathers, the chiefs of the days of old. Sons of the chace, ftand far dis- tant ; difturb iiQt the dreams of Offian. ; . V 1 1 u u iiir> Vftaiz.::. ::v,'o-> r; . T H \ t 'SS ] -.4 itiv/^'ooi y}/i'i' THE' 3^""^^ ;''.' BATTLE of LORA: A P O EM*. SO N of the diftant land, who dwelleft In the fecret cell ! do I hear the founds of thy grove ? or is it the voice of thy fongs ? The * This poem is compleat ; nor does it appear from tradition, that it was introduced, as an epifode, into any of Offian's great works. It is called, in the original, Duan a Chuldich, or the Culdie's poem, becaufe it was addreffed to one of the firft Chriftian miffionaries, who were called, from their retired life, Culdees, or fequefiered per/ons. The Ilory bears a near refemblance to that which was the foundation of the Iliad. Fingal, on his return from Ireland, after he had expelled Swaran from that kingdom, made a feaft to all his heroes: he forgot to invite Ma-ronnan and Aldo, two chiefs, who had not been along with him on his expedition. They refented his negleft ; and went over to Er- ragon king of Sora, a country of Scandinavia, the declared enemy of Fingal. The valour of Aldo foon gained him a great reputation in Sora : and Lorma the beautiful wife of Erragon fell in love with him. He found means to efcape with her, and to come to Fingal, who refided then in Selma on the wellern coaft. Erragon invaded Scotland, and was flain in battle by Gaul the fon of Morni, after he had rejedled terms of peace offered him by Fingal. In this war Aldo fell, in a fingle combat, by the hands of his rival Erragon ; and the unfortunate Lorma after- wards died of grief. torrent . ^A P O E. M. 159 torrent was loud in my ear, but I heard a tune- ful voice ; doft thou praife the chiefs of thy land ; or the fpirits * of the wind ? But, lonely dweller of the rock ! look over that heathy plain : thou feeft green tombs, with their rank, whittling grafs ; with their ftones of molTy heads : thou feeft them, fon of the rock, but Offian's eyes have failed. A MOUNTAIN-STREAM comcs roaring down and fends its waters round a green hill : four mofly ftones, in the midft of withered grafs, rear their heads on the top : two trees, which the ftorms have bent, fpread their whittling branches around. This is thy dwelling, Er- ragon f- ; this thy narrow houfe : the found of thy ihells has been long forgot in Sora : and thy Ihield is become dark In thy hall. Erragon, king of ttiips ! chief of diftant Sora ! how haft thou fallen on our mountains ^ ! How is the mighty low ! The poet alludes to the religious hymns of the Culdees- t Erragon, or Ferg-thonn, fignifies the rage ef the nvaves ; probably a poetical name given him by 0/Iian himfelf j for he goes by the name of Annir in tradition. X The beauty of Ifrael is (lain on thy high places : how are the mighty fallen ! 2 Sam. ii. 19. How are the mighty fallen in the midft of the battle .' O Jonathan, thou \va(l flain \i\ thine high places. z Sam. ii. 25. Son ^So The BATTLE of LORA: Son of the fecret cell ! do^ thou delight In longs ? Hear the battle of Lofa $ the found of Its fieel is long fince paft. So thunder on tht darkened hill roars knd is nd niott. Tlie futt tetiirns with his filent bekttis : the glittering; tocks, and green heads of the mountains fmilt. The bay of Cona received our fhips^*, fronfi Ullin's rolling waves: our \^'hlte Iheets hUtlg loofc to the mafts : and the boiflerous winds roared behind the gro\TS of Mofven.-^ The horn of the king is founded, and the deer i!ltt from their rocks. Our affoWs Hew in th6 , Woods ; the feaft of the hill WaS fpfeud. Ouf joy was great on our rocks, for the fall of tht terrible Swaran. ' Two heroes were f'orgot at our feaft ; and th^ i'age of their bofoms burned. They rolled theif red eyes in fecret : the figh burft from their breafls. They were feen to talk together, aild to throw their fpears on earth. They were two dark clouds, in the mift of our joy j like pillars of mift on the fettled fea : it glitters to the fun, but the mariners fear a ftorm. Raise my white fails, faid Ma-ronnaft, faiib them to the winds of the weft j let us rulli^ O Aldo, through the foam of the northern wave. " This was at Fingal's return from his wax againft Swarr.rt. . We A POEM. i6i We are forgot at the feaft : but our arms have been red in blood. Let us leave the hills of Fin- gal, and ferve the king of Sora, His coun- tenance is fierce, and the war darkens round his fpcar. Let us be renowned, O Aldo, in the battles of echoing Sora. They took their fwords and fhields of thongS j and rulhed to Lumar's founding bay. They came to Sora's haughty king, the chief of bounding fteedsi - Erragon had returned from the chace : his fpear was red in blood. He bent his dark face to the ground : and whittled as he went. He took the Grangers to his feafts i they fought and conquered in his wars. Aldo returned with his fame towards Sora's lofty walls, From her tower looked the fpoufe of Erragon, the humid, rolling eyes of Lorma. Her dark-brown hair flies on the wind of ocean : her white breaft heaves, like fnow on the heath j when the gentle winds arife, and flowly move it in the light* She faw young Aldo, like the beam of Sora's fctting fun. Her foft heart fighed : tears filled her eyes j and her white arm fupported her head. Three days Ihc fat Within the hall, and co- vered grief with joy, On the fourth fhc fled with the hero, along the rolling fca. They M came iSl The BATf L of LORA: came to Cpaa's mofly towers, to Fingal king of Aldo of the heart of pride! fald the rifing king of Morven, fhall I defend thee from the wrath of Sora's injured king? who will now receive my people into their halls, or give the feaft of ftrangers, fmce Aldo, of the little foul, has carried away the fair of Sora? Go to thy hills, thou feeble hand, and hide thee in thy caves ; mournful is the battle, we muft fight, with Sora's gloomy king. Spirit of the noble Trenmor ! when will Fingal ceafe to fight ? I was born in the midft of battles *, and my fteps muft move in blood to my tomb. But my hand did not injure the weak, my fteel did not touch the feeble in arms. I behold tl>y tempefts, O. Morven, which will overturn, my halls ; whienv my children are dead in battle, and nQneJce*- mains to dwell in Selma. Then will the feeble come, but they will not k^iiow my tomb : my renown is in the fong : and my anions fhall be as a dream to future times. . His people gathered around Erragon, as the ftorms round the ghoft of night j when he calls ,* Comha! the Father of Fingal was Ha'm in battle, againft the tribe of Morni, the very day that Fingal was born; fo that he may, witft propriety, 3)e faid'to-liave'.b^en hm in the midfi of hqftks. I them A t* O E M. 163 tliem from the top of Morveti^ and prepares to pour them on the land of the ftranger. He came to the fhore of Cona, and fent his bard to the king; to demand the combat of thoufands; or the land of many hills. FiNGAL fat in his hall with the companions of his youth around him. The young heroes were at the chace, and far diftant in the defart. The gray-haired chiefs talked of other times, and of the ai^ions of their youth j when the aged Narthmor * came, the king of ftreamy Lora. Th IS is no time, begun the chief, to hear the fongs of other years : Erragon frowns on the coaft, and lifts ten thoufand fwords. Gloomy is the king among his chiefs ! he is like the dark* ened moon, amidft the meteors of night. Come, faid FIngal, from thy hall, thou daughter of my love j come from thy hall, Bof- mlnaf, maid of ftreamy Morven! Narthmor, take the fteeds ^ of the ftrangers, and attend the daughter of Fingal : let her bid the king of Sora Neart-mor, great Jlrength. Lora, noify. t Bof-mhina, fcft and tender hand. She was the youngeft of Fingal's children. X Thefe were probably horfes taken in the Incurfions of the Caledonians into the Roman province, which I'ecois to be inii* mated in the phrafe of ^tjleedi of Jirangtr$, Ma V) i64 The Battle of lorA; to our feaft, to Selma's ihaded wall. OfCeilf him, O Bofmlna, the peace of heroes, and the wealth of generous Aldo : our youths are far diftant, and age is on our trembling hands; She came to the hoft of Erragon, like abeam of light to a cloud. In her right hand fhone in arrow of gold ; and in her left a fparkling flielt, the fign of Morven's peace. Erragon brightened In her prefehce as a rock, before the fudden beams of the fun ; when they iffue from a broken cloud, divided by the roaring wind. Son of the diftant Sora, begun the mildly blufhing maid, come to the feaft of Morven's kihg, to Selma's iTiaded walls. Take the peace df heiroes, warrior, and let the dark fword feft by thy fide. And if thou chufeft the wealth of kings, hear the words of the generous Aldo. He gives to Erragon an hundred fteeds, the children of the rein; an hundred maids from diftant lands ; an hundred hawks with fluttering wing, tliat fly acrofs the iky. An hundred girdles * fliall alfo be thine, to bind Kigh-bo- Sandified girdles, till very lately, were kept in many fa- milies in the north of Scotland ; they were bourid about womert. iu labour, and were fuppofed to alleviate their pains, and to ac- celerate the birth. I'hcy were imprcfTed with feveral myftical figures, and the ceremony of binding them about the woman's w\pii^ was accompanied with words and geftures which fhewed the cutlom to liavc come originally from the druids. ^'^ fomed A P O E 'W x6^ ibmed women j the friends of the births of he- roes, and the cure of the fons of toil. Ten fhells iludded with gems fliall fhine in Sora's towers : the blue water trembles on their ftars, and feems to be fparkling wine. Th<^y glad- dened once the kings of the world *, in the midft of their echoing halls. Thefe, O hero, Ihall be thine ; or thy white-bofomed fpoufe. Lorma Ihall roll her bright eyes in thy halls i though Fingal loves the generous Aldo : Fingal ! who never injured a hero, though his arm is ftrong. Soft voice of Cona! replied the king, tell him, that he fpreads his feaft in vain. Let Fingal pour his fpolls aroupd me; and bend be- neath my power. Let him give me the fwords of his fathers, and the lliields of other times ; that my children may behold them in my halls, and fay, " Thefe are the arms of Fingal." Never fliall they behold them in thy halls, faid the rifing pride of the maid 5 they are in the mighty hands of heroes who never yielded in war. King of the echoing Sora ! the ftorm is gathering on our hills. Doft thou not forfce ;he fall of thy people, fon of the diftant land ? The Roman emperors, Thefe fhells were foave of the fpoils pf the province. M 3 Shz i6& The BATTLE of LORA? She came to Selma's lilent halls j the kingbe-e held her down-caft eyes. He rofe from his place, in his ftrength, and iTiook his aged locks, He took the founding mail of Trenmor, and the dark-brown Ihield of his fathers. Dark- jiefs filled Selma's hall, when he ftretched his hand to his fpear : the ghofts of thoufands were near, and forefaw the death of the people. Terrible joy rofe in the face of the aged heroes : they rallied to meet the foe; their thoughts are on the a6lions of other years ; and on the fame of the tomb. Now the dogs of the chace appeared at Trar thal's tomb : Flngal knew that his young he-: roes followed them, and he ftapt in the midft of his courfe.- Ofcar appeared the firft; thei^ Morqi's fon, and Nemi's race : Fercuth * ihewed his gloomy form : Dermid fpread his dark hair on the wind. Offian came the laft. O fon of the rpckf, I hummed the fong of other times : my fpear fupported my fteps over the little ftjeams, and my thoughts were of mighty men. Fingal ftruck his boffy fhield 5 and gave the difmal fign of war ; a thpufand Fear-cuth, the fame with Fergus, the man of the luordy or a commander of an army. f The poet addreffes himfelf to the Cildee. fwords ^Qi' P O EM. ' 167 fiords*, at once unfheathed, gleam, on the: waving heath. Three gray-haired fons of fong raife the tuneful, mournful A''oice. Deep and dark with founding fteps, we rulh, a gloomy ridge, along : like the fhower of a ftorm when it pours on the narrow vale, 1 The king of Morven fat on his hill : the fun- beam -f of battle flew on the wind : the compa- nions of his youth are near, with all their waving- locks of age. Joy rofe in the heroes eyes when he beheld his fons in war ; when he faw tliem amidft the lightning of fwords, and mind- ful of tht deeds of their fathers. Erragon came on, in his flrength, like the roar of a win- ter ftream : the battle falls in his courfe, and death is at his flde. Who comes, faid Fingal, like the bounding roe, like the hart of echoing Cona ? His fhield glitters on his fide ; and the clang of his armour is mournful.- He meets with Erragon in the ftrife! Behold the battle of the chiefs ! it is like the contending of ghoils in a gloomy ftorm, He fp^e ; and to confirm his words out-flew. Millions of flaming fwords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim; the fudden blaze Far round illumin'd hell. Milton, f I have obferved in a former note, that the ftandard of Fin- gal was called the fun-beam from its being ftuddcd with ftones 9nd gold. M 4 But i68 The BATTLE of LORA: *-r-T But fallefi thou, fon of the hill, and Is thy white bofom ftained with bipod? Weep, \i^i happy Lorma, Aldo Is no niore. ,The king took the fpear of his ftrength ; for he was fad for the fall of Aldo : he bent his; deathful eyes on the foej but Gaul met the king of Sara. ^Who can relate the fight of the phiefs ? rThe n^ighty flranger fell. Sons of Cona! FingaJ cried aloud, flop the hand of death. Mighty was he that is now fo low ! and much is he mourned in Soral The flranger will come towards his hall, and wonder why it is filent. The king Is fallen, O flranger, and the joy of his houfe is ceafed. Liflen to the found of his woods: perhaps his ghoft is there ; but he is far diftant, on Morvejfi, be-* neath the fword of a foreign foe. Such were the words of Fingal, when th^ bard raifed the fong of peace ; we flopped our uplifted fwords, and fpared the feeble foe. We laid Erragon in that tombj ai^d I ralfcd the voice of grief : the clouds of night came rolling down, and the ghoft of Erragon appeared tp fome. -His face was cloudy and dark j and an half- formed figh is in his breafl. Blefl be thy foul, O king of Sora ! thine ari^ was terrible h^ war ! A POEM. J69 LoRMA fat, in Aldo's hall, at the light of a fiaming oak : the night cajne, but he did not return ; and the foul of Lornia is fad, What detains thee, hunter of Cona ? for thou didft promife to return. Has the deer been diftant fer ; and do the dark winds figh, round thee, on the heath? I am in the land of Grangers, where is my friend, but Aldo ? Come ft-dm thy echoing hills, O my beft beloved ! Her eyes are turned toward the gate, and fhe Uftens to the ruftling blaft. She thinks it is Aldo's tread, and joy rifes in her face ;^ but fbrrow returns again, like a thin cloud on the moon. And thou wilt not return, my love ? Let me behold the face of the hill. The moon is in the eaft. Calni and bright is the breaft of t)ie lake ! When fhall I behold his dogs returning from the chace ? When fliall I hear his voice, |oud and diftant on the wind ? Come from thy echoing hills, hunter of woody Cona ! His thin ghoft appeared, on a rock, like the watry beam of the moon, when it rulhes from fcctyveer) two clouds, and the midnight fhower \s on the field. She followed the empty form over the heath, for fhe knew that her hero fell, ^ I heard her approaching cries on the wind, like the mournful voice of the brce?e, when it pghs on the grafs of the cave. Sh rj^ The BATTLE of LORA. ' $H E came, fhe found her hef o : her voice was heard no more : lilent Ihe rolled her fad eyes ; ihe was pale as a watry cloud, that rifes from the lake, to the beam of the moon. Few were her days on Cona: Ihe funk Into th6 tomb : Fingal commanded his bards j and they fung over the death of Lorma. The daughters * of Morven mourned her for brie day in the year, when the dark winds of autumn re- turned. Son of the diftant land "f , thou dwelleft in the eld of fame : O let thy fong rife, at times, in: the praife of thofe that fell : that their thin ghofts may rejoice around thee ; and the foul of Lorma come on a moon-beam j, when thou lieft down to reft, and the moon looks into thy dave. Then fhalt thou fee her lovely ; but the tear is ftill on her cheek. The daughters of Ifrael went yearly to lament the daughter (>f Jephthah the Gileadite foiK days in a year. Judges xl. 40. t The poet addrefles himfelf to the Culdee; I Be thou on. a moon-beam, O Moma, near the window of^ my reft ; when my thoughts are of peace ; and the din of arms ^s pver, * FiNGAL, B. 1. CONLATH :-\il CONLATH and CUTHONA: A P O E M*. DI D not Qflian hear a voice ? or is it the found of days that are no more ? Often does the memory of former times come, like tjie evening fun, on my foul, The noife of the Conlath was the youngeft of Morni's fons, and brother ta the celebrated Gaul, who is fo often mentioned in Oillan^s poems. He was in love with Cuthona the daughter of Rpmar, when Tofcar the fon of Kinfena, accompanied by Fercuth his friend, arrived, from Ireland, at Mora where Conlath dwelt. He was hofpitahly received, and according to the cuftom of the times, feafted, three days, with Conlath. On the fourth he fet fail, and coafting the ijlfind of'wa'ves, probably, one of the He- brides, he faw Cuthona hunting, fell in love with her, and car- ried her away, by force, in his (hip. He was forced, by ftrefs of weather, into I-thona a defart ifle. In the mean time Conlath, hearing of the rape, failed after him, and found him on the point of failing for the coalt of Ireland. They fought ; and^ they, and their followers fell by mutual wounds. Cuthona did not long furvive : for Ihe died of grief the third day after. Fin- gal, hearing of their unfortunate death, fent Siormal the fon of Moran to bury them, but forgot to fend a bard to fmg the fu- neral fqng over their tombs. The ghoft of Conlath came, long after, to Oflian, to intreat him to tranfmit, to pofterity, his and puthdna's fame. For it was the opinion of the times, that the fouls of the deceafed were not happy, till their elegies were com- pofed by a bard, Thus is the ftory pf the po(Jm handed down by tradition. chacc 1^2 CONLATH and CUTHONA : chace is renewed; and, in thought, I lift the fpear. ^But Offian did hear a voice ; Who art thou, fon of the night ? The fons of littU: men are alleep, and the midnight wind is in my hall. Perhaps it is the Ihield of Fingal that echoes to the blaft, it hangs in Oflian's hall, and he feels it fometimes with his hands. ^Yes! I hear thee, my friend : long has thy voice been abfent from mine ear ! What brings thee, on thy cloud, to Offian, fon of the generous Morni ? Are the friends of the aged near thee ? Where is Ofcar, fon of fame ? He was often ne^r thee, d Conlath, when the din of battle rofe. Ghost of Conlath. Sleeps the fweet voice of Cona, in the midft of his ruftling hall ? Sleeps Offian in his hall, and his friends without their fame? The fea rolls round the dark I-thona *, and our tombs are not feen by the ftrapger. How long Ihall our fame be unheard, fon of the echoing Morven ? OssiAN, O THAT mine eyes could behold thee, as thou fitteft, dim, on thy cloud! Art thou like the mifl of Lano j or an half-extinguifhed pieteor ? I-thoan, ijland of ixaveh one of the uninhabited weftern ifles. Of A P O E M. 173 Of what are the fkirts of thy robe ? Of what is thine airy bow ? But he is gone on his blail like the Ihadow of mift. Come from thy wall, my harp, and let me hear thy found. Let the light of memory rife on I-thona ; that I may behold my friends. And Offian does behold his friends, on the dark-blue iflc. The cave of Thona appears, with its moffy rocks and bend- ing trees. A ftream roars at its mouth, and Tofcar bends over its courfe. Fercuth is fad by his fide : and the maid * of his love fits at a dif- tancc, and weeps. Does the wind of the waves deceive me ? Or do I hear them fpeak ? TOSCAR. The night was ftormy. From their hills the groaning oaks came down. The fea darkly- tumbled beneath the blaft, and the roaring waves were climbing againft our rocks. The lightning came often and Ihewed the blafted fern. Fercuth ! I faw the ghoft of night f. Silent he flood, on that bank ; his robe of mift Cutlidna the daughter of Rumar, whom Tofcar had carried away by force, f It was long thought, in the north of Scotland, that ftohns were raifed by the ghofts of the deceafed. This notion is ftill en- tertaioed hy the vulgar; for they think that whirlwinds, and Aiduen fqualls of wind are occafioned by fpirits, who traniport thcnirelves, in that manner, from one, place to another. flew 174 CONLATH and CUTHONAi flew on the wind. I could behold his tears : all aged man he feemed, and full of thought. FercIjth. It was thy father, O Tofcaf ; and he forefees fame death among his race. Such was his ap- pearance on Cromla, before the great Ma-ron- nan * fell. ^UUin ! f with thy hills of grafs^, how pleafant are thy vales ! Silence is near thy blue ftreams, and the fun is on thy fields. Soft is the found of the harp in Selama i, and plea- fant the cry of the hunter on Cromla. But we are in the dark I-thona, furrounded by the ftorm. The billows lift their white heads above our rocks : and we tremble amidft the night. TOSCAR. Whither is the foul of battle fled, Fercuth with the locks of age? I have feen thee un- daunted in danger, and thine eyes burning with joy in the fight. Whither is the foul of battle fled ? Our fathers never feared. Go : view the Ma-ronnan was the brothcF of Tofcarr the tranflator has a poem in his pofleffion Goncerning the extraordinary death of that hero. f UHler in Ireland. :J; Sclamath- ^^^.';yi/ /o heboid, the name of Tofcar's palace, on the coaft of Ulfter, near the mountain Cromla the fcene of the epic poem. fettiing A POEM. ii75 fettling fea : the ftormy wind is laid. The bil- lows Hill tremble * on the deep, and feem to fear the blaft. But view the fettling fea : morning is gray on our rocks. The fun will look foon from his eaft ; in all his pride of light. I LIFTED up my fails, with joy, before the halls of generous Conlath. My courfe was by the ifle of waves, where his love purfued the deer. I faw her, like that beam of the fun that iflues from the cloud. Her hair was on her heaving breaft ; Ihe, bending forward, drew the bow : her white arm feemed, behind her, 'like the fnow of Cromla : Come to my foul, I faid, thou huntrefs of the ifle of waves ! But Ihe fpends her time in tears, and thinks of the ge- nerous Conlath. Where can I find thy peace, Cuthona, lovely maid! Cu-THONA-f. A DISTANT fteep bends over the fea, with aged trees and mofly rocks : the billows roll at its feet : on its fide is the dwelling of roes. The * the face of ocean fleeps, And a (lill horror faddens all the deeps. Pope's Homer. I Cu-thona, the mournful found of the ivavej ; a poetical name jTiveii her by Oflian, on account of her mourning to the found of the waves ; licr name in tradition is Gorm-huil, tl-e hiue-ejed moid. people 176 CONLATH and CUTHOi^A: people call it Ardven. There the towers of Mora rife. There Conlath looks over the fca for his only love. The daughters of the chace returned, and he beheld their downcaft eyes* Where is the daughter of Rumar ? But they an- fwered not. My peace dwells on Ardven, fon of the diftant land I ToscaA. And Cuthona ihall return to her peace; to the halls of generous Conlath. He is the friend of Tofcar : I have feafted in his halls. Rife, ye' gentle breezes of Ullin, and f^retch my fails to- wards Ardven's fhores. Cuthona Ihall reft on Ardven : but the days of Tofcar will be fad. I Ihall fit in my cave in the field of the fun. The blaft will ruftle in my trees, and I ihall think it is Cuthona's voice. But Ihe is diftant far, in the halls of the mighty Conlath. Cuthona. Oh ! what cloud is that? It carries the ghofts of my fathers. I fee the fkirts of their robes, like gray and watry mift. When fliall I fall, O Rumar ? Sad Cuthona fees her death. Will not Conlath behold me, before I enter the nar- row houfe r * Th gt-ave. , OSSIAIT. A POEM* 'J77 OSSIAN* I And he will behold thee, O maid : he comes along the rolling fea. The death of Tofcar is dark on his fpear ; and a wound is in his fide. He is pale at the cave of Thona, and ihews his ghaftly wound*. Where art thou with thy tears, Cuthona ? the chief of Mora dies. The vifion grows dim on my mind : I behold the chiefs no more. But, O ye bards of future times, remember the fall of Conlath with tears : he fell before his day f' ; and fadnefs darkened in his hall. His mother looked to his lliield on the wall, and it was bloody i- She knew that her hero died, and her forrow was heard on Mora. Art thOu pale on thy rock, Guthona, befide the fallen chiefs ? The night comes, and the inbumati 'vetiii imago Conjugisy or a modis adtollens pallida miris : Crudilis aras, trajeilaque feSlorafcrro hiudavit.' Virg. the glioft appears Of h6r unhappy Lord : the fpedlre ftares, And with erefled eyes his bloody bofom bares. Dr YDEN. f- Nam quia nee fato^ merit a nee morte perihdty Sid trt'/era anle diem, i^e. - Virg. X It was the opinion of the times, that the arms left by the heroes at home, became bloody the very inftant their owners were killed, though at cvtr fo great a diftance. N day 176 CONLATH and CUTHONA. day returns, but none appears to raife their tomb. Thou frightneft the fcreaming fowls* away, and thy tears for ever flow. Thou art pale as a watry cloud, that rifes from a lake. The fons of thedefart came, and they found her dead. They raife a tomb over the heroes ; and fhe refts at the fide of Conlath.- Come not to my dreams, O Conlath ; for thou haft re- ceived thy fame. Be thy voice far diftant from my hall ; that fleep may defcend at night. O that I could forget my friends : till my footftcps ccafc to be feen ! till I come among them with joy ! and lay my aged limbs in the narrov^ houfe 1 * The fituatlon of Cuthona is like that of Rizpah, Saul'*' mifirefs, who fat by her fons after they had been hanged by th Gibeonites. And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took fackcloth, ancJ fpread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of the harveft until water dropped on them out of heaven, and fufFered neither the birds of the air to rell on thera by day, nor the bealls of prey by Dight. 2 Sam. xxi, icx C A R T H O N ; C A R T H O N*: A POEM. A TALE of the times of old! The deeds of days of other years ! The murmur of thy ftreams, O Lora, brrhgs back the me- mory _of the paft. The found of thy woods, Garmallar, This poem is conipleat, and tlie fubjeft of it, as of moft of OfGan's compofitions, tragical. In the time of Comhal the fon bf Trathal, and father of the celebrated Fingal, Clefsammor the fon of Thaddu and brother of Morna, Fingal's mother, was driven by a ftorm into the river Clyde, on the banks of which flood Balclutha, a town belonging to the Britons between the Walls. He was hofpitably received by Reuthdmir, the principal man in the place, who gave hita Moina his only daughter ia marriage. Reuda, the fon of Cormo, a Briton who was in love with Moina, camcs to Reuthamlr's houfe, and behaved" haugh- tily towards Clefsamnior. A quarrel infued, in which Reuda was kiiled ; the Britons, wliO attended him prefTeJ fo hard on Clefsammcr, that he was obliged to throw himfelf into the ClydC) and fwim to his fliip. He hoifled fail, and the wind be- ing favourable, bore him out to fca. He often endeavoured to return, and carry off his beloved iVloina by night ; but the wind continuing contrary, he was forced to defift. Moina, who had been left with child by her hufliand, brought forth a fon, and died foon after. Reuthamir named the child Carthon, /. f. the ?nurmur of luavesy from the llorm which car- N z ried i8o C A R T H O N: Garmallax, is lovely in mine ear. Doft thou not behold, Malvina, a rock with its head of heath ? Three aged firs bend from its face ; green is the narrow plain at its feet ; there the flower of the mountain grows, and Ihakes its white' head in the breeze. The thiftle is there alone, and Iheds its aged beard. Two ftones, half funk in the ground, Ihiew their heads of . mofs. The deer of the mountain avoids the place, for he beholds the gray ghoft that guards it * : for the mighty lie, O Malvina, in the nar- row plain of the rock. A tale of the times of old ! the deeds of days of other years ! jicd off Clersammor his father, who was fuppofed to have been call away. When' Carthon was three years old, Comhal the fa- ther of Fingal, in one of his expeditions againft the Britons, took and burnt Balclutha. Reuthamir was killed in the attack : and Carthon was carried fafe away by his nurfe, who fled farther into the country of the Britons. Carthon, coming to man's eftal'e was refolved to revenge the fall of Balclutha on Comhal's pofte- rity. He fet fail, from the Clyde, and, falling on the coaft of Morven, defeated two of Fingal's heroes, who came to oppoie his progrefs. He was, at laft, unwittingly killed by his father Clefsammor, in a fingle combat. This ftory is the foundation of the prefent poem, which opens on the night preceding the death of Carthon, fo that what paffed before is introduced by way of epifode. The poem is addrdTed to Malvina the daughter of Tofcar. * It w as the opinion of the times, that deer faw the ghofts of the dead. To this day, when beads fuddenly ftart without any apparent caufe, the vulgar think that they fee the fpirits of the deceafcd. Who A P O E M. i8i Who comes from the land of ftrangers, with his thoufands around him ? the fun-beam pours its bright llream before him ; and his hair meets the wind of his hills. His face is fettled from war. He is calm as the evening beam that looks, from the cloud of the weft, on Cona's iilent vale. Who is it but Comhal's fon *, the king of mighty deeds ! He beholds his hills with joy, and bids a thoufand voices rife. Ye have fled over your fields, ye fons of the diftant land ! The king of the world fits in his hall, and hears of his people's flight. He lifts his red eye of pride, and takes his father's fword. Ye have fled over your fields, fons of the diftant land ! Such were the words of the bards, when they came to Selma's halls. -A thoufand lights "f from the flrangcr's land rofe, in the midft of the people. The fcaft is fpread around ; and the night pafied away in joy. Where is the noble Clefsammor X faid the fair-haired Fingal ? Where is the companion of my father, in the days of my joy ? Sullen and dark he pafies his days in * Fingal returns here, from an expedition againfl the Romans, which was celebrated by OIGan in a particular poem which is in the tranflator's poiTcfiion. f Probably wax-lights ; which are often mentioned as carried, among other booty, from the Roman province. X Clcflumh-mor, jnight^ detth. N 3 the i82 C A R T H O N: the vale of echoing I.ora: but, behold, he comes from the hill, like a fteed * in his ftrength, who finds his companions in the breeze ; and tolTes his bright mane in the wind.^ ^Bleft be the foul of Clcfsammpr, why fo long from Selma? '"'^;^ ^^ ' Returns the chief, faid Clefsammot, irf the midft of his fame ? Such was the renown of Comhal in the battles of his youth. Often did we pafs oyer Carun to the land of the Grangers : * Haft thou given the horfe ftrength ? Haft thou clothed his' neck with thunder i }ic paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in }iis ftrength. Job. Aitr/Aov a7ro^'j)-,|aj, &C. HoM. II. 6. The wanton courfer thus with reins unbound. Breaks from his ftall, and beats the trembling ground ; pis head, now freed, he tofles to the Ikies; Jtiis mane diftievel'd o'er his ftioulders flies j He fnufts the females in thedtftant plairj, And fprings, exulting. Poee, ^alis ubi ahruptis fugit pr^/epia v'lnclis *Iar.dem liber equus, campoque potitus aperto, rIlle in pajfus armentaqtie '.er.dit cqiiarum : arreBifqve fremit cei'vlcihus alte LuxurianSf luduntque lubte per colla, per armos. ViRG. Freed from his keepers, thus with broken reins. The wanton courfer prances o'er the plains : Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds. And fnuffs the females in forbidden grounds. O'er his ihoulders flows his waving mane : fie neighs, he fnorts, he bears his head on high. Pryden. our A ^ P O E M. 1S3 our fwords returned, not nnftained with blood : nor did the kings of the world rejoice. ^Why- do I remember the battles of my youth ? My hair is mixed with gray. My hand forgets to bend the bow : and I lift a lighter fpear, O that my joy would return, as when I firft beheld the maidi the white bofomed daughter of ftran- gers, Moina * with the dark-blue eyes I Tell, faid tlie mighty Fingal, the tale of thy youthful days. Sorrow, like a cloud on the fun, fhades the foul of Clefsammor. Mournful are thy thoughts, alone, on the banks of the roaring Lora. Let us hear the forrow of thy youth, and the darknefs of thy days. It was In the days of peace, replied the great Clefsammor, I came, in my bounding flilp, to Balclutha's f walls of towers. The winds had roared behind my fails, and Clutha's J ftreams received my dark-bofomed veflel. Three dayy I remained in Rcuthamir's halls, and faw that * Moina, y^/? in temper and per/on. We find the Britifh names in this poem derived from the Galic, which is a proof that the ancient language of the whole illand was one and the fame. t Balclutha, /. e. the to'wn of dyJe, probably the Ahluth pf Bede. X Clutha, or Cluath, the Galic name of the river Qyde, the Signification of the word is bending^ in allufion to the winding courfe of that river. From Clutha is derived its Latin name, Glotta. N 4 beam i84 C A R T H O N: beam pf UgHt, his daughter. The joy of the fhell went round, and the aged hero gave the f^ir. Her breads were like foam on the wave, and her eyes like ftars of light : her hair was dark as the raven's wing : her foul was generous and niild. My love for Moina was great ; apd my heart poured forth in joy. The fon of a flranger came ; a chief who Igved the white-bofomed Moina. His words were mighty in the hall, and he often half-un- Ihcathed his fword. Where, he faid, is the mighty Comhal, jthe reftlefs wanderer * of the heath ? Comes he, with his hoft, to Balcluthq^ fince Clefsammor is fo bold ? My foul, I replied, O warrior ! burns iji a light of its own. I ftand without fear in the midft of thoufands, though the valiant are dif- tant far. Stranger ! thy words are mighty, for Clefsammor is alone. But my fword trembles by my fide, and longs to glitter in my hand. - Speak no more of Comhal, fon of the winding Clutha! The flrength of his pride arofe. We fought j he fell JDeneath my fword. The banks of Cluth^ The word in the original here rendered by reftlefs ixanderert Js Zcuta, which is the true origin of the Scott of the Romans ; an i^pprobrious name impofed by the Britons, on the Caledonians, on account of the continual incuriions into their country. heard A P O E Mt iS$ heard his fall, and a thoufand fpears glittered around. I fought : the Grangers prevailed : I plunged into tlie flream of Clutha. My white fails rofe oyer the waves^ and 1 bounded on the dark-blue fea. Molna came to the fhore, and foiled the red eye of her tears : her dark hair ilew on the wind; and I heard her cries. Of- ten did I turn my fhip 1 but the winds of the Eaft prevailed. Nor Clutha ever iince have I feen : nor Moii^a of the dark brown hair. She fell in Balclutha : for I have feen her ghoft. J knew her as fhe came through the diifky night,' along the murmur of Lora : fhe was like the new moon * feen through the gathered mift : when the iky pours down its flaky fnow, and the world is filent and dark. * Infer quas Phcsnijfa recens a 'vohere DiJo Erralot Jylta in rnagna : quam Troius heros Vt fi:/r.utnjuxtajletity agnovitque perumbram Oh/curam, cuulem frimo qui furgere tnerfe Aut nildetf aut 'vidijfe futat per nubila lunam, l^c. Not far from thefe PhcEnician Dido ftood, Frefh from her wound, her bofom bath'd in blood. Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew Obfcure in fhades, and with a doubtful view. Doubtful as he who runs thro' duiky night, px thinks he fees the moon's uncertain light, &c. Dryden. R.AI5E, i86 C A R T H O N: Ra ise *, ye bards, faid the mighty Flngaf,' tlUe praife of unhappy Moina. Call her ghoft, with your fongs, to our hills ; that Ihe may reft with the fair of Morven, the fun-beams of other days, and tlie delight of heroes of old. I have fcen the walls -f of Balclutha, but they were de- foLite. The fire had refounded in the halls r' and the voice of the people is heard no more. The ftream of Clutha was removed from its place, by the fall of the walls. The thiftle ihook, there, its lonely head : the mofs whiftled to the wind. The fox looked out, from the windows, the rank grafs of the wall waved round his head. -Defolate is the dwelling of Moina, filence is in the houfe of her fathers. Raife the fong of mourning, O bards, over the land of ftrangers. They have but fallen be- fore us : for, one day, we muft fall. Why doft thou build the hall, fon of the winged days ? * The title of this poem, in the original, is Duan na tilaoi, i, e. The Poem of the Hvmns : probably on account of its many o youth to lift the fpear ? Haft thou no fon, to raife the Ihicld before his father, and to meet the arm of youth ? Is the fpoufe of thy love no more ? or weeps ihe over the tombs of thy fons? Art thou of the kings of men ? What will be the fame of my fword if thou fhalt fall ? It will be great, thou fon of pride ! begun .'the tall Ciefsammor, I have been renowned in battle; but I never told my name * to a foe. Yield To tell one's name to an enemy was reckoned, in thofe '' days of heroifm, a manifeft evafion of fighting him ; for, if it was oace known, that frieudlhip fubfUled, of old, between the ancellors A . Fi O E M. t9$ Yield to me, fon of the wave, and then thoU Ihalt know, that the mark of rfty fword is in many a field. I NEVER yielded, king of fpears ! replied th^ noble pride of Carthon : I have alfo fought in battles ; and I behold my future fame. Defpife me not, thou chief of men ; my arm, my fpear is ftrong. Retire among thy friends, and let young heroes fight. Why doft thou wound my foul, replied Clefsammor with a tear ? Age does not tremble on my hand ; I fiill can lift the fword. Shall I fly in Fingal's fight ; in the fight of him I loved ? Son of the fea ! I never fled : exalt thy pointed Ipear. ThIey fought, like two contending winds, that ftrive to roll the wave. Carthon bade his fpear to. err ; for he ftill thought that the foe was the fpoufe of Moina. He broke Clefsammor's beamy fpear in twain : and feized his fhining fword. But as Carthon was binding the chief; the chief drew the dagger of his fathers. He faw the foe's uncovered fide ; and opened, there, a wound. anceftors of the combatants, the battle immediaiely ceafceath is trembling in his hand ! his eyes are* flames of fire ! -Who roars along dark Lora's heath? Who but Carthon king of fwords ? The people fall! feeV'how he ftrides, like the fullen ghoft of Morven ! But there he lies a goodly oak, vi'hich fudHen blafts overturned ! When fhalt'thou rife, Balclutha's joy ! lovely car-borne Carthon ? Who comes fo dark from ocean's roa:r, like autumn's Ihadowy cloud ? Such were the words of the bard^, in the day of their mourning : I have accompanied their voice ; and added to their fong. My foul has been mournful for Carthon j he fell in the days of his valour : and thou, O Clefs:immor ! where is thy dwelling in the air? Has the youth for- got his wound ? And flies he, on the clouds, with thee ? 1 feel the fun, O Malvina, leave me to my reft. Perhaps they may come to my dreams ; I think I hear a feeble voice. The beam of heaven delights to fliine on the grave of Carthon; I feel it warm around. O 4 O TIIOU 200 C A R T H O N: O THOU that rolleft above*, round as the lliield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O fun I thy everlafting light ? Thou comeft forth, ' in thy awful beauty, and the ftars hide them- felves in the iky j the moon, cold and pale, finks in the weftern wave. But thou thyfelf moveft alone : who can be a companion of thy courfe ! The oaks of the mountains fall: the mountains themfelves decay with years ; the ocean flirinks and grows again : the moon herfelf is loft in heaven ; but thou art for ever the fame ; rejoicing in the brightnefs of thy courfe. When the world is dark with tempefts ; when thimder rolls, ^nd lightning flies ; thou lookeft in thy beauty, from the clouds, and laugheft at the ftorm. But to Offian, thou lookeft in vain ; for he beholds thy beams no more ; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eaftern clouds, or thou trembleft at the gates of the weft. But thou art perhaps, like me, for a feafon, and thy years will have an end. Thou fhalt fleep in thy This paflage is fomexhing fimilar to Satan's addrefs to the Sun in the fourth book qf Paradife Loft. O thou that with furpafiing glory crown-d. Looks from thy fole dominion like the god Of this new world; at whofe fight all the ftaw Hide their diminifh'd heads; to thee I call. But with no friendly voice, and add thy jiamp Scnl clouds, A P O E M. 201 clouds, carelefs of the voice of the morning. Exult then, O fun, in the ftrength of thy youth ! Age is dark and unlovely ; it is like the glimmering light of the moon, when it Ihines through broken clouds, and the mift is on the hills J the blaft of the north is on the plain, the traveller Ihrinks in the midft of his journey. THE f 202 3 T H E DEATH of CUCHULLIN; A P O E M*. IS the wind on Fingal's fhleld? Or is the voice of paft times in my hall ? Sing on, fwect voice, for thou art pleafant, and carrieft away my night with joy. Sing on, O Bragela, daughter of car-borne Songlan ! It Tradition throws confiderable light on the hiflory of Ire- land, during the long reign of Fingal, the fon of Comhal, in Morven. Arth, the fon of Cairbre, fupreme king of Ireland, dying, was fucceeded by his fon Connac, a minor. The petty kings and chiefs of the tribes met at Temora, the royal palace, in order to chufe, out of their own number, a guardian to the young king. Difputes, concerning the choice of a proper perfon, run high, and it was refolved to end all differences by giving the tuition of the young king to Cuchullin, the fon of Semo, who had rendered himfelf famous by his great anions, and who refidcd, at the time, with Connal, the fon of Caith- bat, in Ulfler. Cuchullin was but three and twenty years old, when he af- fumed the management of affairs in Ireland : and the invafion of Swaran happened two years after. In the twenty-feventh year of Cuchullin's age, and the third of his adminillration, Torlath, the fon of Cantela, one of the chiefs of that colony of Eclgs, A POEM. 203 It is the white wave of the rock, and notCu- chullin's fails. Often do the mifts deceive me for the ihip of my love ! when they rife round fome Belgae, who were in poflefiion of the fouth of Ireland, fet up for himfelf in Connaught, and advanced towards Temora, in order to dethrone Cormac, who, excepting Feradath, afterwards king of Ireland, was the only one of the Scotch race of kings exift- ing in that country, Cuchullin marched againft him, came up with him at the lake of Lego, and totally defeated his forces, Torlath fell in the battle by Guchullin's hand ; but as he him- felf prelled too eagerly on the flying enemy, he was mortally wounded by an arrow, and died the fecond day after. The good fortune of Cormac fell with Cuchullin : many Cet^ up for themfelves, and anarchy and confufion reigned. At laft Cormac was taken off ; and Cairbar, lord of Atha, one of the competitors for the throne, having defeated all his rivals, be- came folc monarch of Ireland. The family of Fingal, who were in the intereft of Cormac's family, were refolved to deprive Cairbar of the throne he had ufurped ; in particular, Ofcar the fon of Olfian had determined to revenge the death of Cathol, his friend, who had been affaffinatcd by Cairbar, The threats of Ofcar reached Cairbar's ears : he invited him in a friendly manner to a feaft which he had prepared at the royal palace of Temora, refolving to pick a quarrel, and have fome pretext for killing him. The quarrel happened ; the followen of both fought,, and and Cairbar and Ofcar fell by mutual wounds : in the mean time Fingal arrived from Scotland with an army, defeated the friends of Cairbar, and re-eftablilhed the family of Cormac in the pof- 'effion of the kingdom. The prefent poem concerns the death of Cuchullin. It is, in the original, called Duuti loch LeigOy i, e. The Poem of Lego" i Lake, and is an epifode introduced in a great poem, which celebrated the laft expedition of Fingal into Ireland. The greateft part of the poem is loft, and nothing remains but fome epifodes, which a few old people in the north pf ScoUand retain on memory. Cuchulliii is the moft famous champion 204 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN : feme ghoft, and fpread their gray fklrts on the wind. Why deft thou delay thy coming, fon of the generous Semo ? Four times has autumn returned with its winds, and raifed the feas of Togorma *, fince thou haft been in the roar of battles, and Bragela diftant far. Hills of the ifle of mift ! when will ye anfwer-to his hounds? But ye are dark in your clouds, and fad Bragela calls in vain. Night conies rolling down : the face of ocean fails. The heath- cock's head is beneath his wing : the hind fleeps with the hart of the defart. They Ihall rife with the morning's light, and feed on the moffy ftream. But my tears return with the fun, my champion in the Irifh traditions and poems ; in them he is al- ways called the redoubtable Cuchullin ; and the fables concerning his ftrength and valour are innumerable, Offian thought his ex- pedition againft the Fir-bolg, or Belgae of Britain, a fubjeft fit for an epic poem ; which was extant till of late, and was called Tora-na-tana, or a Di/pute about PoJfeJJionSf as the war which was the foundation of it, was commenced by the Britifh Belgae, who inhabited Ireland, in order to extend their territories. The fragments that remain of this poem are animated with the genuine fpirit of Offian ; fo that there can be no doubt that it was of his compofition. * Togorma, /. t. The ijland of blue nvaves, one of the He- brides, was fubjeft to Connal, the fon of Caithbat, Cuchullin's friend. He is fometimes called the fon of Colgar, from one of that name who was the founder of the family.- Connal, a few days before the news of Torlath's revolt came to Temora, had failed to Togorma, his native ifle ; where he was detained by contrary winds during the war in which Cuchullin was killed. fighs A P O M. 205 fighs come on with the night. When wilt thou come in thine arms, O chief of mofTy Tura? Pleasant is thy voice In Oflian's ear, daughter of car-borne Sorglan! But retire to the hall of fhells ; to the beam of the burning oak. Attend to the murmur of the fea : it rolls at Dunfcaich's walls : let fleep defcend on thy blue eyes, and the hero come to thy dreams. CucHULLiN fits at Lego's lake, at the dark rolling of waters. Night is around the hero ;, and his thoufands fpread on the heath : a hun- dred oaks burn in the midft, the feaft of Ihells is finoaking wide. Carril ftrikes the harp, be- neath a tree j his gray locks glitter in the beam -, the ruftling blaft of night is near, and lifts his aged hair. His fong is of the blue Togorma, and of its chief, CuchuUin's friend. Why art thou abfent, Connal, in the day of the gloomy ftorm ? The chiefs of the fouth have convened againft the car-borne Cormac : the winds detain thy fails, and thy blue waters roll around thee. But Cormac is not alone : the fon of Semo fights his battles. Semo's fon his bat- tles fights! the terror of the ftranger ! he that is 2o6 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN j is like the vapour of death *, flowly borne by fultry winds. The fun reddens in its prefence> the people fall around. Such was the fong of Carril, when a fon of the foe appeared 3 he threw down his pointlefs fpear^ and fpoke the words of Torlath, Tor- Jath the chief of heroes, from Lego's fable furge : he that led his thoufands to battle, againft car-borne Cormac, Cormac, who was diftant far, in Temora's '(- echoing halls : he learned to bend the bow of his fathers ; and to lift the fpear. Nor long didft thou lift the fpear, mildly-lhining beam of youth ! death ftands dim behind thee, like the darkened half of the moon behind its growing light. Cue HULL IN rofe before the bard t, that came from generous Torlath j he offered him the HOM. II. 54 As vapours blown by Aufter's fultry breath, Pregnaot with plagues, and ihedding feeds of death. Beneath the rage of burning Sirius rife, Choke the parch'd earth, and blacken all the Ikies. POPB. f The royal palace of the Irifh kings j Teamhrath accordiiig to fome of the bards* X The bards were tjie heralds of ancient times ; and their per-* fons were facred on account of their office. In later times they abufed that privilege ; and as their perfons were inviolable, they iatyrifcd the fhell of joy, and honoured the fon of fongs. Sweet voice of Lego ! he faid, what are the words of Torlath ? Comes he to our feajft ox battle, the <:ar-borne fon of Cantela * ? He comes to thy battle, replied the bard, to ihe founding ftrife of fpears. When morning is gray on Lego, Torlath will fight on the plain : and wilt tliou meet him> in thine arms, king of the ifle of mift ? Terrible is the fpear of Torlath ! it is a meteor of night. He lifts it, and the people fall : death fits in the lightning of his fword. Do I fear, replied Cuchullin, the fpear of car-borne Torlath ? He is brave as a thoufand heroes j but my foul delights in war. The fword refts not by the fide of Cuchullin, bard of the times of old ! Morning fhall meet me on the plain, and gleam on the blue arms of Semo's fon. But fit thou, on the heath, O bard! and let us hear thy voice : partake of the joyful fhell } and hear the fongs of Temora. This is no time, replied the bard, to hear the fong of joy j when the mighty are to meet fatyrifed and lampooned fo freely thofe who were not liked by their patrons, that they became a public nuifance. Screened under the charader of heralds, they groily abufcd the enemy when he would not accept the terms they offered, * Cean-teola', htad of afamily, in jo8 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN: in battle like the ftrength of the waves of Lego. Why art thou fo dark, Slimora * ! with all thy Ulent woods? No green ftar trembles on thy top ; no moon-beam on thy fide. But the me- teors of death are there, and the gray watry forms of ghofts. Why art thou da^k, Slimora ! with thy filent woods ? ' He retired, in the found of his fong ; Carrll accompanied his voice. The mufic was like the memory of joys that are paft, pleafant and mournful to the foul. The ghofts of departed bards heard it from Slimora's fide. Soft founds fpread along the wood, and the filent valleys of night rejoice. So, when he fits in the filence of noon, in the valley of his breeze, the hum- ming of the mountain bee comes to Ofiiian's ear: the gale drowns it often in its courfe j but the pleafant found returns again. Raise, faid Cuchullin, to his hundred bards, the fong of the noble FIngal : that fong which he hears at night, when the dreams of his reft defcend : when the bards ftrike the diftant harp, and the faint light gleams on Selma's walls. Or' let the grief of Lara rife, and the fighs of the mother of Calmarf, when he was fought, in vain, Slia'-mor, great liU. t Calmar the fon of Matha. His death is related at large, in the third book of Fingal. He was the only Ton of Matha; and the A POEM. 209 vain, on his hills 5 and fhe beheld his bow in the hall. Carril, place the fhield of Caithbat on that branch ; and let the fpear of Cuchullin be near j that the found of my battle may rife with the gray beam of the eaft. The hero leaned on his father's fhield : the fong of Lara rofe. The hyndred bards were diftant far : Carril alone is near the chief. The words of the fong were his ; and the found of his harp was mournful. 'Alcletha * with the aged locks ! mother of car-borne Calmar ! why doft thdu look towards the defart, to behold the return of thy fon ? Thefe are not his heroes, dark on the heath : nor is that the voice of Calmar : it is but the diftant grove, Alcletha ! but the roar of tlie mountain wind ! Who "f bounds over Lara's ftrcam, fifter of the noble Calmar? Does not Alcletha behold his the family was extinft in him. The feat of the family was on the banks of the river Lara, in the neighbourhood of Lego, and probably near the place where Cuchullin lay; which ciicum- ftance fuggefted to him, the lamentation of Alcletha over her fon. * Ald-cla'tha, decaying leauty : probably a poetical name given the mother of Calmar, by the bard himfelf, t Alcletha fpeaks. Calmar had promifcd to return, by a cer- tain day, and his mother and his filler Alona are reprefented by the bard as looking, with impatience, towards that quarter wher>; they cx'peded Calmar would make his firil appearance. V fpear? 2IO The DEATH of CUCHULLIN: fpear ? But her eyes are dim ! Is it not the fort of Matha, daughter of my love ? It is but an aged oak, Alcletha ! replied the lovely weeping Alona * ; it is but an oak, Al- cletha, bent overLara's ftream. But who comes along the plain ? forrow is in his fpeed. He lifts high the fpear of Calmar. Alcletha, it is covered with blood! But it is covered with the blood of foes f-, fifter of car-borne Calmar ! his fpear never re- turned unftaincd with blood i, nor his bow from the ftrife of the mighty. The battle is confumed in his prefence : he is a flanie of death, Alona 1 ^Youth {{ of the mournful fpeed !, where is the fon of Alcletha ? Does he return with his fame ? in the midft of his echo- ing fhields? Thou art dark and filentl Calmar is then no more. Tell me not, warrior, liow he fell, for I cannot hear of his wound. Why doft thou look towards the defart, mo- ther of car-borne Calmar ? * Alulne, exqu'fttely heautiful. I Aclctha fpeaks. \ From the blood of the flain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan returned not back, and the Avord of Saul re- turned not empty. 2 Sam. i. 22. Ij She addiciles herlelf to Larnir, Calmar 's friend, who had returned with the news of his death. Such A P O E M. Hi Such was the fong of Carril, when Cuchullin lay on his fhield : the bards refted on their harps, and lleep fell foftly around. ^The fori of Semo was awake alone j his foul was fixed on the war.- The burning oaks began to decay ; faint red light is fpread around. A feeble voice is heard : the ghoft of Calmar came. He ftalked in the beam. Dark is the wound in his fide. His hair is difordered and loofe. Joy fits darkly on his face : and he feems to invite Cuchullin to his cave. Son of the cloudy night! iaid the rifing chief of Erin ; Why doft thou bend thy dark eyes on me, ghoft of the car-borne Calmar ? Wouldefl thou frighten me, O Matha's font from the battles of Cormac ? Thy hand was not feeble in war ; neither was thy voice * for peace. How art thou changed, chief of Lara ! if thoii now da^ advife to fly ! But, Calmar, I ne- ver fled. I never feared f the ghofts of the de- fart. Small is their knowledge, and weak their hands; their dwelling is in the wind. But my foul grows in danger, and rejoices in the noife of fieel. Retire thou to thy cave ; thou art not See Calmar's fpeech, in the firft book of Fingal. f See Cachullin's reply to Connal, conccroirig Crogal's ghoft, Fing. b, 2. P a Calmar's 212 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN: Calmar's g^oft ; he dellglited In battle, and his arm was like the thunder of heaven. He ifetired in his blaft with joy, for he had heard the voice of his praife. The faint beam of the morning rofe, and the found of Caithbat's buckler fpread. Green Ullin's warriors con- vened, like the roar of many ftreams. The horn of war is heard over Lego ; the mighty Torlath came> . . - Why doft thou come with thy thoufands, CuchuUin, faid the chief of Lego. I know the ftrength of thy arm, and thy foul is an unextin- guifhed fire. Why fight we hot on the plain, and let our hofts behold our deeds ? Let them bqhold us like roaring waves, that tumble round a took : the mariners haften away, and look on their ftrifc with fear. Thou rifcft, like the fun, on my foul, re- plied the fon of Semo. Thine arm is mighty, O Torlath ! and worthy of my wrath. Retire, ye men of UUin, to Slimora's fhady fide; behold the chief of Erin, in the day of his fame. Carril ! tell to mighty Connal, ifCachuUin mufi: fill, tell him I accufed the winds which roar on Togorma*s waves. Never was he abfent in battle, when the ftrlfc of my fame arofe. Let this fword be before Cormac, like the beam of hea vcn ; heaven : let his counfel found in Temora in the day of danger. He rulhed, in the found of his ^rms, like tl\^ terrible fpirit of Loda *, when he comes in the roar of a thoufand ftorms, and fcatters battles from his eyes. He fits on a cloud over Lochr. lin's feas : his mighty hand is on his fword, and the winds lift his flaming locks. So terrible was CuchuUin in the day of his fame. Torlath fell by his hand, and Lego's heroes mourned. --.- They gather around the chief like the clouds of the defart. A thoufand fwords rofe at once j a thoufand arrows flew ; but he flood like a rock in the midft of a roaring fea. They fell around J he ftrode - in blood : dark SliiT;iora echoed wide. The fons of Ullin came, and the battle fpread over Lego. The chief of Erin overcame ; he returned over the field with his fame. * Loda, in the third book of Fingal, is mentioned as a place of worfliip in Scandinavia: by the/pirif o/Loda, the poet proba- bly means Odin, the great deity of the northern nations. He is dcfcribed here with all his terrors about him, not unlike Mars, as he is introduced in a fimile, in the feventh liiad. So ftalks in arms the grifly god of Thrace, When Jove to punifh faithlefsmen prepares, And gives whole nations to the waftc of wars. Pope. P 3 But 214 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN: But pale he returned! The joy of his face was dark. He rpUed his eyes in filence. The fword hung, unfheathed, in his hand, and his fpear bent at every ftep. Ca^ril, faid the king in fecret, the ftrength of Cuchullin fails. My days are with the years that are paft: and no morning of mine Ihall arife. They fliall feek me at Temora, but I Ihall not be found. Cormac will weep in his hall, and fay, " Where is Tura's chief?'' But my name is renowned ! my fame in the fong of bards. -The youth will lay in fecret, O let . me die as Cuchullin died j renown cloathed him like a robe j and the light of his fame is great. Draw the arrow from my lide ; and lay Cu- chullin beneath that oak. Place the iliield of Caithbat near, that they may behold me amidft the arms of my fathers. And is the ion of Sppp fallen *, faid Carril with a figh ? Mournful are Tura's walls ; and forrow dwells at Dunfcaich. Thy fpoufe * The Jrifli hiftorianj have placed CqchiUin ip the firft cen- tury. The trapflator has given his reafons for fixing him in the third, in the diflertatipn which is prefixed to this collediop. It) other particulars the accounts of Keating and O'FIahe^ ty coincide pretty nearly with Qflian's poems, and tl^e traditions of the Highlands and Ifles. They fay that he was killed ip the twenty-feventh year of his age, and they give hira a great cha- raftfr for his wifdom and valour. A POEM, 215 is left alone in her youth, the fon * of thy love is alone. He fhall come to Bragcla, and afk lier why ihe weeps. He fhall lift his eyes to the wall, and fee his father's fword. Whofe fword is that? he will fay : and the foul of his mother is fad. Who is that, like the hart of the dcfart, in the murmur of his courfe ? His eyes look wildly round in fearch of his friend. Connal, fon of Colgar, where haft thou been, when the mighty fell ? Did the feas of Togorma roll round thee ? Was the wind of the fouth in thy fails? The mighty have fallen in battle, and thou waft not there. ^Let none tell it in Selma, nor in lylorven's woody landj Fingal will be fad, and the fons of the defart mourn. By the dark rolling waves of Lego they raifed the hero's tomb. Luath f', at a dlftance, lies, the companion of Cuchullin, ^t tlie cliace. Coplpch, who was afterwards \'er): famous for his great ex- ploits in Ireland. He was fo remarkable for his dexterity in handling the javelin, that when a good raarkfipan is defcribed, it has pafled into a proverb, in the north of Scotland, Ht it u/t- trring as the arm of Conloch. f It was of old, the cuftom to bury the favourite dog ne.ir the mafter. This was not peculiar to the ancient Scots, for vvc find itpraftifed by many other nations in their ages of heroifm. There is a ftone (hewn ftill at Dunfcaich in the iflc of Sky, to which Cuchullin commonly bound his dog Luath. The ftone goes by his name to this day. P 4 Blcft 2i6 The DEATH of CUCHULLIN: Bleft * be thy foul, fon of Semo ; thou wert mighty in battle. Thy ftrength was like the ftrength of a ftream : thy fpeed like the eagle's f wing. Thy path in the battle was terrible : the fteps of death were behind tliy fword. Blefl: be thy foul, fon of Semo ; car- borne chief of Dunfcaich ! Thou haft not fallen by the fword of the mighty, neither was thy blood on the fpear of the valiant: The arrow came, like the fting of death in a blaft: nor did the feeble hand, which drew the bow, perceive it. Peace to thy foul, in thy cave, chief of the ifle of Mift ! - The mighty are difperfed at Temora: there is none in Cormac's iiall. The king mourns in his youth, for he does not behold thy coming. The found of thy fhield is ceafed : his foes are gathering round. Soft be thy reft in thy cave, chief of Erin's wars ! Bragela will not hope thy return, or fee thy fails in ocean's foam. Her ftcps are not on the Ihiore : nor her ear open to the voice of thy * This is the fong of the bards over Cuchullin's tomb. Every ftanza clofes with fome remarkable title of the hero, which was always the cuftom in funeral elegies. The verfe of the fong is a Jyric meafure, and it was of old fung to the harp. t^They were fwifter than eagles, they were Ilronger than lions. 2 Sam. i. 23. rov/ers. A P Q E M. 217 rowers. She fits In the hall of fhells, and fees the arms of him that is no more. Thine eyes are full of tears, daughter of car-borne Sorglan 1 -Bleft be: thy foul in death, O chief of Ihady Cromla ! D A R - T H U L A, [ 2i8 I I D A R-T HULA: A POEM*. DAUGHTER of heaven f, fair art thou! the filence of thy face is pleafant. Thou comeft fortli in lovelinefs : the ftars attend thy blue fteps in the eaft. The clouds rejoice in thy prefence, It may not be improper here, to give the ftory which is the foundation of this poem, as it is handed down by tradition. r yfnoth, lord of Etha, which is probably that part of Argyle- ihire which is near Loch Eta, an arm of the Tea in Lorn, had three fons, Nathos, Althos, and Ardan by Slifiama, thedaught ter of Serao and filler to the celebrated Cuchullm. The three brothers, when very young, were fent over to Ireland, by their father, to learn the ufe of arms, under their uncle CuchuUin, who made a great figure in that kingdom. They were juft landed in Ulfter when the news of Cuchullin's death arrived. Nathos, though very young, took the command of Cuchullin's army, made head againft Cairbar the ufurper, and defeated him in feveral battles. Cairbar at laft having found means to mur- der Cormac the lawful king, the army of Nathos fhifted fides, and he himfelf was obliged to return into Ulfter, in order to pafs over into Scotland. Dar-thula, the daughter of Colla, with whom Cairbar was J^ love, refided, at that time, in Selama a caftle in Ulfter : Ihe faw, fell in love, and fled with Nathos ; but a ftorm rifxng at fea, they were unfortunately driven back on that part of the coaft of Ulfter, where Cairbar was encamped with his army, waiting for Fingal, who A P O E M. ^19 prefence, O moon, and brighten their dark- brown fides. Who is like thee in heaven, daughter of the night ? The ftars are alhamcd in thy prefence, and turn afide their green, fpark- ling eyes. Whither doft thou retire from thy courfe, when the darknefs * of thy countenance grows ? Haft thou thy hall like Offian? Dwelleft thou in the fhadow of grief? Have thy fifters fallen from heaven ? Are they who rejoiced with thee, at night, no more? Yes! they have fallen, fair light ! and thoii doft often retire to mourn.-^ But thou thyfelf fhalt fail, one nighty and leave thy blue path in heaven. The ftars will then lift their green heads : they who were afhamed in thy prefence, will rejoice. who meditated an expedition Into Ireland, to re-eftabllih the Scotch race of kings on the throne of that kingdom. J'he three brothers, after having defended themfelves, for fome time, with great bravery, were overpowered and (lain, and the unfortunate Par-thula killed herfelf upon the body of her beloved Nathos. Offian opens the poem, on the night preceding the death of the fons of Ufnoth, and brings in, by way of epifode, what pafled before. He relates the death of Dar-thula differently from the comnion tradition ; his account is the moft probable, as fuicide feems to have been unknown in thofe early times : for no traces of it are found in the old poetry. f- The addrefs to the moon is very beautiful in the original. It is in a lyric meafure, and appears to have been fung to the harp. The poet means the moon in her wane. Thou Zia DAR-THULA: Thou art now clothed with thy brightnefs : look from thy gates in the fky. Burft the cloud, O wind, that the daugliter of night may look forth, that the fhaggy mountains may brighten, and the ocean roll its blue w^ves in light. NATHOs*ison the deep, and Althos that beam of youth, Ardan is near his brothers ; they move in the gloom of their courfe. The fons of Ufnoth move in darknefs, from the wrath of car-borne Cairbar 'f'. Who is that dim, by their fide? the night has covered her beauty. Her hair fighs on ocean's, wind ; her robe ftreams in dufky wreaths. She is like the fair fpirit of heaven, in the midft of his fliadowy mift. Who is it but Dar-thula J, the firft of Erin's maids? She has fled from the love of Cairbar, with the car-borne Nathos. But the winds deceive thee, O Dar-thula ; and deny the woody Etha to thy fails. Thefe are not thy * Natlios fignifies youihfuly Ailthos, exquijite heautj, Ardan, fride. f Cairbar, who murdered Cormac king of Ireland, and ufurped the throne. He was afterwards killed by Ofcar the Ton of Oflian in a fingle combat. The poet, upon other occafions, gives him the epithet of red-haired. X Dar-thula, or Dart-'huile, a nvoman nxith fine eyes. She was the mod famous beauty of antiquity. To this day, when a wo- man is praifed for her beauty, the common phrafe is, \^\2Xjhe is as lovely as Dar-thula. mountains. A P O E M. i2t mountains, Nathos, nor is that the roar of thy climbing waves. The halls of Cairbar are near^ and the towers of the foe lift their heads. UUin ftretches its green head into the fea ; and Tura'i bay receives the ihip. Where have ye been, ye fouthern winds ! when the fons of my love wer^ deceived ? But ye have been fporting on plains^ and purfuing the thiftle's beard. O that ye had been ruftling in the fails of Nathos, till the hills of Etha rofe ! till tliey rofe in their clouds, ancJ faw their coming 'chief ! I,orig 'haft thou beeil abfent, Nathos! and the day of thy return is paft *. "' But the land of ftrangers faw thee,^lovdy : Ihou waft lovely in the eyes of Dar-thula. ' Thy face was like the light of the morning, thy hair like the raven's wing. Thy foul was generous and mild, like the hour of the fetting fun. Thy words were 'the gale of tlie reeds, or the gliding ftream of Lora. But when the rage of battle rofe, thou wail like a fea In a ftorm ; the clang of arms was ter- rible : the hoft vanifhed at the found of thy courfe. It was then Dar-thula beheld the^, * That is, the day appointed by dediny. We find nd'ddiiy in Oflian's poetry, if fate is not one ; of that he is rety full in feme of his poems in the tranflator's hands. from 12Z D A R^T H U L A: from the top of her mofly tower : from the towc* of Selama *, where her fathers dwelt. Lovely art thou, Oftranger! ihe faid, for her trembling foul arofe. Fair art thou in thy battles, friend of the fallen Cormac ! i- Why doft thou rufh on, in thy valour, youth of the ruddy look ? Few are thy hands, in battle, againft the car-borne Cairbar ! O that I might be freed of his love ! ^ that I might rejoice in the prefence of Nathos ! -Bleft are the rocks of Etha ; they will behold his fteps at the chace ! they will fee his white bofom, when the winds lift his raven hair ! Such were thy words, Dar-thula, in Selama's mdlTy towers. But, now, the night is round thee : and the winds have deceived thy fails. The winds have deceived thy fails, Dar-thula : their bluftering found is high. Ceafe a little while, O north wind, and let me hear the voice The poet does not mean that Selama which is mentioned as the feat of Tbfcar in Ulfter, in the poem of Conlath atid Cu- thona. The word in the original fignifies either beautiful to ie- hold, or a place luith a plea/ant or ixide profpeQ^ In thofe times, they built their houfes upon eminences, to command a view of the country, and to preveiit their being furprized : many of them, on that account, were called Selama. The famous Selma of Fingal is derived from the (ame root. t Cormac the young king of Ireland, who was murdered by Cairbar. X That is, of the love of Cairbar, 7 ^ A P O E M. 225 of the lovely. Thy voice is lovely, Dar-thula, between the ruftling blafts. Are thefe the rocks of Nathos, and the roar of his mountain-ftreams ? Comes that beam of light from Ufnoth's nightly hall ? The mLft rolls around, and the beam is feeble : but the light of Dar-thula's foul is the car-borne chief of Etha ! Son of the generous Ufnoth, why that broken figh ? Are we not in the land of ftran- gers, chief of echoing Etha ? These are not the rocks of Nathos, he re- plied, nor the roar of his ftreams. No light comes from Etha's halls, for they are diftant far. "We are in the land of Grangers, in the land of car-borne Cairbar. The winds have de- ceived us, Dar-thula. UUIn lifts here her green hills. Go towards the north, Althos; be thy fteps, Ardan, along the coaft ; that the foe may not come in darknefs, and our hopes of Etha fail. i WILL go towards that mofly tower, and fee who dwells about the beam. -Reft, Dar-thula, on the Ihore ! reft in peace, thou beam of light I the fword of Nathos is around thee, like the lightning of heaven. He went. She fat alone, and heard the roll- ing of the wave. The big tear is in her eye; and ihe looks for the car-borne Nathos. Her foul 224 DAR-THULA: foul trembles at the blaft. And Ihe turns her' ear towards the tread of his feet. The tread of his feet is not heard. Where art thou, fon of my love r The roar of, the blaft is around me. Dark is the cloudy night. ^But Nathos does not return. What detains thee, chief of Etha ? Have the foes met the hero in the ftrife of the night ? He returned, but his face was dark : he had feen his departed friend. It was the wall of Tura, and the ghoft of CuchulUn ftalked there.* The fighing of his breaft was frequent; and the decayed flame of his eyes terrible. His fpear was a column of mift : the ftars looked dim through his form. His voice was like hollow wind in a cave: and he told the tale of grief. The foul of Nathos was fad, like the fun * in the day of mift, when his face is watry and dim. Why art thou fad, O Nathos, faid the" lovely daughter of Colla ? Thou art a pillar of light to Dar-thula : the joy of her eyes is in Etha's Conditus in nuhem, meMoqus refugerit orhe j ViRG, Thro' mifts he (hoots his fallen beams, Frugal of light, in loofe and ftraggling ftreams. Dryden, chief. A P O E M. 225 chief. Where is my friend *, but Nathos ? My father refts in the tomb. Silence dwells on Se- lama : fadnefs fpreads on the blue ftreams of my land. My friends have fallen, with Cormac. The mighty were flain in the battle of UUin. Evening darkened on the plain. The blue ftreams failed before mine eyes. The unfrequent blaft came ruftling in the tops of Sclama's groves. My feat was beneath a tree on the walls of my fathers. Truthil paft before my foul ; the brother of my love ; he that was ab- fent "f in battle againft the car-borne Cairbar. Bending on his fpear, the gray-haired Colla came : his downcaft face is dark, and forrow dwells in his foul. His fword is on the fide of the hero : the helmet of his fathers on his head, The battle grows in his breaft. He ilrives to hide the tear. Dar-thula, he fighing faid, thou art the laft of Colla's race. Truthil is fallen in battle. The king :J: of Selama is no more. Cairbar Iv yxg tr \}\ri - " adi ^( ffi ISXTng KO^i '^aTtmf. (A,r,Tr,^. KoM. vl. 411. f The family of Colla preferved their loyalty to Cormac lonj after the death of Cuchullin. l It is very common, in Offan's poetry, to give the title of King to every chief tliat was remarkable for his valour. Q^ comes. 226 D A R-T ti tr L A: comes, with Ms thoufandsy towards Selama's ^alls. Colla will meet his pride, and revenge his fon. But where fhall I find thy fafety, Dar- thula with the dark-brown hair ! thou art lovely as the fun-beam of heaven, and thy friends ar& low ! And IS the fon of battle fallen? I faid with 3 burfting figh. Ceafed the generous foul of Tru- thil to lighten through the field ? My fafety, Colla, is in that bow j I have learned to pierce the deer. Is not Cairbar like the hart of the de- fart, father of fallen Truthil ? The face of age brightened with joy ; and the Crouded tears of his eyes poured down. The lips of Colla trembled. His gray beard whiflled in the blaft. Thou art the fifler of TruChil, he faid, and thoii burneft in (he fire of his foul. Take, Dar-thula, take that fpear, that brazen Ihield, that burnifhed helmet : they are the fpoils of a warrior : a fon * of early youth. ' When the light rifes on Selama, we go to meet the car-borne Cairbar. But keep thou near the arm of Colla ; beneath the Ihadow of my lliield. Thy father, Dar-thula, could onde'de- * The pcet, to make the (lory of Dar-thula's arming herfelf for battle, rtore probable, makes her armour to he that of a very . young man, otherwife it would fhock all belief, that fhe, who was very young, fhould be able to carry it. fend A P O E M ^27 fend thee J but age is trembling on his hand. The ftrcngth of his arm has failed, and his foul is darkened with grief. ' We paired the night in forrow. The light of morning rofe. I fhone in the arms of battle. The gray-haired hero moved before. The fons of Selama convened around the founding Ihield of Colla. But few were they in the plain, and their locks were gray. The youths had fallen with Truthil, in the battle of car-borne Cormac. Companions of my youth! faid Colla, it Was not thus you have feen me in arms. It was not thus I ft rode to battle, when the great Con- fadan fell. But ye are laden with grief. The darknefs of age comes like the mift of the de- fart. My fhield is worn with years j my fword is fixed * in its place. I faid to my foul, thy evening fhall be calm, and thy departure like a fading light. But the ftorm has returned ; \ bend like an aged oak. My boughs are fallen on Selama, and I tremble in my place. Where art thou, with thy fallen heroes, O my car-borne Truthil ! Thou anfwereft not from thy rulhing blaft j and the foul of thy father is fad. It was the cuftom of thofe times, that evety warrior at a cer- tain age, or when he became unfit for the field, fixed his arms, in the great hall, where the tribe feafted, upon joyful occafions. He was afterwards never to appear in battle ; and this ftage of liJc was called the time cf fixing of the arm, Cl2 Birt 28. D A R-T H U L A: liut I will be fad no more, Cairbar or CoUa muft fall. I feel the returning ftrength of my arm, 'My heart leaps at the found of battle.- The hero drew his fword. The gleaming blades of his people rofe. They moved along. the plain. Their gray hair ftreamed in the wind. Cairbar fat, at the feaft, in the filent plain of Lona *. He faw the coming of the he- roes, and he called his chiefs to battle. Why t fhould I tell to Nathos, how the ftrife of battle grew ! I have feen thee, in the n^idft of thoufands, like the beam of heaven's fire ; it is beautiful, but terrible ;' the people fall in its red courfe. The fpear of Colla Hew, for he remembered the battles of his youth. An arrow came with its found, and pierced the hero's fide. He fell on his echoing fhield. My foul fl[arted with fear ; I ftretched my buckler over him ; but my heaving breafl was fccn. * Lona, a marjhy pl^iti. It was the cuilom, in the days of Ofllan, to feaft after a vii^ory. Cairbar had jull provided an en- tertainment for his ai'piy, upon the defeat of Truthil the fon of Colla, and the refl; of the party of Cormac, when Colla and his aged warriors arrived to give him battle. f The poet avoids the defcription of the battle of Lona, as it would be improper in the mouth of a woman, and could have nothing new, after the numerous defcriptions, of that kind, in his other poems. He, at the fame time, gives an opportunity to Dar-thula to pafs a fine, compliment on her lover. r, Cairbar A P O E M. "^^ 229 Calrbar came, witli his fpear, and he beheld Sekima's maid : joy rofe on his dark-brown face j he flayed the lifted fteel. He ralfed the tomb of Colla J and brought me weeping to Selama. He fpoke the words of love, but my foul was fad. I faw the fhields of ray fathers, and the fword of car-borne Truthil. I faw the arms of the dead, and the tear was on my cheek. Then thou didft come, O Nathos : and gloomy Calrbar fled. He fled like the ghoft of the defart before the morning's beam. His hofts were/ not near: and feeble Was his arm agalnft thy fleel. Why * art thou fad, .O Nathos? fald th# lovely maid of Colla. .' v I HAVE met, replied the hero, the battle in my youth. My arm could not lift the fpear, when firft the danger rofe ^ but my foul brighten- ed before the war, as the green narrow vale, when the fun pours his flreamy beams, before he hides his head in a ftorm. My foul briglit- encd in danger before 1 faw Selama's fair; before I faw thee, like a ftar, that fhines on the hill, at night; the cloud flowly comes, and threatens the lovely light. It is ufual with Offian, to repeat, at the end of the epifodes, the fentence which introduced them. It brings back the mind of the reader to the main flory of the poena. 0^3 We 53^ D*^ A R'T H U L A: ' We are in the land of the foe, and the winds have deceived us, Dar-thula! the ftrength of our friends is not near, nor the mountains of Etha, Where Ihall I find thy peace, daughter of mighty Colla ! The brothers of Nathos are brave : and his own fword has Ihone in war* But what are the fons of Ufnoth to the hoft of car-borne Cairbar! O that the winds had brought thy fails, Ofcar * king of men ! thou ^idft promife to come to the battles of fallen Cormao* Then would my hand be flrong as the flajning ^rm of death. Cairbar would trem- ble in his halls, and peace dwell round the 4ovely Dar-thula. But why doft thou fall, my foul ? The fons of Ufnoth may prevail. And they will prevail, O Nathos, faid the rifing foul of the maid : never fhall Dar-thula behold the hajls of gloomy Cairbar, Give me thofe arms of brafs, that glitter to that paffing meteor ; I fee thep in the dark-bofomed fhip. Dar-thula will enter the battle of fteel. Ghoft - of the noble Colla ! do I behold thee on that cloud ? Who is that dim befide thee ? It is the cat-borne Truthil. Shall I behold the halls of * Ofcar, the fon of Gflian, had long refolved on the expedi- tion, into Ireland, againft Cairbar, who had aiTafllnated his friend Catho], the fon of Moran, an Irifhman of noble extraft ion, and in thp interell cf the family gf Corinac. him that flew Selama's chief ! No : I will not behold them, fpirits of my love ! Joy rofe in the ;ace of Nathos, when he heard the white bofomed maid. Daughter of Selama ! thou Ihincft on my foul. Come, with thy thoufands, Cairbar! the ftrength of Nathos iS returned. And thou, O aged Ufnoth, Ihalt not hear that thy fon has fled. I remember thy words on Etha ; when my lails b^gun to rife ; when I fpread them towards UUin, towards the mofly walls of Tura. Thou goeft, he faid, O Nathos, to the king of fhields j to CuchuUin chief of men who ijever fled from danger. Let not thine arm be feeble : neither be thy thoughts of flight J left the fon of Semo fay that Etha's race are weak. His words may come to Ufnoth, and fadden his foul in the hall. The tear was on his cheek. He gave this fhining fword. I CAME to Tura's bay : but the halls of Tura were filent. I looked around, and there was none to tell of the chief of Dunfcaich. I went to the hall of his Ihiells, where the arms of his fathers hung. But the arms were gone, and aged Lamhor * fat in tears. Whence are the arms of fteel, faid the rifing Lamhor ? The light of the fpear has long been Lanvh-mhor, migbtj band. (^4 abfent 232 D A R -T H U L A: abfent from Tura's dufky walls. Come ye from the rolling fea ? Or from the mournful halls of Temora *. We come from the fea, I faid, from Ufnoth*s rifing towers. We are the fons of SHs-sama f, the daughter of car-borne Semo. Where is Tura's chief, fon of the filent hall? But why Ibould Nat^os afk ? for I behold thy tears. How did the mighty fall, fon of the lonely Tura ? He fell not, Lamhor replied, like the filent flar of night, when it llioots through darknefs and Is no more. But he was like a meteor that falls in a diftant land ; death attends its red courfe, and itfelf is the fign of wars. > ^Mourn- ful are the banks of Lego, and the roar of ftreamy Lara! There the hero fell, fon- of the noble Ufnoth., And the hero fell in the midft of flaughter, I faid with a burfting figh. His hand was ftrong in battle; and death was behind his fword. We came to Lego's mournful banks. We found his Temora was the royal palace of the fupreme kings of Ire- land. It is here called mournful, on account of the death of Cormac, who was murdered there by Cairbar who ufurped his throne. f- Slis-feamha, _/o/? l>c_/.m. She w.is the wife ofUfnoth and daughter of Semo the chief of the //?e ofmiji. rifmg A P O E M. 233 riiing tomb. His companions in battle are there ; his bards of many fongs. Three days we mourned over the hera: on the fourth, I flruck the fhield of Caithbat. The heroes ga- thered around with joy, and Ihook their bearny fpears. ^ CoRLATH was near with his hoft, the friend of car-borne Cairbar. We came like a ftream by night, and, his heroes fell. When the people of the valley rofe, they law their blood with morning's light. But we rolled away, like wreaths of mift, to Cormac's echoing hall. Our fwords rofe to defend the king. But Temora's halls were empty. Cormac had fallen in his youth. The king of Erin was no more. Sadne-ss feized the fons of UUin, they flowly, gloomily retired : like clouds that, long having threatened jain, retire behind the hilis. The fons of Ufnoth moved, in their grief, towards Tura's founding bay. We paiTed by Selama, and Cairbar retired like Lano's mift, when it is driven by the winds of the defart. It was then I beheld thee, O maid, like the light of Etha's fun. Lovely is that beam, I faid, and the crowded figh of my bofom rofe. Thou cameft In thy beauty, Dar-thula, to Etha's mournful chief. But the winds have deceived vis, daughter of Colla, and the foe is near. Yes! Jj4 D A R-T H U L A: ys!-^-the foe is near, fald the ruftllng* (brength of Althos*. I heard their clanging arms on the coaft, and faw the dark wreaths of Erin's ftandard. Diftinft is the voice of Cair- bar "f-, and loud as Cromla's falling ftream. He Jiad feen the dark fhip on the fea, before the duiky night came down. His people watch on Lena's X plain, and lift ten thoufand fwords. And let them lift ten thoufand fwords, faid Nathos with a fmile. The fons of car-borne Ufnoth will never tremble in danger. Why doft thou roll with all thy foam, thou roaring fea of Ullin ? Why do ye ruftle, on your dark wings, ye whirling tempefts of the fky ? Do ye think, ye ftorms, that ye keep Nathos on the coaft ? No: his foul detains him, children of the night! Althos! bring my father's arms: thou feeft them beaming to the ftars. Bring the Althos had jaft returned from viewing the coaft of Lena, whither he had been fent by Nathos, the ^beginning of the night, -|- Cairbar had gathered an army, to the coaft of UJfter, in order to oppofe Fingal, who prepared for an expedition into Ireland to ye-eftablifh the houfe of Cormac on the throne, which Cairbar had ufurped. Between the wings of Cairbar's army was the bay of Tura, into which the fhip of the fons of Ufnoth was driven : fo that there was po poffibility of thgir efcaping. J The fcene of theprefent poem is nearly the fame with that of the epic poem in this colleftioij. The heath of Lena and Tura are often mentioned fpear A FOB M. 23^ Ipear of Semo *, it fi;ands in the dark-bofomed ihip. He brought the arms. / Nathos clothed his limbs in all their ihinmg;^eel. The ftride of the chief is lovely : the joy of his eyes terrible- He looks towards the coming of Cairbar, The wind is ruftling in his hair. Dar-thula is filent at his lide ; her look is fixed on the chief. She drives to hide the rifing figh, and two tears fwell in her eyes. Althos ! faid the chief of Etha, I fee a cave in that rock. Place par-thula there : and letf thy arm be ftropg. Ardan ! we meet the foe, and call to battle gloomy Cairbar. O that he came in his founding fteel, to meet the fon of Ufnoth ! Dar-thula ! if thou Ihalt efcapc, look not on tlie falling Nathos. Lift thy fails, O Althos, towards the echoing groves of Etha. Tell to the chief -f, that his fon fell with fame j that my fword did not fhun the battle. Tell him I fell in the midft of thoufands, and let the joy of his grief be great. Daughter of CoUa ! call the n^aids to Etha's echoing hall, Semo was grandfather to Nathos by the mother's fide. The fpear mentioned here was given to Ufnoth on his marriage, it being the cuftom then for the father of the lady to give his arms to his fon-in-law. 1 he ceremony ufed upon thefe occafions is mentioned in other poems. \ Ufnoth, I Ut ^36 D A R-.T H U L A; Let their fongs arife from Natho5, when fhadowjt autumn returns. O that the voice of Cona * might be heard in n\y praife ! then would my fpirit rejoice in thejfnidft of my mountain winds. And my voice fhall praife thee, NatTios chief of the woody Etha ! The voice of Offian fhall rife in thy praife, fon of tke generous Ufriolh I Why was I not on Lena, when, the battle rofe ? Then would the fword of Offian have defended thee, or himfelf have fallen low. . We fat, that night, in Selma round the jftrength of the fhell. The wind was abroad, in the oaks j the fpirit of the mountain -f fhrieked. The blaft' came ruftling through the hall, and gently touched , my harp. The found was mournful and low, like the fong of the tomb. Fingal heard it firft, and the crowded fighs of his bofom rofe. Some of my heroes are low, faid the gray-haired king of Morven. I hear the found of death on the harp of my fon. Offian, touch the founding firing ; bid the for- row rife; that their fpirits may fly with joy to Morven's woody hills. * Offian, the fon of Fingal, is, often, poetically called the voice of Cona, J By the fpirit of the mountain is meant that deep and me- lancholy found which precedes a florm j well known to thofe who live in a high country. I TOUCHED A P O E M. 237 I TOUCHED the harp before the king, the found was mournful and low. Bend forward from your clouds, I faid, ghofts of my fathers! bend i lay by the red terror of your courfe, and receive the falling chief; whether he comes from a diftant land, or rifes from the rolling fea. Let his robe of mift be near ; his fpear that is formed of a cloud. Place an half-extinguiflied meteor by his fide, in the form of the hero's fword. And, oh! let his countenance be lovely, that his friends may delight in his prefence. Bend from your clouds, I faid, ghofts of my fathers I bend. Such was my fong, in Selma, to the lightly- trembling harp. But Nathos was on Ullin's / fhore, furrouhded by the night ; he heard the voice of the foe amidft the roar of tumbling waves. Silent he heard their voice, and refte4 on his fpear. Morning rofe, with its beams; the fons of Erin appear ; like gray rocks, with all their trees, they fpread along the coaft. Cairbar flood, in the midft, and grimly fmiled when he faw the foe. Nathos rallied forward, in his flrength j nor could D.ir-thula flay behind. She came vvjtli the hero, lifting her Ihining fpear. And who are thefe, in their armour, in the pride of youth ? ^ 3S D A R-T Kt U L A^ youth ? Who but the fons of Ufnoth, Althos and dark-haired Ardati ? Come, faid Nathos, come! chief of the high Temora I Let our battle be on the coall for the white-bofomed maid. His people are not with Nathosj they are behind that rolling fea. Why doft thou bring thy thoufands againfl the chief of Etha ? Thou didft fly * from him, in battle* when his friends were around him. Youth of the heart of pride, Ihall Erin's king fight with thee ? Thy fathers were not among the renowned, nor of the kings of men* Are the arms of foes in their halls ? Or the ftiields of other times ? Cairbar is renowned in Temora, ^nor does he fight with little men. 1 The tear ftarts from car-borne Nathos ; he ?turned his eyes to his brothers. Their fpears hlew, at once, and three heroes lay on earth, Then the light of their fwords gleamed on high} the ranks of Erin yield; as a ridge of dark clouds before a blaft of wind. Then Cairbar ordered his people, Ind they drew a thoufand bows. A thoufand arrows flew j the fons of Ufnoth fell. They fell Uke three young oaks which flood alone on the hill j the traveller faw the lovely trees, and wondered how * He alludes to the flight of Cairbar from Selama. a ^hey A POEM. 239 they grew fo lonely ; the blaft of the defart '^ came, by night, and laid then* green heads low j next day he returned, but they were withered, and the heath was bare. Dar-thula flood in lilent grief, and beheld their fall : no tear is in her eye : but her look is wildly fad. Pale was her cheek ; her trem- ? J bling lips broke Ihort an half-formed word. Her ^^ dark hair flew on the wind. ^But gloomy Cairbar came. Where is thy lover now ? the car-borne chief of Etha ? Haft thou beheld the halls of Ufnoth ? Or the dark-brown hills of Fingal ? My battle had roared on Morven, did not the winds meet Dar-thula. Fingal himfelf would have been low, and forrow dwelling in Selma. Her Ihleld fell from Dar-thula's arm, her breaft of fnow appeared. It appeared, but it was ftained with blood for an arrow was fixed in i - her fide. She fell on the fallen Nathos, like a I wreath of fnow. Her dark hair fpreads on his face, and their blood is mining round. Daughter of Colla 1 thou art low! faid Cairbar's hundred bards 5 filence is at the blue I flreamsof Selama, for Truthil's* race have failed. \ When wilt thou rife in thy beauty, fir ft of Erin's % I Truthil was the founder of Dar-thula*s family. maids > i4o D A R-T H U L A. maids ? Thy ileep is long in the tomb, and the morning diftant far. The fun fhall not come to thy bed, and fay, Awake * Darthula ! awake, thou firft of women ! the wind of fpring is abroad. The flowers fhake their heads on the green hills, the woods wave their growing leaves. Retire, O fun, the daughter of Colla is afleep. She will not come forth in her beauty: Ihe will not move, in the fteps of her lovelinefs. Such was the fong of the bards, when they raifed the tomb. I fung, afterwards, over the grave, when the king of Morven came ; when he came to green Ullin to fight with car-borne Cairbar. Rife up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter Is pall, the rain is over, and gone. The flowers appear on the earth ; the time of linging is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines, 'with the tender grape, give a good fmell. Arife, my love, my fair one, and come away. Solomon's Song. r E M O R A T E M O R A; A N EPIC P O E M*. '^r^HE blue waves of tJUin roll in light. JL The green hills are covered with day. Trees fhake their dulky heads in the breeze ; and gray torrents pour their noify ftreams.- Two green * Though the hifldry which is the foundation of the prefent J)oem, was given in the notes on the two pieces preceding, it may- not be here improper to recapitulate fome part of what has been faid Immediately after the death of Cuchullin, Cairbar* lord of Aiha, openly fet up for himfelf in Conhaughtj, and having privately murdered young king Cormac, became, without oppo- fition, fole monarch of Ireland. The murder of Cormac was fb much refcnted by Fingal, that he 1-efoIved on an expedition into Ireland againft Cairbar; Early intelligence of his defigns came to Cairbar, and he had gathered the tribes together into Ulder, to bppofe Fingal's landing ; at the fame time his brother Cathmqr kept himfelf with an army near Temora. This Cathmor is one of the fmeft charafters in the old poetry. His humanity, gene- t-ofity, and hofpitality, were unparalleled : in fhort, he had no fault, but too much attachment to fo bad a brothei as Cairbar. The prefent poem has its name from Temora, the royal palace of the Iiifh kings, near v/hich the laft and decifive battle wa$ fought between Fingal and Cathmor. What has come to the R tranlUtar's 242 T E M O R A: green hills, with their aged oaks, farround a narrow plain. The blue courfe of the moun- tain-ftream is there ; Cairbar ftands on its banks. His fpear fupports the king : the red eyes of his fear are fad. Cormac rifes in his foul, with all his gHaftly wounds. The gray form of tranflator's hands, in a regular connexion, is little more than the opening of the poem. This work appears, from the flory of it, which is ftil! preferv'd, to have been one of the greateft of Offian^s compofitions. The variety of the charafters makes itin- terefting ; and the war, as it is carried on by Fingal and Cath- mor, affords inftances of the greateft bravery, mixed with in- comparably generous aftions and fentiments. One is at a lofs for which (idc to declare himfelf : and often wiflies, when both commanders march to battle, that both may return viflorious. At length the good fortune of Fingal preponderates, and the fa- mily of Cormac are re-eftablifhed on the Irifli throne. The Irifh traditions relate the affair in another light, and ex- claim againft Fingal for appointing thirty judges, or rather ty- rants, atTemora, for regulating, the affairs of Ireland. They pretend to enumerate many afts of oppreffion committed by thofe judges ; and afHrnv, that both they and a part of Fingal" s army, which was left in Ireland to enforce their laws, were at laft ex- pelled the kingdom. Thus the Irifli traditions, fay the hifto- rians of that nation. It is faid, however, that thofe gentlemen fometimes create fafts, in order afterwards to make remarks upon them ; at leaft, that they adopt for real fafis, the traditions of their bards, when they throw luftre on the ancient (late of their country. The prefcnt poem opens in the morning. Cairbar is repre- fented as retired from the reft of the Irifh chiefs, and tormented with remorfe for the murder of Cormac, when news was brought him of Fingal's landing. What pafTed, preceding that day, and is neceflary to be known for carrying on the poem, is afterwards introduced by way of epifode, the An EPIC POEM. 243 the youth appears In the midft of darknefs, and the blood pours from his airy fides. Cairbar thrice threw his fpear on earth j and thrice he flroked his beard. His fteps are fhort ; he often flopt : and tofled his finewy arms. He is like a cloud In the defart ; that varies Its form to every blaft : the valleys are fad around, and fear, by turns, the fhower. The king, at length, refumed his foul, and took his pointed fpear. He turned his eyes to- wards Lena ** The fcouts of the ocean ap- peared. They appeared with fteps of fear, and often looked behind. Cairbar knew that the mighty were near, and called his gloomy chiefs. The founding fteps of his heroes came. They drew, at once, their fwords. There Morlath f* ftood with darkened face. Hidalla's bufhy hair fighs in the wind. Red-haired Cormar bends on his fpear, and rolls his fide-long-looking eyes. Wild is the look of Malthos from beneath two fliaggy brows. Foldath ftands like an oozy rock, that covers its dark fides with foam ; his * The fcene dcfcribed here is nearly that of the epic poem, Fingal. in this neighbourhood alfo the fons of Ufnoth werd killed. -J- M6r-!ath, great hi the day sf battle. Hidalla', nuildly looking hero. Cor-mar, expert at Jea. Malth-os, ^^ov to /peakt Fol- dath, generous. R z fpear 244 T E M O R A : fpear is like Slimora's fir, that meets the wind of heaven. His fhield is marked with the ftrokes of battle ; and his red eje defpifes danger. Thefe and a thoufand other chiefs furrounded car-borne Cairbar, when the fcout of ocean came, Mor-amial *, from l^reamy Lena. His eyes hang forward from his face, his lips arc trembling, pale. Do the chiefs of Erin Itand, he faid, filent as the grove of evening ? Stand they, like a filent wood, and Fingal on the coaft? Fingal, who Is terrible in battle, the king of f^reamy Morven. And haft thou feen the warrior, faid Cairbar with a ligh ? Are his heroes many on the coafl ? Lifts he the fpear of battle ? Or comes the king itt peace ? He conies not in peace, O Cairbar: for I have fcen his forward fpear f'* It is a meteor of death : the blood of thoufands is on its fteeh He came iirft to the fhore, flrong in the * Mdr-annail, Jirong breath; a very proper name for a fcout. t Mor-annal here alludes to the particular appearance of Fin- gal's fpear. If a man, upon his firfl: landing in a ftrange country, kept the point of his fpear forward, it denoted'in thofe days that he came in a hoftile manner, and accordingly he was treated as an enemy; if he kept the point behind him, it was a token offriendftirp, and he was immediately invited to the feaft, according to the hofpitality of the times. 3 si"^y An E P I C POEM. 245 gray hair of age. Full rofe his finewy limbs, as he ftrode in his might. That fword is by his fide which gives no fecond * wound. His lliield is terrible, like the bloody moon, when it riftrs in a ftonn. Then came Offian king of fongs; and Morni's fon, the firft of men. Connal leaps forward on his fpear : Dermid fpreads his dark-brown locks. Fillan bends his bow : Fer- gus ftrides in the pride of youth. Who is that with aged locks ? A dark lliield is on his fide. His fpear trembles at every ftep ; and age is on his limbs. He bends his dark face to the ground ; the king of fpears is fad ! It is Uf- noth, O Cairbar, coming to revenge his Ions. He fees green UUin with tears, and he remem- bers the tombs of his children. But far before the reft, the fon of Offian comes, bright in the fmiles of youth, fair as the firft beams of the fun. His long hair falls on his back. His dark brows are half hid beneath his helmet of fteel. His fword hangs loofc on the hero's fide. His fpear glitters as he moves. I fled from his ter- rible eyes, king of high Temora ! This was the famous fword of Flngal, made by Luno, afmith of LocliHn, and after him poetically called the^oa of hum : it is faid of this fword, that it killed a man at every flroke ; and that Fingal never ufed it, but in times of the grcatell danger. R 3 Then 246 T E M O R A: Then fly, thou feeble man, faid the gloomy- wrath of Foldath : fly to the grey ftreams of thy land, fon of the little foul ! Have not 1 feen that Ofcar ? I beheld the chief in battle. He is of the mighty in danger : but there are others who lift the fpear. -Erin has many fons as brave : yes more brave, O car-borne Cairbar ? Let poldath meet him in the ftrength of his courfe, and fl:op this mighty flream. My fpear is co- vered with the blood of the valiant -, my fhield is like Tura's wall. Shall Foldath alone meet the foe, replied the dark-browed Malthos ? Are not they nu- merous on our coafl:, like the waters of a thou- fand flreams ? Are not thefe the chiefs who van- quiflied Swaran, when the fons of Erin fled? And fhall Foldath meet their braveft hero ? Fol- dath of the heart of pride ! take the ftrength of the people by thy fide; and let Malthos come. My fword is red with flaughter, but who has heard my words ? * Sons of green Erin, begun the mild Hidalla, let not FIngal hear your words : leaft the foe re- joice, and his arm be ftrong in the land. Ye are brave, O warriors, and like the tempefts of the dciartj they meet the rocks without fear, and * Xhat is, who lias heard my vaunting? He intended the ex- preffion' 33 a rebulce to the felf.praife of Foldatli. overtura An epic poem. 247- overturn the woods in their courfe. But let us . move in our ftrength, and floW as a gathered cloud, when the winds drive it from behind. Then ihall the mighty tremble, and the fpear drop from the hand of the valiant. We fee the cloud of death, they will fay ; and their faces will turn pale. Fingal will mourn in his age ; and fay that his fame is ceafed. Morven will behold his chiefs no more : the mofs of years ihall grow in Selma. Cairbar heard their words, in filence, like the cloud of a Ihower : it ftands dark on Cromla, till the lightning burfts its fide ; the valley gleams with red light; the fpirits of the ftorm rejoice. So flood the filent king of Temora ; at length his words are heard. Spread the feaft on Lena : and let my hun- dred bards attend. And thou, red-hair'd OUa, take the harp of the king. Go to Ofcar king of fwords, and bid him to our feaft. To-day we feaft and hear the fong ; to-morrow break the fpears. Tell him that I have raifed the tomb of Cathol * ; and that my bards have fung to his ghoft.- * Cathol the fon of Maronnan, or Moran, was murdered by Cairbar, for his attachment to the family of Cormac. He had attended Ofcar to the njoar of Iv.is-ihona, where they contrafted a great fricndfhip for one another. Ofcar, immediately after the death of Cathol, had fent a formal challenge to Cairbar, which R4. he 248 T E M O R A: ghoft. Tell him that Gairbar has heard his fame at the flream. of diftant Carun *. Cathmor f* is not here , the generous bro-r ther of Cairbar ; he is not here with his thou- fands, and our arms are weak. Cathmor is, a foe to ftrife at the feaft : his foul is bright as the fun. But Cairbar fhall fight withOfcar, chiefs of the high Temora ! His words for Cathol were many ; and the wrath of Cairbar burns. He fhall fall on Lena : and my fame fhall rife ill blood. The faces of the heroes brightened. They fpread over Lena's heath. The feaft of ihells is prepared. The fongs of the bards arofe. We heard '^ the voice of joy on the coaft, an4 we thought that the mighty Cathmor came. Cathmor he prudently declined, but conceived a fecret hatred againft Of- car, and "had beforehand contrived to kill him at the feaft, to which he here invites him. * He alludes to the battle of Ofcar againft Caros, J:ifig of Jhips; who is fuppofed to be the fame with Caraufms the ufurper. f Cath-mor, great In battle. Cairbar takes advantage of his brother's abfence, to perpetrate his ungenerous deigns againft Ofcar; for the noble fpirit of Cathmor, had he been prefent, would not have permitted the laws of that hofpitality, for which he was fo renowned himfelf, to be violated. The brothers form a contraft : we do not deteft the mean foul of Cairbar more, than we admire the difmterefled and generous mind of Cathmor. X Fingal's army heard the joy that was in Cairbar's camp. The charafter given of Cathmor is agreeable to the times. Some, An EPIC POEM. 249 Cathmor the friend of ftrangers ! the brother of red-haired Cairbar. But their foul/ were -not the fame : for the light of heaven was in the bo- fom of Cathmor. His towers rofe on the banks of Atha : feven paths led to his halls. Seven chiefs flood on thofe paths, and called the flranger to the feaft ! But Cathmor dwelt in the wood to avoid the voice of praife, Olla came with his fongs. Ofcar went to Cairbar's feaft. Three hundred heroes attended the chief, and the clang of their arms is terrible. The gray dogs bounded on the heath, and their Some, through oflentation, were hofpitable ; and others fell na- turally into a cuftom handed down from their anceftors. But what marks ftrongly the charafter of Cathmor, is his averfion to praife ; for he is reprefented to dwell in a wood to- avoid the thanks of his guefls ; which is ftill a higher degree of generofity than that of Axylus in Homer : for the poet does not fay, but the good man might, at the head of his own table, have hear4 with pleafure the praife beftowed pn him by the people he en- tertained. Ttv^^un^yiv, Of tvuim ivxltfjUrri t A^tcQjix TlayTuq yecf ^iXtscrxEK, o^v iw olxtcc miur. HOM. 6. 12. Next Teuthra's fon diftain'd the fands with blood, Axylus, hofpitable, rich and good : In fair Arillie's walls, his native place. He held his feat ; a friend to human race, Faft by the road, his ever open door Qblig'd the wealthy, and reliev'U the poor. Pope. howling 250 T E M O R A: howling Is frequent. Fingal faw the departure of the hero : the foul of the king was fad. He breads the gloomy Calrbar : but who of the race of Trenmor feared the foe ? My fon lifted high the fpear of Cormac : an hundred bards met him with fongs. Cairbar concealed with fmiles the death that was dark in his foul. The feaft is fpread, the fhells refound ; joy brightens the face of the hoft. But it was like the parting beam of the fun, when he is to hide his red head, in a ftorm. Cairbar rofe in his arms ; darknefs gathers on his brow. The hundred harps ceafed at once. The clang * of fhields is heard. Far diftant on the heath Olla raifed his fong of woe. My fon knew the fign of death j and rifmg feized his ifpear. Oscar ! faid the dark*red Cairbar, I behold the fpear "f of Erin's kings. The fpear of Te- When a chief was determined to kill a man that was in his power already, it was ufual to fignify, that his death was intend- ed, by the found of alhield ftruck with the blunt end of a Ip ear ; at the fame time that a bard at a diftance raifed the deaih-fong. A ceremony of another kind was long ufed in Scotland upon fuch occafions. Every body has heard that a bull's head was ferved up to Lord Douglas in the caftle of Edinbuigh, as a certain fig- nal of his approaching death. t Cormac, the fon of Arth, had given the fpear, which is here -the foundation of the quarrel, to Ofcar when he came to congratulate him, upon Swaran's being expelled from Ireland. mora An epic poem. 251 mora * glitters in tliy hand, fon of the woody Morven ! It was the pride of an hundred kings, the death of heroes of old. Yield it, fon of Offian, yield it to car-borne Cairbar. trt Shall I yield, Ofcar replied, the gift of Erin's injured king : the gift of fair-haired Cor- mac, when Ofcar fcattered his foes ? I came to his halls of joy, when Swaran fled from Fingal. Gladnefs rofe in the face of youth : he gave the fpear of Temora. Nor did he give it to the fee- ble, O Cairbar, neither to the weak in foul. The darknefs of thy face is not a ftorm to me ; nor are thine eyes the flames of death. Do I fear thy clanging fliield ? Does my foul tremble at 011a*s fong ? No : Cairbar, frighten thou the feeble; Ofcar is like a rock. And wilt thou not yield the fpear, replied the rifing pride of Cairbar ? Are thy words mighty becaufe Fingal is near, the gray-haired warrior of Morven. He has fought with little men. But he muft vaniiTi before Cairbar, like a thin pillar of mift before the winds of Atha'f'. Were he who fought with little n>ennear the chief of Atha: Atha's phief would yield green, * Ti'-m6r-ri', the hou/e of the great king, the name of the royal palace of the fupreme kings of Ireland. t A\\\?Ly Jhalkw river : the name of Cairbay's feat in Coni. paught. I Erin 25*^ T E M O R A: Erin to avoid his rage. Speak not of the mighty, O Cairbar! but turn thy fword on rae. Our firength is equal : but Flngal is renowned ! the firft of mortal men ! Their people few the darkening chiefs. Their crowding fteps are heard around. Their eyes roll in fire. A thoufand fwords are half un- ilieathed. Red-haired OUa raifed the fong of battle : the trembling joy of Ofcar's foul arofe ; the wonted joy of his foul when Fingal's horn was heard. . ' - ' . Dark as the dwelling wave: of ^cean before the rifing winds, when it bends its head near the coaft, .came on the hoft of Cairbar. Daugh- * ter of Tofcar * ! why that tear ? He is not fallen yet. Many were the deaths of "his arm before my hero fell ! Behold they faW before my fon like the groves in the defart, \yhen an angry ghoft rufhes through night, and takes their gi'ecn heads in his hand ! Morlath falls : Maron- nail dies : Conachar trembles in his blood. Cair- bar Ihirlnks before Ofcar's fword j and creeps in darkncfe behind his ftone. He lifted the fpear in fecret, and pierced my Ofcai^'s fide. He falls forward on his fhield : his knee fuftains the * The poet means MaJvIna, the daughter of Tofcar, to whom hd addreffed that part of the poem, which related to the death of Ofcar her lover, chief : An EPIC POEM. 253 chief: but his fpear is in his hand. See gloomy Cairbar * falls. The ftecl pierced his forehead,, and divided his red hair behind. He lay, like a Ihattered rock, which Cromla Ihakes from its Ude. But never more Ihall Ofcar rife ! he leans oh his bolTy fhicld. His fpear is in his terrible hand : Erin's fons flood diftant and dark. Their Ihouts arofe, like the crowded noife of ilreams, and Lena echoed around. FiNGAL heard the found; and took his fa- ther's fpear. His fteps are before us on the heath. He fpoke the words of woe. I hear the noife of battle : and Ofcar is alone. Rife, ye fons of Morven, and join the hero's fword. OssiAN ruHied along the heath. Fillan bounded over Lena. Fergus flew with feet df wind. Fingal ftrode in his ftrcngth, and the light of his fliield is terrible. The fons of Erin faw it far diftant ; they trembled in their fouls. They knew that the wrath of the king arofe : and they forefaw their death. We firft arrived j we fought ; and Erin's chiefs withftood our rage. The Ififh hillorjans place the death of Cairbar, in the latter end of the third century : they fay, he was killed in battle againft Ofcar the fan of Offiaii, but deny that he fell by his hand. As they have nothing to go upon but the traditions of their bards, the tranflator thinks that the account of Ollian is as probable : at the word, it is but oppofing one tradition to an- other. .i^-. But 254 T E M O R A: But when the king came, in the found of hi3 courfe, what heart of fteel could ftand ! Erin fled over Lena. Death purfued their flight. We faw Ofcar leaning on his fhield. We faw his blood around. Silence darkened on every hero's face. Each turned his back and wept. The king Itrove to hide his tears. His gray beard whittled in the wind. He bends his head over his fon ; and his words are mixed with fighs. And art thou fallen, Ofcar, In the midft of thy courfe? the heart of the aged beats over thee 1 He fees thy coming battles. He beholds the battles which ought to come, but they are cut off from thy fame. When fhall joy dwell at Selma ? When fhall the fong of grief ceafe o Morvcn ? My fons fall by degrees : Fingal fhall be the lafi: of his race. The fame which I have received lliall pafs away : my age will be without friends. I Ihall fit like a grey cloud in my hall : nor fhall I expe6^ the return of a fon, in the midft of his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes of Morven ! never more fhall Ofcar rife! And they did weep, O Fingal; dear was the hero to their fouls. He went out to battle^ and the foes vanifhed ; he returned, in peace, amidft their joy. No father mourned his fon flain in youth i no brother his brother of love. They * Ait EPIC POEM* 255 fell, without tears, for the chief of the people was low ! Bran * is howling at his feet : gloomy Luath is fad, for he had often led them to the chace ; to the bounding roes of the defart. When Ofcar beheld his friends around, his white breaft rofe with a figh. The groans, he faid, of my aged heroes, the howling of my dogs, the fudden burfls of the fong of grief, have melted Ofcar's foul. My foul, that never melted before ; it was like the fteel of my fword. Oflian, carry me 'to my hills! Raifethe ftones of my fame. Place the horn of the deer, and my fword within my narrow dwelling. The tor- rent hereafter may walh away th earth of my tomb : the hunter may find the fteel and fay, *' This has been Ofcar's fword." And falleft thou, fon of my fame ! And fliall I never fee thee, Ofcar ! When others hear of their fons, I ihall not hear of thee. The mofs is on the ftones of his tomb, and the mournful wind is there. The battle fhall be fought with- out him : he iTiall not purfue the dark-brown hinds. When the warrior returns from battles, and tells of other lands, he will fay, I have feen * Bran was one of Fingal's dogs. He was fo remarkable for his fleetnefs, that the poet, in a piece which is not juft now in the tranflator's hands, has given him the fame properties widi Virgil's Camilla, . a tomb. i5^ 1" E M O R A: a tomb, by the roaring ftream, where a warriof darkly dwells : he was flain by car-borne Ofcar, the firft of mortal men. I, perhaps, fhall hear him, and a beam of joy will rife in my foul. The night would have defcended in forrowj and morning returned in the fhadow of grief : our chiefs would have flood like cold dropping rocks on Lena, and have forgot the war, had not the king difperfed his grief, and raifed his mighty voice. The chiefs, as new-wakened from dreams, lift their heads around. How long fhall we weep on Lena j or pour our tears in Ullin ? The mighty will not return. Ofcar Iball not rife in his ftrength. The valiant muft fall one day, and be no more known on his hills. Where are our fathers, O warriors ! the chiefs of the times of old ? They have fet like ftars that have ibone, we only hear the found of their praife. But they were renowned in their day, and the terror of other times. Thus Iball we pafs, O warriors, in the day of our fall. Then let us be renowned when wc ; may ; and leave our fame behind us, like the' laft beams of the fun, wheahe hides his red head in the weft. Ullin, my aged bard! take the fliip of the' king. Carry Ofcar to Selma, and let the daugh'^ ters of Morven weep. We lliall fight in Erin for Ai; EPIC POEM. 257 for the race of fallen Cormac. The days of my years begin to fail : I feel the Weaknefs of my arm. My fathers bend from their clouds, to receive their gray-haired fon. But, Trenmor ! before I go hence, one beam of my fame fliall rife : fo fhall my days end, as my years begun, in fame : my life fhall be one ftream of light to other times. Ullin rais'd his white fails : the wind of the fouth came forth. He bounded on the waves towards Selma's walls. I remained in my grief, but my words were not heard. The feaft is fpread on Lena : an hundred heroes reared the tomb of Cairbar : but no fong is raifed over the chief J for his foul had been dark and bloody. We remembered the fall of Cormac ! and what could we fay in Cairbar's praife ? The night came rolling down. The light of an hundred oaks arofe. Fingal fat beneath a tree. The chief of Etha fat near the king, the gray-hair'd ftrength of Ufnoth. Old Althan * flood in the midft, and told the tale of fallen Cormac. Althan the fon of Co- Althan, the fon of Conachar, was the chief bard of ArtH king of Ireland. After the death of Arth, Althan attended his fon Cormac, and was prefent at his death. He had made his efcape from Cairbar, by the means of Cathmor, and coming to Fingal, related, as here, the death of his mailer Cormac. S nachar, 258 . T E M O R A: nachar, the friend of car-borne CuchuUin : he dwelt with Cormac in windy Temora, when Semo's fon fought with generous Torlath. The tale of Althan was mournful, and the tear was in his eye. * The fetting fun was yellow on Dora f*. Gray evening began to defcend. Temora's woods fliook with the blaft of the unconftant wind. A cloud, at length, gathered in the weft, and a red ftar looked from behind its edge. I ftood in the wood alone, and faw a ghoft on the darkening air. His ftride extended from hill to hill : his Ihield was dim on his fide. It was the fon. of Semo : I knew the fadnefs of his face. But he paffed away in his. blaft ; and all was dark around. My foul was fad. I went to the hall of fliells. A thoufand lights arofe : the hundred bards had ftrung the harp. Cormac ftood in the midft, like the morning ftar :f, when it rejoices on the eaftern hill, and its Althan fpeaks. f Doira, the 'v:oo/ly fide of a mountain ; h is here a hill in the- neighbourhood of Temora. ' 'X ^ualiSf uli oceani perfufus Ludfer unda, Slj/cm Venus ante alios ajirorum di "tgit i'^neSy Extulii cs factum ccelof tenehiaf^ue refolvit, ViRG. S9 An E P I C P O E M. 25^ its young beams are bathed in Ihowers. The fword of Artho * was in the hand of the king ; and he looked with joy on its poliibed ftuds : thrice he attempted to draw it, and thrice he failed : his yellow locks are fpread on his flioul- ders : his cheeks of youth are red. I mourned over the beam of youth, for he was foon toTet. Althan ! he faid, with a fnlile, haft thou beheld my father ? Heavy is the fword of the king, furcly his arm was ftrong. O that I were like him in battle, when the rage of his wrath arofe ! then would I have met, like CuchuUin, the car-borne fon of Cantt'ia ! But years may cc^me'on, O Althan ! and my arm be ftrong. Haft thou heard of Semo's fon, the chief of high Temora ? He might have returned with his fame ; for he promifed to return to-night. My bards wait him with their fongs, and my fcaft is fprcnd. I HEARD the king In filence. My tears be- gan to flow. I hid them with my gray locks j but he perceived my grief. So from the feas exerts his radiant henJj , The ftar, by vvhom the lights of Jicav'n r.rc !cJ : Shakes from his rofy locks the pearly 'hnvs ; Difpels the darknefs, and the day renews. Dp. YDE.V^ * Arth, or Artho, the father of Cor:n?c king of Ireland. S 2 Sox 26o T E M O R A: Son of Conachar ! he faid, is the king of Tura low ? Why buriis thy figh in fecret. ? And why dcfcends the tear ? Comes the car- borne I'orlatli ? Or the found of the red-haired Cairbar r They come! for I fee thy grief j and Tura's king is low ! Shall I not rulh to battle?- But I cannot lift the arms of my fa- thers! O had mine arm the ftrcngth of Cu- chullin, foon would Cairbar fly ; the fame of my fatliers would be renewed ; and the acftions of other times ! He took his bow of yew. Tears flow from his fparkling eyes, Grief faddens around : the bards bend forward from tiicir harps. Theblafl touches tlicir firings, and the found of woe afcends. A VOICE is heard at a diftance, as of one in grief; it was Carrll of other times, who came from the dark Slimora*. He told of the death of Cuchullln, and of his mighty deeds. The people were fcattercd around his tomb : their arms lay on the ground. They had forgot the battle, for the Ibund of his Ihield had ceafed. Bi^T who, faid the foft- voiced Carril, come like tlie bounding rocs ? their ftatvire is like the -SlIrnoTa, a hill in Connaught, near which Cuchullin was killed. young An EPIC POEM. z6i young trees of the plain, growing In a fliower : -Soft and ruddy are their cheeks : but fearlefs fouls look forth from their eyes ? Who but the fons of Ufnoth, the car-borne chiefs of Etha ? The people rife on every fide, like the firength of an half-extinguiflied fire, when the winds come fuddenly from the defart, on their ruftling wings. The found of Caithbat's fhield was heard. The heroes faw Cuchullin *, in the form of lovely Nathos. So rolled his fparkling eyes, and fuch were his fteps on his heath. ^ Battles are fought at Lego : the fvvord of Natlios prevails. Soon Ihalt thou behold him in thy halls, king of woody Temora ! And foon may I behold him, O Carril ! re- plied tlic returning joy of Cormac. But my foul is" fid for Cuchullin ; his voice was pleafant in mine ear. Often have wc moved on Dora, at the chace of the dark-brown hinds : his bow was unerring on tlie mountains. He fpokc of mighty men. Pic told of the deeds of my fa- tlicrs ; and I felt tlicjoy of my brcaft. But fit thou, at the feaft, O Carril ; I have often heard tliy voice. Sing In tlicpralfe of Cuchullin j and of that mighty Granger. * That is, they faw a manlfeft likenefs between the perfon of N.:thos and Cuchullin. S 3 Day t6z T E M O R A: Day rofe on Temora, with all the beams of the eaft. 1 rathin came to the hall, the fon of old Gellama *. I behold, he faid, a dark cloud in the defart, king of Innis-fail! a cloud it feemed at firft, but now a crowd of men. One ftrldes before them in his ftrength ; and his red hair flies in the wind. His lliield glitters to the beam of the eaft. His fpear is in his hand. Call him to the feaft of Temora, replied the king of Erin. My hall is the houfe of ftran- gcrs, fon of the generous Gellama ! Perhaps it is the chief of Etha, coming in the found of his renown. Hail, mighty ftranger, art thou of the friends of Cormac ? But Carril, he is dark, and unlovely ; and he draws his fword. Is that the fon of Ufnoth, bard of the times of old ? It is not the fon of Ufnoth, faid Carril, but the chief of Atha. Why comefl thou in thy arms to Temora, Cairbar of the gloomy brow ? Let not thy fword rife againft Cormac ! Whither doft thou tm'n thy fpeed ? He paiTtd on in his darknefs, and feized the hand of the king. Cormac forefaw his death, and the rage of his eyes arofe. Retire, thou gloomy chief oT Atha : Nathos comes with bat- tle. Thou art bold in Cormac's hall, for his * Geal-!amha, white-handed, arm An EPIC POEM. 263 arm Is weak. The fword entered Cormac's fide : he fell in the halls of his fathers. His fair hair 2s in the duft. His blood is fmoaking round. And art thou fallen in thy halls, I faid *, O fon of noble Artho ? The ihicld of CuchuUin was not near. Nor the fpear of thy father. Mourn- ful are the mountains of Erin, for the chief of the people is low ! Bleft be thy foul, O Cormac ! thou art fnatched from the midft of thy courfe. My words came to the ears of Cairbar, and he clofed vs f in the midft of darknefs. He feared to ftretch his fword to the bards i : though his foul was dark. Three days we pined alone : on the fourth, the noble Cathmor came. He heard our voice from the cave j he turned the eye of his wrath on Cairbar. Chief of Atha! he faid, how long wilt thou pain my foul ? I'hy heart is like the rock of the defart ; and thy thoughts are 'dark. But thou art the brother of Cathmor, and he will fight thy battles. But Cathmor's foul is not like thine, thou feeble hand of war! The light of Althan fpeaks. t That is, himfclf and Carril, as it afterwards appears. J The pcrfons of the bards were fo facred, that even he, who had juft murdered his fovereign, feared to kill them. S 4 my 264 T E M O R A: my bofom Is ftained with thy deeds : the bards will not fing of my renown. They may fay, ** Cathmor was brave, but he fought for ** gloomy Cairbar." They will pafs over my tomb in filence, and my fame Ihall not be heard. Cairbar ! loofe the bards : they are the fons of other times. Their voice Ihall be heard in other ages, when the kings of Temora have failed. We came forth at the words of the chief. We faw him in his ftrength. He was like thy youth, O Fingal, when thou firft didft lift the fpear. His face was like the funny field when it is bright : no darknefs moved over his brow. But he came with his thoufands to Ullln ; to aid the red-haired Cairbar : and now he comes to revenge his death, O king of woody Mor- ven. And let him come, replied the king; I love a foe like Cathmor. His foul is great : his arm is ftrong, and his battles are full of fame. I)Ut the little foul is like a vapour that hovers round the marlhy lake: it never rifes on the green hill, left the winds meet it there : its dwelling is in the cave, and it fends forth the dart of death. UsNOTH ! thou haft heard the fame of Etha's car-borne chiefs. Our young heroes, O war- rior. An EPIC POEM. ^65 rior, are like the renown of our fethers. They fight in youth, and they fall: their names are in the fong. But we are old, O Ufnoth, let us not fall like aged oaks ; which the blaft over- turns in fecret. The hunter came paft, and faw them lying gray acrofs a ftream. How have thefe fallen, he faid, and whiftling pafled along. Raise the fong of joy, ye bards of Morvcn, that our fouls may forget the paft. -The red ftars look on us from the clouds, and filently de- fcend. Soon ihall the gray beam of the morn- ing rife, and fhew us the foes of Cormac. Fillan ! take the Tpear of the king; go to Mora's dark-brown fide. Let thine eyes travel over the heath, like flames of fire. Obferve the foes of FIngal, and the courfe of generous Cathmor. I hear a diftant found, like the falling of rocks in the defart. But ftrike thou thy fhield, at times, that they may not come through night, and the fame of Morvcn ceafe. I begin to be alone, my fon,* and I dread the fall of my re- nown. The voice of the bards arofe. The king leaned on the fhield of Trenmor. Sleep de- fcended on his eyes, and his future battles rofe in his dreams. The hoft are fleeping around. Dark-haired Fillan obferved the foe. His fteps are i66 T E M O R Ar are on a diftant hill: we hear, at times, his clanging fhield. One of the Fragments of Ancient Poetry lately pablifhed, gives a different account of the death of Ofcar, the fon of Of- fian. The tranfla'or, though he well knew the more probable tradition concerning that hero, was unwilling to rejeft a poem* which, if not really of Oliian's compofition, has much of his manner, and iTidla. He loved her, in the rage of youth, and rulTied to fcize the white-armed maid. Ca- thulla met the chief. The gloomy battle rofe. Frothal is bound in the hall : three days he pfned alone. On the fourth, Sarno fent him to his Ihip, and he returned to his land. But wrath darkened in his foul againft the noble Ca- thulla. When Annir's flone f of fame arofe, Frothal came in his flrength. The battle burned round Carric-thura, and Sarno's molTy walls. Morning rofe on Iniftore. Frothal ftruck his dark-brown fhield. His chiefs ftarted at the found ; they ftood, but their eyes were turned to the fea. They faw Fingal coming in his flrength ; and firft the noble Thubar fpoke. Who comes like the ftag of the mountain, with all his herd behind him ? Frothal, it is a * Annir was alfo the father of Erragon, who was killed after the death of his brother Frothal. The death of Erragon is the fubjeft of i/je bailie of Lora, a poem in this colleftion. + That is, after the death of Annir. To eredl the ftone of pne's fame, was, in other word^, to fay that the perfpn was dead, foe I A P O E M. 281 foe ; I fee his forward fpear. Perhaps It Is the Icing of Morven, Fingal the firft of men. His ac^tio'ns are well known* on Gormal ; the blood of his foes is in Starno's halls. Shall I afk the peace * of kings ? He is like the thunder of heaven. Son of the feeble hand, faid Frothal, fhall my days begin in darknefs ? Shall I yield before 1 have conquered in battle, chief of ftreamy Tora ? The people would fay in Sora, Frothal flew forth like a meteor ; but the dark cloud met it, and it is no more. No : Thubar, I will never yield ; my fame ihall furround me like light. No : I will never yield, king of flreamy Tora. He went forth with the ftream of his people, but they met a rock : Fingal flood unmoved, broken they rolled back from his fide. Nor did they roll in fafety ; the fpear of the king pur- fued their flight. The field is covered with he- roes. A rifing hill prefervcd the flying hofl. Frothal faw their flight. 1 he rage of his bofom role. He bent his eyes to the ground, and called the noble Ihubar. Thubar ! my people fled. My fame has ccafed to rife. I will fight the king; I feel my burning foul. ^ Honourable tern:s c{ peace. Send 282 CARRIC-THURA:- Send a bard to demand the combat. Speak not againft Frothal's words.- But, Thubar ! I love a maid 5 Ihe dwells by Thano's ftreani, the white-bofomed daughter of Herman, Utha with the foftly -rolling eyes. She feared the daughter * of Iniftore, and her foft fighs rofe, at my de- parture. Tell to Utha that I am low ; but that my foul delighted in her. Such were his words, refolved to fight. But the foft figh of Utha was near. She had followed her hero over the fea, in the armour of a man. She rolled her eye on the youth, in fecret, from beneath a glittering helmet. But now fhe faw the bard as he went, and the fpear fell thrice from her hand. Her loofc hair flew on the wind. Her white breaft rofe, with fighs. She lifted up her eyes to the kingj Ihc would fpeak, but thrice fhe failed. FiNGAL heard the words of the bard j he came in the firength of fieel. They mixed their deathful fpears, and raifed the gleam of their fwords. But the fteel of Fingal defcended and cut Frothal's lliield in twain. His fair fide is expofcd ; half bent he forefees his death. * By the daughter of Ir.iftore, Frothal means Comala, of whofe death Utha probably li!id not heard ; confequer.tly fhe feared that the former paffion of Frothal for Comala might return. Z Darkness A POEM. 289 Darkness gathered on Utha's foul. The tear rolled down her cheek. She rufhed to cover the chief with her fhield ; but a fallen oak met her fteps. She fell on her arm of fnow ; her fhield, her helmet flew wide. Her white bofom heaved to the fight j her dark-brown hair is fpread on earth. FiNGAL pitied the white-armed naaid: he flayed the uplifted fword. The tear was in the eye of the king, as, bending forward, he fpoke. King of flrcamy Sora ! fear not the fword of Fingal. It was never ftained with the blood of the vanquiflied j it never pierced a fallen foe. Let thy people rejoice along the blue waters of Tora : let the maids of thy love be glad. Why fliouldefl thou fall in thy youth, kilig of ftreamy Sora ? Froth A L heard the words of Fingal j, and faw the rifing maid : they * flood in filence, in their beauty : like two young trees 6f the plain, when the fhower of fpring is on their leaves, and the loud winds are laid. Daughter of Herman, faid Frothal, didft thou come from Tora's ftreams ; didft thou come, in thy beauty, to behold thy warrior low ? But he was low _ before the mighty, maid Froihal and Utha. of 284 C A R R I C-T H U R A: of the flow-rolling eye ! The feeble did not overcome the fon of car-borne Annir. Terrible art thou, O king of Morven ! in battles of the fpear. But, in peace, thou art like the fun, when he looks through a filent Ihower : the flowers lift their fair heads before htm ; and the gales fhake their ruftling wings. O that thou wert in Sora ! that my feaft were fprcad ! The future kings of Sora would fee thy arms and re- joice, lliey would rejoice at the fame of their fathers, who beheld the mighty Fingal. Sox of Annir, replied the king, the fame of Sora's race fhall be heard. When chiefs are ftrong in battle, then does the fong arife ! But if their fwords are ftretched over the feeble : if the blood of the wTak has fiained their arms -, the , bard fliall forget them in tlie fong, and their tombs fliall not be known. 'I'he llranger fhall come and build there, and remove the heaped- np earth. An half-worn fword fhall rife before Jiim; and bending above it, he will fay, " Thefe " are the arms of chiefs of old, but their names '* are not in fong." Come thou, O Frothal, to the feafl of Iniftorc ; let the maid of thy love be there j and our faces will brighten with Fingal took his fpear, moving in the fteps of his might. The gates of Carric-thura arc opened. A POEM* ^$ opened. The feaft of ihells is fpread. The yoice of muiic arofe. Gladnefs brightened in the hall. ^The voice of Ullin was heard ; the harp of Selma was ftrung. Utha rejoiced in his prefence, and demanded the fong of grief; the big tear hung in her eye, when the foft * Cri- jrown warrior, f Pingal^ A THOU- A P O E M. - ' 309 A THOUSAND warriors, replied the maid> Wretch their fpears round car-borne Colmar, What cw CalthoH do againft a hoft fo great? Lef us fly to the king of Morven, he will come with battle. His arm is ftretched forth to the unhappy ; the lightning of his fword is round the weak. Arife, thou fon of Rathmor 5 the Ihades of night will fly away. Dunthalmo will behold thy fleps on the field, aiid thou muft fall ' in thy youth. The fighing hero rofej his tears defcend for car-borne Colmar. He came with the maid to Selma's hallj but he knew not that it was Col- mal. The helmet cover'd her lovely face ; and her breafl: rofe beneath the fleel. Fingal re- turned from the chace, and found the lovely firangers. They were like two beams of light, in the midft of the hall. The king heard the tale of grief; and turned his eyes around. A thoufand heroes half-rofe before him; claiming the war of Teutha. I came with my fpear from the hill, and the joy - of battle rofe in my breafl : for the king fpoke to Oflian in the midft of the people. Son of my flrength, he faid, take the fpear of Fingal ; go to Teutha's mighty ftream, and fave the car-borne Colmar. Let thy fame re- turn before thee like a pleafant gale; that my X s foul 310 CALTHON and COLMAL: foul may rejoice over my fon, who renews the renown of our fathers. Offian ! be thou a ftorm in battle ; but mild when the foes are low! It was thus my fame arofe, O my fon; and be thou like Selma's chief. When the haughty come to my halls, my eyes behold them not. But my arm is ftretched forth to the unhappy. My fword defends the weak. I REJOICED in the words of the king: and took my rattling arms. DIaran * rofe at my fide, and Dargo f king of fpears. Three hun- dred * Diaran, father of that Connal who was unfortunately killed by Crimora, his millrefs. t Cargo, the fon of Collath, is celebrated in other poems by Offian. He is faid to have been killed by a boar at a hunting party. The lamentation of his miftrefs, or wife, Mingala, over bis body, is extant ; but whether it is of OlTian's compofition, I cannot determine. It is generally afcribed to him, and has much of his manner ; but fome traditions mention it as an imitation by fome later bard. 'As it has fome poetical merit, I have fub- joinedit. ''T'HE fpoufe of Dargo came in tears : for Dargo was no more! The heroes figh over Lartho's ciiief : and what fhall fad Mingala do? The dark foul vanifhed like morning mift, before the king of fpears : but the generous glowed in his prefencelike the morning flar. Who was the faireft and moft lovely ? Who but Collath's flately fon ? Who fat in the midft of the wife, but Dargo of the mighty deeds ? Thy hand touched the trembling harp : Thy voice was foft as fummer-winds. Ah me ! what fhall the heroes fay? for Dargo fell before a bear. Pale is ihe lovely-cheek ; the look of which W4S A POEM. 311' dred youths followed our fteps : the lovely ftrangers were at my iide. Dunthalmo. heard the found of our approach ; he gathered the firength of Teutha.-r-He ftood on a hill with his hofti they were like rocks broken with thunder, ^ when their bent trees are finged and bare, and the ftreams of tlieir chinks have failed. The jftream of Teutha rolled, in its pride, ; before the gloomy foe. I fent a bard to Dun- - thalmo, to offer the combat on the plain j but he fmiled in the darknefs of his pride. His un-^ fettled hoft moved on the hill ; like the moun-i tain-rcloud, when the blaft has entered its womb,; and fcatters the curling gloom on every fide. They brought Colmar to Teutha's bank, bound with a thoufand thongs. The chief is was firm in danger ! Why haft thou failed on our hills, thou fairer than the beams of the fun ? The daughter of Adonfion was lovely in the eyes of the va- liant; ffie was lovely in their eyes, but (he chofe to be the fpoufe of Dargo. But thou art alone, Mingala! the night is coming with its clouds ; where is the bed of thy repofe ? Where but in the tomb of Dargo ? Why doiT: thou lift the ftone, O bard ! why doft thou fhut the narrow houfe ? Mingala's eyes arc heavy, bard ! She mull flcep with Dars-o. Laft night I heard the fong of joy in Lartho's lofty halK But filence now dwells around my bed. Mingala refts with Dargo. X 4 fad,' ^Ti CALTHON and COLMAL: fad, but lovely, and his eye is on his friends j for we flood, in our arms, on the oppofite bank of Teutha. Dunthalmo came with his fpear, and pierced the hero's fide : he rolled on the t)ank in his blood, and we heard his broken fighs. Calthon ruihed into theflrcam : I bounded forward on my fpear. Teutha's race fell before us. Night came rolling down. Punthalmo xefted on a rock, amidft an aged wood. The rage of his bofom burned againft the car-borne Calthon. But Calthon flood in his grief; he mourned the fallen Colmar; Cohnaar ftain in youth, before his fame arofe. 1 BAPE tlie fong of woe to rife, to fpoth th# mournful chief j but he flood beneath a tree, and often threw his fpear on earth. The humid eye of Colmal rolled near in a fecret tear : flie forefaw the fall of Punthalmo, or of Clutha's battling chief. Now half the night had pafled away. Silence and darknefs were on the field; fleep refled on the eyes of the heroes : Calthon's fettling foul was flill. His eyes were half-clofed; but the murmur of Teutha had not yet failed in his ear. Pale, and fhewing his wounds, the ghoft of Colmar came : he bended his head over the hero, and raifed his feeble voice. Sleeps A ,P O E M. 3tj Sleeps the fon of Rathmor uj his might, aiwl his brother low ? Did we not rife to the chace together, and purfue the dark-brown hiiads? Colmar was not forgot till he fell ; till death had blaffed his youth. I lie pale beneath the rock of Lona. O let Calthon rife! the morning comes with its beams ; and Dunthahno will dif- Konour the fallen. He paffed away in his blaft* The rifing Cal- thon faw the ftcps of his departure. He rufhed in the found of his fteelj and unhappy Colmal rofe. She followed her hero through night, and dragged her fpear behind. But when Calthon came to Lona's rock, he found his fallen bro- therThe rage of his bofom rofe, and he rufhed among the foe. The groans of death afcend. They clofe around the chief. He is bound in the midft, and brought to gloomy Punthalmo. The ihout of joy arofej and the hills of night replied.- I STARTED at the found: and took my fa- ther's fpear. Diaran rofe at my fide ; and tlie youthful ftrength of Dargo. We miffed the chief of Cluthai and our fouls were i^d. I dreaded the departure of my fame ; the pride of my valour rofe. Sons of Morven, I faid, it is not thus our fa- thers fought. They refted not on the field of ftrangers, 314 CALTHON and COI^MAL: Grangers, when the foe did not fall before them, Their ftrength was like the eagles of hea^l ven 5 their renown is in the fong. But our people fall by degrees, and our fame begins to depart. What fhall the king, of Morven fay,. if Oflian conquers not at Teutha? Rife in your fteel, ye warriors, and follow the found of Offian's courfe. He will not. return, but re-, nowned, to the echoing walls of Selma. Morning rofe on the blue waters of Teutha*: Colmal flood before me in tears. She told of the chief of Clutha : and thrice the fpear fell from her hand. My wrath turned againft the* flranger ; for my foul trembled for Calthon. . } Son of the feeble hand, I faid,. doTeutha's warriors fight with tears ? The battle is not woa with grief ; nor dwells ;.the figh in the foul of; war. Go to the deer of Carmun, or the low- ing herds of Teutha. But leave thefe arms, thou fon of fear ; a warrior may lift them in battle. . , . I TORE the mail from her llioulders. Her fnowy breaft appeared. She bent her red face to the ground. I looked in filence to the chiefs. The fpear fell from my hand ; and the figh of my bofom rofe. But when I heard the name of the maid, my crowding tears defcended. I blefled A POEM. 315 I blefTed the lovely beam of youth, and bade the battle move. Why, fon of the rock, fhouIdOflian tell how Teutha's warriors died ? They are now forgot in their land j and their tombs are not found on the heath. Years came on with their tempefts; and the green mounds mouldered away. Scarce is the grave of Dunthalmo feen, or the place where he fell by the fpear of Offian. Some gray warrior, half blind with age, fitting by night at the flaming oak of the hall, tells now my ac- tions to his fons, and the fall of the dark Dun- thalmo. The faces of youth bend fidelong to- wards his voice; furprize and joy burn in their eyes. I FOUND the fon * of Rathmor bound to an oak 5 my fword cut the thongs from his hands. And I gave him the white-bofomed Colmal. - They dwelt in the halls of Teutha^ and Offian returned to Selma. Calthon. L A T H M O N: C 3i6 3 L A T H M O N; A P O E M*. SELMA, thy halls arc filent. There is no found in the woods of Morven. The wave tumbles alone on the coaft. The iilcnt beam of the fun is on the field. The daughters of Mor ven come forth, like the bow of the Ihower 5 they look towards green Ullin for the white fails of the king. He had promifed to return, but the winds of the north arofe. Who pours from the eaftern hill, like a ftrcara of darknefs ? It is the hoft of Lathmpn, He * Lathmon a Britifh prince, taking advantage of Fingal's ab- fence in Ireland, made a defcent on Morven, and advanced within fight of Selma the royal palace. Fingal arrived in the mean time, and Lathmor retreated to a hill, where his army was furprifed by night, and himfelf taken prifoner by Offian and Gaul the fon of Morni. This exploit bf Gaul and Offian bears a near refemblance to the beautiful epifode of Nifus and Euryalui In Virgil's ninth ^neid. The poem opens, with the firft ap- pearance of Fingal on the coaft of Morven, and ends, it may be fuppofed, about noon the next day. The firft paragraph is in a. lyric meafure, and appears to have been fung, of old, to the harp, as a prelude to the narrative part of the poem, which i in heroic weik has A ? O E M. 317 has heard of the abfence of Fingal. He trufts in the wind of the nortli. His foul brightens with joy. Why doft thou come, Lathmon ? The mighty are not in Selma. Why comeft thou with thy forward fpear ? Will fhe daughters of Morven fight ? But Hop, O mighty ftream, in thy courfe ! Does not Lathmon behold thefc fails ? Why doft thou vanifh, Lathmbn; like ^c mift of the lake ? But the fqually ftorm Is behind thee ; Fingal purfues thy fteps ! ' The king of Morven i^arted from lleep, as we rolled on the dark-blue wave. He ftretched his hand to his fpear, and his heroes rofe around. We knew that he had feen his fathers, for they often defcended to his dreams, when the fword of the foe rofe over the land -, and the battle darkened before us. WftiTH^R haft thou fled, O wind, faid the king of Morven ? Doft thou xuftle In the chambers pf the fouth, and purfue the fhower in other lands ? Why doft thou not come to my fails ? to the blue face of my feas ? The foe is in the iand of Morven, and the king is abfent. But let each bind on his mail, and each aflume Ws (hield. Stretch every fpear over the wave ; let every fword be unlheathed. Lathmon * is * It is laid, by tradition, that it was the intelligence 6f Lathrmn^s invafion, that bccafioned Fingars return from Ire- land ; though CHTian, hidre |)OetJcally, Stfoibes the caufe of Fm- g4r knowledge to his dreaoir before ^i8 L A T H M O N: before us with his hoft : he that fled * from Fin- gal on the plains of Lona. But he returns, like a collected ftream, and his roar is between our Bills. Such were the words of Fingal. We rulhed into Carmona's bay. Offian afcended the hill ; and thrice ftruck his bofly fhield. The rock of Morven replied; and the bounding roes came forth. The foes were troubled in my prefence i and colleded their darkened hoft ; for I ftoodj like a cloud on the hill, rejoicing in the arms of my youth. MoRNi ! fat beneath a tree, at the roaring waters of Strumon + : his locks of age are gray : he leans forward on his flaff ; young Gaul is near the hero, hearing the battles of his youth. Often did he rife, in the fire of his foul, at the mighty deeds of Morni. The aged heard the found of Oflian's fhield : he knew the fign of battle. He ftarted at once * He alludes to a battle wherein Fingal had defeated Latk- mon. The occafion of this firft war, between thofe heroes, is told by Offian in another poem, which the tranflator has feen. f Morni was chief of a numerous tribe, in the days of Fingal and his father Comhal. The laft mentioned hero was killed in batde againft Morni's tribe ; but the valour and conduft of Fin- gal reduced them, at lail, to obedience. We find the two he- roes perfedtly reconciled in this poem. % Stru'-mone, fiream of the hill. Here ' the proper name of a rivulet in the neighbourhood of Selma. from ^-:^' P 6 E M. 319 from his place. His gray hair parted on his back. He remembers the anions of other years. My fon,-he faid to fair-haired Gaul, I hear the found of battle. The king of Morven is returned, the lign of war is heard. Go to the halls of Strumon, and bring his arms to Mornl. Bring the arms which my father wore in his age, for my arm begins to fail. Take thou thy ar- mour, O Gaul ; and rufh to the firft of thy bat- tles. Let thine arm reach to the renown oi thy fathers. Be thy courfe in the field, like the eagle's wing. Why fhouldft thou fear death, my fon ! the valiant fall with fame; their Ihields turn the dark ftream of danger away, and-ce- nown dwells on their gray hairs, Doft thou not fee, O Gaul, how the fteps of my age are ho- noured ? Morni moves forth, and the young meet him, with reverence, and turn their ey^ with filent joy, on his courfe. But I never fled from danger, my fon ! my fword lightened through the darknefs of battle. The Itranget melted before me j the mighty were blafted in my prefcnce. ^'^'-i Gaul brought the arms to Morni>: the aged warrior covered himfclf with ftecl.- He took the fpear in his hand, which was often ftained with the blood of the valiant. He came towards Fingal, his fon attended his flops. The 8 * foa |2a L A T H M O Ni fon of Cooihfll rejoiced over the warrior, whem he Game in the iocksorf his age. KiJJG of the roaring Strumon! faid therlfing* jof of Fiflgal ; atnrxw, ~k>5 ore ^jvov IV )eoiio. irorry. HoM. Od. V. 280, Then fvveird to fight Phajacia's dufky coail. And woody mountains half in vapours loft ; That lay before him indiftindl and vaft. Like a broad fhield amid the watry wafte, Tfoni-thdn, heavy or deep-founding ivave. 7 Paughter 338 O I T H O N Ar Daughter of Nuath, faid the hero, why doft thou fly from Gaul ? Do my eyes fend forth the flame of death ? Or darkens hatred in my foul ? Thou art to me the beam of the eaft rifmg in a land unknown. But thou covereft thy face with fadnefs, daughter of high Dunlathmon ! Is the foe of Oithona near ? My foul burns to meet him in battle. The fword trembles on the fide of Gaul, and longs to glitter in his hand. Speak, daughter of Nuath, doft thou not behold my tears? Car-borne chief of Strumon, replied the fighing maid, why comeft thou over the dark- blue wave to Nuath's mournful daughter ? Why did I not pafs away in fecret, like the flower of the rock, that lifts its fair head unfeen, and firows its withered leates on the blaft ? Why didft thou come, O Gaul, to hear my departing figh ? I pafs away in my youth j and my name flialltiot be heard. Or it will be heard with forrow, and the tears of Nuath will fall. Thou wilt be fad, fon of Morni, for the fallen fame of Oithona. But fhe fhall fleep in the narrow tomb, far from the voice of the mourner. Why didfl: thou come, ohief of Strumon, to the fea-beat rocks of Tromathon. I CAME to meet thy foes, daughter of car- borne Nuath ! the death of Cuthal's chief dar- kens A P O E Mi ^39 kens before me ; or Morni's fon fliall fall. - Oithona ! when Gaul is low, raife my tomb oil that oozy rock j and when the dark-bounding Ihip Ihall pafs, call the fons of the fea; call them, and give this fword, that they may carry it to Morni's hall j that the gfey-haired hero may ceafe to look towards the defart for the re* turn of his fon. And Ihall the daughter* of Nuath live, Ihe te- plied with a burfting figh ? Shall I lire in Tro- mathon, and the fon of Morni low? My heart is not of that rock ; nor my foul carelefs as that fea, which lifts its blue waves to every wind, and rolls beneath the ftorm. The blaft which fhall lay thee low, fhall fpread the branches of Oi- thona on earth. We fhall wither together, fon of car-borne Morni ! The narrow houfe is pleafant to me, and the gray ftone of the dead : for never more w'.ll I leave thy rocks, fea-fur- rounded Tromathon! Night * came on with her clouds, after the departure of Lathmon, when he went to the wars of his fathers, to the mofs-covered rock of Duthormoth ; night came on, and I fat in the hall, at the beam of the oak. The wind was abroad in the trees. I heard the found of arms. Joy rofe in my face ; * Oithona relates how flie was carried away by Dunrommath. Z 2 for 340 O I T H O N A: for 1 thought of thy return. It was the chief of Cuthal, the red-haired ftrength of Dunrommath. His eyes rolled in fire : the blood of my people was on his fword. They who defended Oithona ' fell by the gloomy chief. What could 1 do ? My arm was weak ; it could not lift the fpear. He took me in my grief, amidft my tears he raifed the fail. He feared the returning ftrength of Lathmon, the brother of unhappy Oithona. But behold, he comes with his people ! the dark wave is divided before him ! Whither wilt thou turn thy fteps, fon of Morni? Many are the warriors of Dunrommath ! My ftcps never turned from battle, replied the hero, as he unlheathed his fword ; and fhall I begin to fear, Oithona, when thy foes are near ? Go to thy cave, daughter of Nuath, till our battle ceafe. Son of Leth, bring the bows of our fathers ; and the founding quiver af Morni. Let our three warriors bend the yew. Ourfclves will lift the fpear. They are an hoft on the rock; but our fouls are ftrong. ' The daughter of Nuath went to the cave : a troubled joy rofe on her mind, like the red path of the lightning on a ftormy cloud. Her foul was refolved, and the tear was dried from her wildly-iooking eye. Dunrommath flowly ap- proached ; for he faw the fon of Morni. Con- tempt A P O E M. 341 tempt contracted his face, a fmile Is on his dark-brown cheek ; his red eye rolled, half- conceal'd, beneath his Ihaggy brows. Whence are the fons of the fea, begun the gloomy chief? Have the winds driven you to the rocks of Tromathon ? Or come you in fearch of the white-handed daughter of Nuath ? The fons of the unhappy, ye feeble men, come to the hand of Dunrommath. His eyes fpares not the weak ; and he delights in the blood of Grangers. Oithona is a beam of light, and the chief of Cuthal enjoys it in fecret ; would thou come on its lovelinefs like a cloud, fon of the feeble hand ! Thou mayft come, but Ihalt thou return to the halls of thy fathers ? Dost thou not know me, faid Gaul, red- haired chief of Cuthal ? Thy feet were fwlft on the heath, in the battle of car-borne Lathmon ; when the fword of Morni's fon purfued his hoft, in Morven's woody land. Dunrommath ! thy words are mighty, for thy warriors gather be- hind thcc. But do I fear them, fon of pride ? I am not of the race of the feeble, Gaul advanced in his arms; Dunrommath fhrunk behind his people. But the fpear of Gaul pierced the gloomy chief, and his fword lopped off his head, as it'bended in death. The fon of Morni Ihook it thrice by the lock ; Z 3 the. 342 O I T H O N A J the warriors of Dunrommath fled. The arrows of Morven purfued them : ten fell on the mofly rocks. The refl: lift the founding fail, and bound on the echoing deep. Gaul advanced towards the cave of Oithona, He beheld a youth leaning againft a rock. An arrow had pierced his lide ; and his eye rolled faintly beneath his helmet. The foul of Morni's fon is fad, he came ajid fpoke the words of peace. Can the hand of Gaul heal thee, youth of the mournful brow ? I have fearched for the herbs, of the mountains ; I have gathered them on the fecrct banks of their ftreams. My hand has clafed the wound of the valiant, and their eyes have blcffed the fon of Morni. Where dwelt thy fathers, warrior ? Were they of the fons of the mighty? Sadnefs fhall come, like night, on thy native flreams ; for thou art fallen in thy youth. My fathers, replied the ftranger, were' of the fons of the mighty ; but they fhall not be fad ; for my fame is departed like morning mift. High walls rife on the banks of Duvranna j and fee their molTy towers in the ftream ; a rock af- cends behind them with its bending firs. Thou may ft behold it far dubnt. There my brother dwblls. A P O E M. 343 dwells. He Is renowned in battle: give him this glittering helmet. The helmet fell from the hand of Gaul j for it was the wounded Oithona. She had armed herfelf in the cave, and came in fearch of death. Her heavy eyes are half clofed ; the blood pours from her lide.-^ ^ Son of Morni, fhe faid, prepare the narrow tomb. Sleep comes, like a cloud, on my foul. The eyes of Oithona are dim. O had I dwelt at Duvranna, in the bright beam of my fame ! then had my years come on with joy ; and the virgins would blefs my fteps. But I fall in youth, fon of Morni, and my father ihall blufli in his hall. Sh e fell pale on the rock of Tromathon. The mournful hero raifed her tomb. He came to Morven ; but we faw the darknefs of his foul. Oflian took the harp in the praife of Oithona. The brightnefs of the face of Gaul returned. But his figh rofe, at times, in the midft of his friends, like blafls that Ihake their unfrequent wings, after the ftormy winds are laid. Z 4 C R O M A ; [ 344 ] R O M A: A POEM* IT was the voice of my love ! few arc his vifits to the dreams of Malvina ! Open your airy halls, ye fathers of mighty Tofcar. Un- fold the gates of your clouds , the fteps of Mai- * Malvina the daughter of Tofcar is overheard by Oflian la- menting the death of Ofcar her lover. Offian, to divert her grief, relates his own aftions in an expedition which he under- took, at Fingal'.-^ command, to aid Crothar the petty king of Croma, a country in Ireland, aga nfl Rothmar who invaded his dominions. The ftory is delivered down thus, in tradition. Crothar king of Croma being blind with age, and his fon too young for the field, Hothmar the chief of Tromlo refolved tp avail himfelf of the opportunity offered of annexing the domi- nions Qf Crothar to his own. He accordingly marched into the country fubjcft to Crothar, but which he held of Arth or Artho, who was, at the time, fupreme king of Ireland. Crothar being, on account of his age and blindnefs, unfit for adlicn. fent for aid to Fingal king of Scotland ; who ordered his fon Offian to the relief of Crothar. But before his arrival Fovar- gormo, the fon of Crothar, attacking Rothmar, was flain him- felf, and his forces totally defeated. Offian renewed the war; c^me, to battle, killed Rothmar, and routed his army, Ctoiosl lsing thus delivered of its enemies, OlTian returned to Scotland. yina's A P O E M. 345 vina's departure are near. I have heard a voice in my dream. I feel the fluttering of my foul. Why didft thou come, O blaft, from the dark- rolling of the lake ? Thy ruftling wing was in the trees, the dream of Majyina departed. But Ihe beheld her love, when his robe of mift flew on the wind j the beam of the fun vras on his ikirts, they glittered like the gold of the Gran- ger. It was the voice of my love ! few are his vifits to my dreams ! But thou dwclleft in the foul of Malvina, fon of mighty Oilian. My fighs arife with the beam of the eaft j my tears dcfcend with the drops of night. I was a lovely tree, in thy pre- fence, Ofcar, with all my branches round me; but thy death came like a blall: from the defart, and laid my green head low; the fpring re- turned with its fhowers, but no leaf of mine arofe. The virgins faw me filent in the hall, and they touched the harp of joy. The tear w:^s on the cheek of Malvina : the virgins beheld me in my grief. Why art thou fad, they faidj thou firft of the maids of Lutha ? Was he lovely as the beam of the morning, and ftatcly in thy fight ? Pleasant is thy fongin Oflian's ear, daugh- ter of ftreamy Lutlia ! Thou haft heard the mufic pf departed bards in the dream of thy reft, when 34^ C R O M A: when fleep fell on thine eyes, at the mutmur of Moruth *, When thou didft return from the ehace, in the day of the fun, thou haft heard the mufic of the bards, and thy fong is lovely. It is lovely, O Malvina, but it melts the foul. There is a joy in grief when peace dwells in the breaft of the fad. But forrow waftes the mourn- ful, O daughter of Tofcar, and their days arc few. They fall away, like the flower on which the fun looks in his ftrength after the mildew hat paiTed over it, and its head is heavy with the drops of night. Attend to the tale of Offian, O maid ; he remembers the days of his youth. The king commanded; I raifed my fails, and rullied into the bay of Croma; into Croma's founding bay in lovely Innis-fail f*. High on the coaft arofe the towers of Crothar king of fpears ; Crothar renowned in the battles of his youth j but age dwelt then around the chief. Rothmar raifed the fword againft the hero ; and the wrath of Fingal burned. He fent OfTian to meet Rothmar in battle, for the chief of Croma was the companion of his youth. I SENT the bard before me with fongs; I came into the hall of Crothar. There fat the hero Mor'-ruth, great ftream. t Innis-fail, One of the ancient names of Ireland. amldf^ A POEM. 347 amldft the arms of his fathers, but his eyes had failed. His gray locks waved around a ftaif, on which the warrior leaned. He hummed the fong of other times, when the found of our arms reached his ears. Crothar rofe, ftretched his aged hand, and blelTed the fon of Fingal. . OssiAN ! faid the hero, the ftrength of Cro- thar's arm has failed. O could I lift the fword, as on the day that Fingal fought at Strutha ! He was the firft of mortal men ; but Crothar had alfo his fame. The king of Morven praifed me, and he placed on my arm the bolTy fliield of Calthar, whom the hero had flain in war. Doft thou not behold it on the wall, for Crothar's eyes have failed? Is thy ftrength, like thy fa- thers, Oilian ? let the aged feel thine arm. I GAVE my arm to the king; he feels it with his aged hands. The (igh rofe in his breaft, and his tears defcended. Thou art ftrong, my fon,. he faid, but not like the king of Morven. But who is like that hero among the mighty in war ! Let the feaft of my halls be fpread ; and let my bards raife the fong. Great is he that is within my walls, fons of echoing Croma 1 The feaft is fpread. The harp is heard; and joy is in the hall. But it was joy covering a figh, that darkly dwelt in every breaft. It was like the faint beam of the moon fpread on a cloud 34^ C R O M A: cloud in heaven. At length the mufic ceafed, and the aged king of Croma fpoke ; he fpokc without a tear, but the figh fwelled in the midft of his voice. Son of Fingal! doft thou not behold the darknefs of Crothar's hall of fhells ? My foul was not dark at the feaft, when my people lived. I rejoiced in the prefence of ftrangers, when my fon fhone in the hall. But, Ofhan, he is a beam that is departed, and left no ftreak of light be- hind. He is fallen, fon of Fingal, in the bat- tles of his father. Rothmar the chief of grafly Tromlo heard that my eyes had failed j he heard that my arms were fixed in the hall, and the pride of his foul arofe. He came to- wards Croma ; my people fell before him. I took my arms in the hall, but what could fight- lefs Crothar do ? My ftcps were unequal ; my grief was great. I wiiTied for the days that were paft. Days! wherein I fought; and conquered in the field of blood. My fon returned from the chace; the fair-liaired Fovar-gormo "*. He had not lifted his fword in battle, for his arm was young. But the foul of the youth was great; the fire of valour burnt in his eyes. He faw the difordered ilcps of his father, and his figh arofe, Faobhar gorm, the blue point efJJeel. King A POEM. 549 King of Croma, he faid, is it becaufe thou haft no fon ; is it for the weaknefs of Fovar-gorma*s arm that thy fighs arife? 1 begin, my father, to feel the ftrength of my arm ; I have drawn the fword of my youth ; and I have bent the bow. Let me meet this Rothmar, with the youths of Croma : let me met him, O my fa- ther ; for I feel my burning foul. And thou fhalt meet him, I faid, fon of the . fightlefs Crothar ! Bat let others advance before thee, that I may hear the tread of anner, and adopted fome of his expreflions. The ftory- of it is this. Five bards, pafling the night in the houfe of a chief, who was a poet himfelf, went feverally to make their obfervations on, and returned with an extempore defcription of, night. The night happened to be one in Oftober, as appears from the poem; and in the north of Scotland, it has all that variety which the bards afcribe to it, in their defcriptions. First Bard. "VT IGHT is dull and dark. The clouds reft on the hills. Ncf ^^ ftar with green trembling beam ; no moon looks from tlie flty. I hear the blaft in the wood j but I hear it diftant far< The flream of the valley murmurs ; but its murmur is fullen and fad. From the tree at the grave of the dead the long-howling owl is heard. I fee a dim form on the plain ! It is a ghoft ! it fades it flies. Some funeral fliall pafs this way : the meteor marks the path. The dillant dog is howling from the hut of the hill. The (lag lies on the mountain mofs : the hind^s at his fide. She hears the wind in his branchy herns. She ftarts, but lies again. The roe is in the cleft of the rock ; the heath-cocks head is beneath his wing. No beart, no bird is abroad, but the ov/1 and the howling fox. She on a leaflefs tree : he in a cloud on the hilL Dark, panting, trembling, fad the traveller has loft his way. Through Ihrubs, through thorns, he goes, along the gurgling 6 ri. A P O E M. 351 of Offian ; they poured forth their burning fouls, and the harp anfwered to their voice. The joy of Croma was great : for peace re- turned to the land. The night came on with iilence, rill. He fears the rock and the fen. He fears the ghoft of night. The old tree groans to the blaft ; the falling branch re- founds. The wind drives the withered burs, clung together, along the grafs. It is the light tread of a ghoft ! He trembles amidft the night. Dark, dulky, howling is night, cloudy, windy, and full of ghofts! The dead are abroad! my friends, receive me from the night. Second Bard. The wind is up. The fhower defcends. The fpirit of the mountain fhrieks. Woods fall from high. Windows flap. The growing river roars. The traveller attempts the ford. Hark that fliriek ! he dies : The ftorm drives the horfe from the hill, the goat, the lowing cow. They tremble as drives the fhower, befide the mouldering bank. The hunter ftarts from fleep, in his lonel" hut ; he wakes the fire decayed. His wet dogs fmokc around him. He fills the chinks with heath. Loud roar two mountain fireams which meet befide his booth. Sad on the fide of a hill the wandering Ihepherd fits. The tree rcfounds above him. The flream roars down the rock. He waitb for the rifing moon to guide him to his home. Ghofts ride on the ftorm to-night. Sweet is their voice be- tween the fqualls of wind. Their fongs are of other worlds. The rain is paft. The dry wind blows. Streams roar,, and windows flap. Cold drops fall from the roof. I fee the ftarry flcy. But the fliower gathers again. The weft is gloomy and dark. Night is ftormy and difmal ; receive me, my friends, from night. Third 352 C R O M A: filence, and the morning returned with joy; No foe came in darknefs, with his glittering fpear. The joy of Croma was great ; for the gloomy Rothmar was fallen. I RAISED Third Bard. The wind ftill founds between the hills : and whiftles through the grafs of the rock. The firs fall from their place- The turfy hut is torn. The clouds, divided, fly over the Iky, and fhew the burning ftars. The meteor, token of death ! flies fparkling through the gloom. It refts on the hill. I fee the withered fern, the dark-browed rock, the fallen oak. Who is that in his flirowd beneath the tree, by the ftream ? The waves dark-tumble on the lake, and lafh its rocky fides. The boat is brimful in the cove ; the oars on the rocking tide. A maid fits fad befide the rock, and eyes the rolling flream. Her lover promifed to come. She faw his boat, when yet it was light, on the lake. Is this his broken boat on the fhore ? Are thefe his groans on the wind ? Hark! the hail rattles around. The flaky fnow defcends. The tops of the hills are white. The flormy winds abate. Va- rious is the night and cold; receive me, my friends, from night. Fourth Bard. Night is calm and fair ; blue, flarry, fettled is night. The winds, with the clouds, are gone. They fink behind the hill. The moon is up on the mountain. Trees glitter : flreams fhine on the rock. Bright rolls the fettled lake ; bright the ftream of the vale. I fee the trees overturned; the fhocks of corn on the plain. The wakeful hind rebuilds the fhocks, and whiftles on the dif- tant field. Calm, fettled, fair is night! Who comes from the place of the dead ? That form with the robe of fnow; white arms and dark-brown hair ! It is the daughter of the chief of the people; fhe A t O E M. 353 I RAISED my voice for Fovar-gormo, when they laid the chief in earth. . The aged Crothar was there, but his figh was not heard. He fearched flie that lately fell ! Come, let us view thee, O maid ! thou that h^ft been the delight of heroes ! The blaft drives the phantom away ; white, without form, it afcends the hill. The breezes drive the blue mift, flowly over the narrow vale. It rifes on the hill, and joins its head to heaven. Night is fet- tled, calm, blue, ftarry, bright with the moon. Receive me not, my friends, for lovely is the night. ^ Fifth Bard. Night is calm, but dreary. The moon is in a cloud in the weft. Slow moves that pale beam along the fhaded hill. The diflant wave is heard. The torrent murmurs on the rock. The cock is heard from the booth. More than half the night ispaft. The houfe-wife, groping in the gloom, rekindles the fettled fire. The hunter thinks that day approaches, and calls his bounding dogs. He afcends the hill aqd whiltles on his way, A blall re- moves the cloud. He fees the ftarry plough of the north. Much of the night is to pafs. He nods by the mofly rock. Hark ! the whirlwind is in the wood ! A low murmur in the vale ! It is the mighty army of the dead returning from the air. The moon refts behind the hill. The beam is ftill on that lofty rock. Long are the fliadows of the trees. Now it is dark over all. Night is dreary, filent, and dark J receive me, my friends, from night. The Chief, Let clouds reft on the hills : fpirits fly and travellers fear. Le^ the winds of the woods arife, the founding ftorms dcfcend. Roar ftrcams and windows flap, and green winged meteors fly ; rife the pale moon from behind her hills, or indofe her head ir\ .^ a cloudb i J54 C K. O M A: fearched for the wound of his fon, and found It in his breaft. Joy rofe in the face of the aged, Jle came and fppke to Qffian. King of fpears ! he faid, my fon has not fallen without his fame. The young warrior did not fly ; but met death, as he went forward in his flrength. Happy are they who die in youth, wheii their renown is heard ! The feeble will not behold them in the hall ; or fmile at their trembling hands. Their memory Ihall be honoured in the fongj the young tear of the virgin falls. But the aged wither away, by de-r grees, and the fame of their youth begins to be forgot, They fall \n fecret j the figh of theijj clouds ; night is alike to me, blue, ftormy, or gloomy the fky. Night flies before the beam, when it is poured on the hill. The young day returns from his cloud?, but we return no more. VN'here are our fhiefs of old? Where our ki^igs of mighty jiame ? The fields of their battles arc filent. Scarce their mofTy tombs remain. We fhall alfo be forgot. This lofty houfe fhall fall. Our fons fhall not behold the ruins in grafs. They {haU ^Ik of the aged, " Where flood the walls of our fathers ?" Raife the fong, and flrike the harp ; fend round the fhells of joy. Sufpend a hundred tapers on high. Youths and maids be-: gin the dance. Let fome gray bard be near me to tell the deed^ of other times; of kings renowned in our land, of chiefs we be- hold no more. Thus let the night pafs until morning fhall ap- pear in our halls. Then let the bow be at hand, the dogs, the youths of the chace. We fhall afcerid the hilj with day; an(J awake ihe dgef, A POEM. 355 fon Is not heard. Joy is around their tomb j and the ^one of their ifame is placed wljthout a tear. 'liappy are they who die in youth/ "wherr their renown is around them ! Aa> BERRA- C 356 3 BERRATHON A P O E M*. BEN P thy blue courfe, O ftream, round the parrow plain of Lutha-f, Let the green woods ha:pig over it from their mountains ; and the fun look on it at noon. The thiftle i^ there * This poem is reputed to have been compofed by Offian, a Jittle time before his death ; and confequently it is known in tradition by no other name than Ojfian's laji hymn. The tranf- lator has taken the liberty to call it Berrathon, from the epifode concerning the re-eftablifhment of Larthmor king of thatifland, after he had been dethroned by his own fon Uthal. Fingal in his voyage to Lochlin [Fing. B. III.] whither he had been in- vited by Stamo the father of Agandecca, fo often pientioned in Oflian's f oems, touched at Berrathon, an ifland of Scandinavia, where he vvas kindly entertained by Larthmor the petty king of the place^ who was a vaffal of the fupreme kings of Lochlin. The hofpitality of Larthmor gained him Fingal'? friendftiip,, which that hero manifefted, after the imprifonment of Larthmor by his own fon, by fending Offian and Tofcar, the father of Malvina fo often mentioned, to refcue Larthmor, and to puniili the unnatural behaviour of Uthal. Uthal was handfome to a proverb, and confequently much admired by the ladies. Nina- tkoma the beautiful daughter of Torthoma, a neighbouring prince, fell in love and fled with him. He proved unconflant ; for anothtr lady, vvhoie name is not mentioned, gaining his af- feiSlons, he confined Nina-thoma to a defart ifland near the coaft -f A P a E Mi i^f there on its rocki and fhakes its beard to the wind. The flower hangs its heavy head, waving^ at times, to the gale. Why doft thou awake mej O gale, it feems to fay, I am covered with the drops of heaven ? The time of my fading is near, and the blaft that ihall fcatter my leaves* To-morrow fhall the traveller come, he that favr jne in niy beauty Ihall come; his eyes will fearch the field, but they will not find me ? So Ihall they fearch in vain, for the voice of of Berrathon. She was relieved by Ofliari, who, in company with Tofcar, landing on Berrathon, defeated the forces of Uthal, and killed him in a fingle combat. Nina-thoma, who(e loveiiot all the bad behaviour of Uthal could erafe, hearing of his death, died of grief. In the mean time Larthmor is reftored^ ajid Offian and Tofcar returned in triumph to f ingal. The prefent poem Opens with an elegy on the death of Mal- vina the daughter of Tofcar, and clofes with prefages of the poet's death. It is almoft altogether in a lyric meafure, and ha* that melancholy air which diftinguifhes the remains of the worki of Offian. If ever he compofed any thing of a merry turil it is long fmce loft. The ferious and melancholy make the mod lafl> ing impreffions on the human mind, and bid faireft for being tranfmitted from generation to generation by tfaditidn. Nor ii it probable that Offian dealt much in chearful compofition. Me- lancholy is fo much the companion of a great genius, that it is difficult to feparate the idea of levity from chearfulnefs, which is fometimes the mark of an amiable difpofiiion, but never the chai raiSlcriltic of elevated parts. f hatha, /ni'i/f /ireaf/t. It is Impoffible, at this diflance of time, to afcertain where the fcene here dcfcribed lies. Tradition is filent on that head, and there. is nothing in the poeifl from f^hich a conjedure can be drawn. A a 3 Cona, 3^$ B ERR AT HON:. Cona, after it has foiled in the field. The htin- ter Ihall come forth in the morning, and the voice of my harp fhall not be heard. " Where " is the fon of car-borne Fingal?" The tear will be on his oheek. Then come thou, O Malvina *, with all thy mufic, come ; lay Oflian in the plain of Lutha :' let his tomb rife in the lovely field. Malvina ! where art thou, with thy fongs : with the foft found of thy fteps? Son f of Alpin art thou- near ? where is the daughter of Tofcar ? I PASSED, O fon of Fin gal, by Tar-lutha's mofly walls. The fmoke of the hall was ceafed : filence was among the trees of the hill. The voice of the chace was over, I faw the daugh- ters of the bow. I afked about Malvina, but they anfwered not. They turned their faces away : thin darknefs covered their beauty- Thcy were like ftars, on a rainy hill, by night, each looking faintly through her mift. Pleasant X be thy reft, O lovely beam! foon haft thou fet on our hills ! The fteps of thy Mal-mhina, yi/t or lovely brow. Mh in the Galic language has the fame found with ni in Englifh. t Tradition has not handed down the name of this fon of Al- j^'^' His father was one of Fingal's principal bards, and he ap- pears himfelf to have had a poetical genius. X Offian fpeaks. He calls Malvina a beam of light, and con- tinues the metaphor throughout the paragraph, % departure departure were flately, like the moon on thef blue, trembling wave. But thou haft left us in darknefs, firft of the maids of Lutha ! We lit, at the rock, and there is no voice ; no light but the nieteor of fire ! Soon haft thou fet, Malvinaj daughter of generous Tofcar ! But thdu rifeft like the beam of the eaft^ among the fpirits of thy friends, where they fit in their ftomiy halls, the chambers of the ihun' det: '^ A cloud hovers over Cona: its blud curling fides are high. The winds are beneath it, v^hh their Wings ; within it is the dwelling * of Fingal. There the hero fits in darknefs ; his* airy fpear is in his hand. His fhield half covered with clouds, is like the darkened moon ; when one half ftill remains in the wave, and the othex* looks fickly on the field. Hiis friends fit around the king, on mift ; afid hear the fongs of Ullin : he ftrikes the half- view lefs harp J and raifes the feeble voice. The leiTer heroes, with a thoufand meteors, light thd airy hall. Malvina rifes, in the midft ; a bluftl i The defcription of this ideal palace of Finoal is very poeti- cal, and agreeable to the notions of thofe times, concerning the flate of the deceafed, who were fuppofed to purfue, after death, the plcafores and employments of their former life. The' ijtuation of Cflian's heroes, m their feparate (late, if not entirely happy, is more agreeable, than the notions of the ancieni Greeks concemiug their departed heroes. See Horn. Odyff. 1. 1 1 . Aa4 a 36o B E R R A T H O N: is on her cheek. She beholds the unknown faces of her fathers, and turns afide hef humid eyes. Art thou come fo foon, faid Fingal, daugh- ter of generous Tofcar ? Sadnefs dwells in the halls of Lutha. My aged fon * is fad. I hear the breeze of Cona, that was wont to lift thy heavy locks. It comes to the hall, but thou art not there ; its voice is mournful among the arms of thy fathers. Go with thy ruftling wing, O breeze ! and figh on Malvina's tomb. It rifes yonder beneath the rock/ at the blue ilream of Lutha. The maids f' are departed to their place j and thou alone, O breeze, mourneft there. But who comes from the dufky weft, fup- pojrted on a cloud ? A fmile is on his gray, wa- try face ; hiS locks of mift fly on the wind : he bends forward on his airy fpear : it is thy fa- ther, Malvina! Why fhineft thou, fo foon, on our clojLids, he fays, O lovely light of Lutha I -But, thou wert fad, my daughter, for thy friends, ,:Were palTed away. The fons of little * Offian ; who had a great friendfliip for Malvina, both on account of her love for his fon Ofcar, and her attention to his own poems. f- That is, the young virgins who fung the funeral elegy over her tomb. meo A P O E M. ^6i men * were in the hall ; and none remained of the heroes, but Offian king of fpears. And doft thou remember Offian, car-borne Tofcar f fon of Conloch ? The battles of our youth were many ; our fwords went together to the field. They faw us coming like two falling rocks ; and the fons of the firanger fled. There come the warriors of Cona, they faid j their fteps are in the paths of the vanquifhed. Draw near, fon of Alpin, to the fong of the aged. The a<^ions of other times are in my foul : my memory beams on the days that are pafl. On the days of the mighty Tofcar, when our path was in the deep. Draw near, fon of Alpin, to the lafl found ^ of the voice of Cona. The king of Morven commanded, and I raifed my fails to the wind. Tofcar chief of Offian, by way of difrefpeft, calls thofe, who fucceeded the heroes whofe aftions he celebrates, ti>e fim of little men. Tra- dition is entirely filent concerning what pafTed in the north, im mediately after the death of Fingtl and all his heroes j bat It ap* pears from that term of ignominy juft mentioned, that tWac^ tions Qf their fucceHbrs were not to be compared to thoie of the renowned Fingalians, t Tofcar was the fon of that Conloch, who was atfo father lo the lady, whofe unfortunate death is related in the laft cpifoJc of the fecond book of Fingal, X Offian fecms to incim ate By this expreffion, that this poem was the laft of h^s compoficion ; fo that there is fome foundation ioi the traditional title of the lajl hjmn of OJJiiHt, Lutha 3^* BEiRATHO^f Lutha; flood at my fide, as I rofe on the dark-*' blue wave. Our cdurfe was tb fea-furrounded ^errathon *, the ilte of maiiy ftorms. Th^re dweh, with his locks of age, the flafely ftrength of Larthmor. Larthmor who fpVeld the feaft of Hiells to Comhal's mighty fon, when he Went to Starno's halls, in the days of Agandecca.' But when the chief was old, the pride of his fon arofe, the pride of fair- haired Uthal, the love of' ^ thoufand maids. He bound the aged Larth- mor, and dwelt in his founding halls. Long pined the king in his cave, befide hi^ rolling fea. Morning did not come to his dwelling ; nor the burning oak by night. But the wind of ocean Was there, and the parting beam of the moon. The red ftar looked on the king, when it trembled on the weftern wave. Snitho came to Sclma*s hall : Snitho companion of Larthmor's youth. He told of the king of Berrathon : the wrath of Fingal rofe. Thrice l)e afTumcd the fpear, refolved to ftretch his hand to Uthal. But the memory t* of his ac- Barrathon, a promontory in the midft of nvaves. The poet gives it the epithet of fea-furrounded, to preyent its being takea for a peninfula in the literal fenfe. f The meaning of the poet is, that Fingal remembered hij own great aftions, and confequently would not fully them by en- gaging in a petty war againft Uthal, who was ie far his inferior in valour and power. ' tion^ A POEM. $^3 tlons rofe before the king, and he fent his fon and Tofcar. Our joy was great on the roll- ing feaj and we often half unfheathed out fwords *. For never before had we fought alone, in the battles of the fpear. Night came down on the ocean ; the winds departed on their wings- Cold and pale is the moon. The red ftars lift* their heads. Our courfe is flow along the coafi of Berrathon j the white waves tumble on the rocks. What voice is that, faid Tofcar, which comes between the founds of the waves ? It is foft but mournful, like the voice of departed bards. But I behold the maid f, Ihe fits on the rock alone. Her head bends on her arm of fnow : her dark hair is in the wind. Hear, fon of Fingal, her fong, it is fmooth as the gliding waters of Lavath. -We came to the filent bayj. and heard the maid of night. * The hnpatience of young warriors, going n their firft ejf- pfedition, is well marked by their half-drawing their fwords. The modcfty of OiTian, in his narration of a ftory which doei him fo much honoar, is remarkable ; and his humanity to Nina- thoma would grace a hero of our own polifhed age. Though Offian paflcs over his own aftions in filence, or flightly men- tions them ; tradition has done ample jullice to his martial fame, and perhaps has exaggerated the actions of the poet beyond thcr bounds of credibility. f Nina-thoma the daugher of Torthoma, who had been con- fined to a defart ifland by her lover Uihal, How 364 B E R R A T H O K : How long will ye roll around me, blue-tttm- bling waters of ocean ? My dwelling was not always in caves, nor beneath the whiftling tree* The feaft was fpread in Torthoma's hall; niy father delighted in my voice. The youths be- held me in the fteps of my lovelinefs, and they blelTed the dark-haired Nina-thoma. It was then thou didft come, O Uthal ! like the fun of heaven. The fouls of the virgins are thine, fon of generous Larthmor ! But why doft thou leave me alone in the midft of roaring waters. Was my foul dark with thy death ? Did my white hand lift the fword ? Why then haft thou left me alone, king of high Finthormo ! * The tear ftarted from my eye, when I heard the voice of the maid. I ftood before her in my arms, and fpoke the words of peace. Lovely dweller of the cave, what figh is in that breaft ? Shall Offian lift his fword in thy pre- fence, the deftru<5\ion of thy foes? Daughter of Torthoma, rife, I have hearH the words of thy grief. The race of Morven are around thee, who never injured the weak. Come to our dark- bofomed fhip, thou brighter than that fetting moon. Our courfe is to the rocky Berrathon, Finthormo, the palace of Uthal. The names in this epiibdi *re not of a Celtic original; which makes it probable that Offian founds his poem on a Hue ilory. A P O 15 M, ' 2% to t^e echoing walls of Finthormo.- She caqie in her beauty, (he came with all her lovely fteps. Silent joy brightened in her face, as when the Ihadows fly from the field of fpring ; the blue- ^ream is rolling In brightnefs, and the green |)ulli bends over its courfe. The morning rofe with its beams. We came to Rothma's bay. A boar rufhed from the wood ; my fpear pierced his fide. I rejoiced over the blood *, andforefaw my growing fame. But now the found of Uthal's train came from the high Finthormo ; they fpread over the heath to the chace of the boar. Himfelf comes flowly on, in the pride of his ftrength. He lifts two pointed fpears, On his fide is the hero's fword. Three youths carry his polilhed bows : the bounding of five dogs is before him. His vy^a^riors move on, at a diftancc, admiring the fteps of the King- Stately was the fian of Larthmor ! but his foul was dark. Dark as the troubled face of the moon, when it foretels the florms. We rofc on the heath before the king; he ftopt in the midft of his courfe. His warriors * Offinn thought that his killing the boar, on his firft landing in Berrathon, was a good omen of his tiuure luccefs in that ifland. The prefent highlniulers look, with a degree of fuper- ftition, upon the fuccefs of their firll a^flion, after they have en. ffaged in any defpcrate undcrt;ii<.i!ig. gathered '366 B E R R A T H O N : gathered around, and a gray-haired bard ad- vanced. Whence are the fons of the ftrangers ? begun the bard. The children of the unhappy come to Berrathon ; to the fword of car-bornb Uthal. He fpreads no feaft in his liall : the blood of ftrangers is on his ftreams. If from Selma*^ walls ye come, from the molTy walls of Fingal, chufe three youths to go to your king to tell of the fall of his people. Perhaps the hero may come and pour his blood on Uthal's fword ; fo fhall the fame of Finthormo arife, like thp growing tree of the vale. Never will it rife, O bard, I faid in the pride of my wrath. He would fhrink in the pre? fence of Fingal, whofe eyes are the flames of death. The fon of Comhal comes, and the kings vanilh in his prefence ; they are rolled to- gether, like mift, by the breath of his rage. Shall three tell to Fingal, that his people fell ? Yes! they may tell it, bard! but his people ihall fall with fame. I STOOD in the darknefs of my ftrength 5 Tofcar drew his fword at my fide. The foe came oh like a flream : the mingled found of death arofc. Man took man, lliield met fhield -, ftecl mixed its beams with' fleel. Darts hif$ through air ; fpears ring on mails ; and f\vord$ on broken bucklers bound. As the noifc of an aged * IP O E MJ . I67 aged grove beneath the roaring wind, when a thoufa'nd ghofts break the trees by night, fuch was the din of arms. But Uthal fell beneath my fword ; and the fons of Berrathon fled, It was then I fa w him in his beauty, and the tear hung in my eye. Thou art fallen *, young tree, I faid, with all thy beauty round thee. Thou art fallen on thy plains, and the field is bare. The winds come from the defart, and there is no found in thy leaves ! Lovely art thou in death, fon of car-borne Larthmor. NiNA-THOMA fat on the fhore, and heard the found of battle. She turned her red eyes on Lethmal the gra^-haired bard of Selma, for he had remained on the coaft, with the daughter of Torthoma. Son of the times of old ! flie faid, t hear the noife of death. Thy friends have met with Uthal and the chief is low ! O tjiat I hacj * To mourn over the fall of their enemies was a praftice unU verfal among Offian's heroes. This is moie agreeable to huma- nity, than the fliameful infulting of the dead, fo common in Homer, and after him, fervilely copied by all his imitate rs, the humane Virgil not excepted, who have been more fuccefsful iq borrowing the imperfedlions of that great poet, than in their imitations of his beauues. Homer, it is probable, gave the man- ners of the times in which he wrote, not his own fentiments | Pflian alfo feems to keep to the fentimenti of his heroes. The reverence, which the mod baibarous highlandcrs have ftill for jhe remains of the deceafed, feems to have defcended to them from their mo(l remote anceftors. veinaiaed ^68 B E R R A T H O' N : remained on the rock, inclofed with the tum- bling waves! Then would my foul be fad, but his death would not reach my ear. Art thou fallen on thy heath, O fon of high Finthormo I thou didft leave me on a rock, but my foul was full of thee. Son of high Finthormo 1 art thou fallen on thy heath ? Ske rofe pale in her tears, and faw the bloody fhield of Uthal ; Ihe faw it in Offian*s hand ; her i^eps were diftra6led on the heath. She flew j Ihe found him ; flie fell. Her foul came forth in a figh. Her hair is fpread on his face. My burfting tears defcend. A tomb arofe on the unhappy j and my fong was heard. Rest, haplefs children of youth ! ^it the noife of that mofly flream. The virgins will fee your tomb, at the chace, and turn away their weeping eyes. Your fame will be in the fong ; the voice of the harp will be heard in your pralfe. The daughters of Selma ihall hear hj and your renown fhall be in other lands. Refl, children of youth, at the noife of the mofTy flream. Two days we remained on the coafl. The heroes of Eerrathon convened. We brought Larthmor to his halls 5 the fcafl of fhells was fpread. I'he joy of the aged was great ; he looked to the arms of his fathers ; the arms which A P d E M* 369 whicli he left in his hall, when the pxlde of Uthal arofe.- We were renowned before Larthmor, and he bleffed the chiefs of Morven ; but he knew not that his fon was low, the lately ftrength of Uthal. They had told, that he had retired to the woods, with the tears of grief; they had told it, but he was filent in the tomb of Rothma's heath. On the fourth day we raifed our fails to the roar of the northern wind. Larthmor came to the coaft, and his bards raifed the fong. The joy of the king was great, he looked to Rothma's gloomy heath ; he faw the tomb of his fon ; and the memory of Uthal rofe. Who of my heroes, he faid, lies there: he feems to have been of the kings of fpears ? Was he renowned in my halls, before the pride of Uthal rofe ? Ye are filent, ye fons of Berrathon, is the king of heroes low ? My heart melts for thee, O Uthal ; though thy hand was againft thy fa- ther. -^O that I- had remained in the cave! that my fon had dwelt in Finthormo ! I might have heard the tread of his feet, when he went to the chace of the boar. I might have heard his voice on the blaft of my cave. Then would my foul be glad : but now darknefs dwells in my halls. B b Suck- ^76 B E k R A T tl O N : Such were my deeds, fon of Alpin, when die arm of my youth was ftrong j fuch were * the a(^ions of Tofcar, the car-borne fon of Con- loch. But Tofcar is on his flying cloud j and I am alone at Lutha : my voice is like the laft found of the wind, when it forfak.es the woods. But Ollian fhall not be long alone, he fees the mift that ihall receive his ghoft. He beholds the mift that ihall form his robe, when he ap- pears on his hills. The fons of little men fhall behold me, and admire the ftature of the chiefs of old. They fhall creep to their caves, and look. to the iky with fear ; for my fleps lliall be in the clouds, and darknefs lliall roll on my fide. Lead, fon of Alpin, lead the aged to his woods. The winds begin to rife. The dark wave of the lake refounds. Bends there not a tree from Mora with its branches bare? It bends, fon of Alpin, in the ruftling blaft. My harp hangs on a blafted branch. The found of its firings is mournful. Does the wind touch thee, O harp, or is it fome paffing ghoft ! It is the hand of Malvina ! but bring me the harp, fon of Alpin j another fong ihall rife. My foul fhall depart in the founds my fathers * Oflian fpeaks. iliali - A P 6 E 3Vt. 371 Ihall hear It in their airy hall Their dim faces Ihall hang, with joy, from their clouds j and their hands receive their fon. * The aged oak bends over the ftream. It fighs with all its mofs. The withered fern whittles near, and mixes, as it waves, with Oilian's hair. Strike the harp and raife the fong : be near, with all your wings, ye winds. Bear the mournful found away to Fingal's airy hall. Bear it to Fingal's hall, that he may hear the voice of his fon ; the voice of him that praifed the mighty. The blaft of the north opens thy gates, O king, and I behold thee fit- ting on mift, dimly gleaming in all thine arms. Thy form now is not the terror of the valiant : but like a watery cloud ; when we fee the ftars behind it with their weeping eycf^. Thy fhield is like the aged moon : thy fword a vapour half- kindled with fire. Dim and feeble is the chief, who travelled in brightnefs before. But thy fteps -f* are on the winds of the de- fart, and the ftorms darken in thy hand. Thou takeft * Here begins the lyric piece, with which, tradition (ays, OlTian concluded his poems. It is fet to mufic, and ftrll fung in the north, with a great deal of wild fimplici;y, but little variety of found. t This magnificent defcription of the power of Fiugal over the winds and Ilorms, and ihc image of his taking the fun, and b 3 hiding ^72 B E R R A T H O N: takeft the fun in thy wrath, and hideft him in thy clouds. The fons of little men are afraid -, and a thoufand Ihowers defcend. But when thou comeft forth in thy mildnefs j the gale of the morning is near thy courfe. The fun laughs in his blue fields ; and the gray flream winds in its valley. The bullies Ihakc their green heads in the wind. The roes bound towards the defart. But there is a murmur in the heath ! the flormy winds abate ! I hear the voice of FingaL Long has it been abfent from mine ear !- Come, Offian, come away, he fays : Fingal has i"eceived his fame. We paffed away, like flames that had Ihone for a feafon, our departure was in renown. Though the plains of our battles hiding him in the clouds, do not correfpond with the preceding paragraph, where he is reprefented as a feeble ghoft, and na more the terror of the valiant; but it agrees with the notion of the times concerning the fouls of the deceafed, who, it was fuppofed, had the command of the winds andllorms, but in combat were not a match for valiant men. It was the immoderate praife beltowed by the poets on their departed friends, that gave the fiift hint to fuperftition to deify the deceafed heroes ; and thofe new divinities owed all their at- tributes to the fancy of the bard who fung their elegies. We do not find, that the praifes of Fingal had this eiFed upon his countrymen ; but that is to be imputed to the idea they had of power, v.hich they always conneded with bodily ilrength and perfonal valour, both which were diflblved by death. arc A. P O E M. 373 are dark and filentj our fame Is in the four gray ftones. The voice of Offian has been heard ; and the harp was ftrung in Sehna. Come Offian, come away, he fays, and fly with thy fathers on clouds. And come 1 will, thou king of men! the life of Offian fails. I begin to vanilh on Cona; and my fteps are not feen in Selma. Befide the ftone of Mora I fhall fall afleep. The winds whiftling in my grey hair fhall not waken me. Depart on thy wings, O wind : thou canft not difturb the reft of the bard. The night is long, but his eyes are heavy ; depart, thou ruli- ling blaft. But why art thou fad, fon of Fingal ? Why grows the cloud of thy foul? The chiefs of other times are departed ; they have gone without their fame. The fons of future years fhall pafs away ; and another race arife. The people are like the waves of ocean : like the leaves * of woody The fame thought may be found almoft in the fame words, in Homer, yi. 4^. Oi>) in^tjyO^tiit ymnt rmri^i xocl uv^fuv. Tri7:iQ6u(rx ^veh tcccgi ^ tiily'iyvirai u(yi. Mr. Pope falls fhort of his original ; in particukr he has omitted altogether the beautiful image of the wind ftrewing the withered leayes on the ground. B b 3 Like 374 B E R R A T H O N: woody Morven, they pafs away in the ruftling blaft, and other leaves lift their green heads. Did thy beauty laft, O Ryno * ? Stood the ftrength of car-borne Ofcar ? Fingal himfelf paffed Like leaves on trees the race of men are found. Now green in youth, now withering on the ground ; ' Another race the following fpring fupplies ; They fall fucceffive, and fucceflive rife. Pope. Ryno, the fon of Fingal, who was killed in Ireland, in the war againft Swaran, [Fing. b. 5.] was remarkable for the beauty of his perfon, his fwiftnefs and great exploits. Minvane, the daughter of Morni, and fifter to Gaul fo often mentioned in Oflian's compofitions, was in love with Ryno. Her lamentation over her lover is introduced as an epifode in one of Oflian's great poems. The lamentation is the only part of the poem now extant, and as it has fome poetical merit, I have fubjoined it to this note. The poet reprefents Minvane as feeing, from one of the rocks of Morven, the fleet of Fingal returning from Ireland. Q H E blufliing fad, from Morven's rocks, bends over the darkly- rolling fea. She faw the youths in all their arms. Where, Ryno, where art thou ? Our dark looks told that he was low ! That pale the hero fjew on clouds ! That in the grafs of Morven's hills, his feeble voice was heard in wind ! And is the fon of Fingal fallen, on Ullin's mofly plains ? Strong was the arm that conquered him ! Ah me! I am alone. Alone I will not be, ye winds ! that lift my dark-brown hair. My lighs will not long mix with your ftream ; for I muft fleep with Ryno. I fee thee not with beauty's fteps returning from the chace. The night is round Minvane's love ; and filence dwells with Ryno. 9 Where A P O E M. 375 pafled away ; and the halls of his fathers forgot his fteps. Andihalt thou remain, aged bard! when the mighty have failed ? But my fame fhall remain, and grow like the oak of Morvenj which lifts its broad head to the ftorm, and re- joices in the courfe of the wind. Where are thy dogs, and where thy bow ? Thy Shield that was fo ftrong ? Thy fword like heaven's defcending fire ? The bloody fpear of Ryno. I fee them mixed in thy fhip ; I fee them ftained with blood* No arms are in thy narrow hall, O darkly-dwelling Ryno I When will the morning come, and fay, arife, thou king of Ipears ! arife, the hunters are abroad. The hinds are near thee, Ryno ! Away, thou fair-haired morning, away ? the flumbering king^ hears thee not ! The hinds bound over his narrow tomb j for death dwells round young Ryno. But I will tread foftly, my king ! and Heal to the bed of thy rcpofe. Minvane will lie in filence, near her flumbering Ryno. The maids fhall feek me ; but they fhall not find me : they fhall follow my departure with fongs. But I will not hear you, O maids : I fleep with fair-haired Ryno. FINIS, Advertifement SINCE the printing of the fecond Edition, Dotor Warner publifhed a pamphlet, entitled. Remarks on the Htjiory of Fingal and other Poems of OJJian. The Doftor, it appears, is compiling a general hiftory of Ireland, and is of opinion that Oflian, and the heroes he celebrates, were natives of that country. As he has advanc- ed no argument to fupport fo Angular an opinion, I fhould have pafled over his pamphlet in filenco, had he not too precipitately accufed me of a falfe quotation from O'Fla- herty. I had faid, in a note, on one of the lefler poems of Oflian, that Fingal is celebrated by the Irijh hijiorians^for his ivifdom in making laws, his poetical genius ^ and his fort^ knowledge of events, and that 0^ Flaherty gees fo far as to fay, that FingaPs laws were extant, when he {(y Flaherty) wrote his Ogygia. The Dodlor denies that there is any fudi thing in O'Flaherty j and modeftly quotes a paflage from the fame Author, which he fuppofes, I have mifrepre- fented. I (hall here give the whole paragraph, and the world will judge whether the Dolor has not been too hafty in his aflertions. Finnius ex Mornid filia Thaddai, filius Cuballi, jurifprudentia, fuper qua fcripta ejus hoc- tenus extant, car minibus pairiis, ^ ut quldam ferunt prs- phetiis celeberrimusy qui ob egregiafua, y militia fua^ foci" nor a ub err imam vulgo, ilf poet is comminijcendi tnateriem r*- linquens, a nulla estate reticehitur, Ogyg. p. 338. As the Do(5tor founds his claim of Oifian and his heroes, en the authority of fome obfcure paflages in Keating and Flaherty, what he fays on the fubjed ftands felf-confutcd. 1 hefc writers neither meet with, nor deferve credit. Credu- lous and partial, they have altogether difgraced the an- tiquities they meant to eilablifh. Without producing re- cords, or even following the ancient traditions of their ccuntry, they formed an ideal fyftem of antiquity, from legends ADVERTISEMENT. legends of modern invention. Sir James Ware, who was indefatigable in his refearches, after the monuments of the Irifli hiftory, and had collefted all the real, and pretendedly ancient manufcripts, concerning the antiquity of his nation, rejedts as mere fidlion and romance, all that is faid con- cerning the times before Saint Patrick, and the reign of Leogaire, in the fifth century. I fhall tranfcribe the paf- fage, for the benefit of thofe who are compiling the hiftory f Ireland from the earlteji ages, and at the fame time, caution them, not to look upon the antiquities of that coun- try, through the falfe mediums of Keating and O'Flaherty, Per exiguam fuperejfe notitiam rerum in Hy hernia gejiarum ante exortam ibi evangelii auroram liquids conJlat Neque me latet a viris nonnullis doBis plaraque qua de antiquoribus illis temporibus ante S. Patricii in Hyberniam adventum tra~ duntur, tanquam fgmenta ejfe explofa. Notandum quidem de- fcripiionei fere omnium qucs de illis temporibus (antiquioribus dico) extant, opera eJfe pojieriorum feculorum, Waraeus de antiq. Praf. p. i. I muft obferve that the Do^or's claiming Oflian's poems (p. 8 ) in forma pauperis, not only invalidates his caufe, but is alfo no very genteel compliment to the Irifti nation. I am far from being of his opinion, that that na- tion can produce no monument of genius, but the works of Ofiian, (hould thefe be tacitly ceded to them. On the contrary, I am convinced that Ireland has produced men of great and diftinguifhed abilities, which, notwithftanding the Do6^or's prefent opinion, 1 hope, will appear from his own hiftory, even though he, confefl'edly, does not under- Hand the language, or ancient records of that country. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES UB&ARY UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 072 230