"We are not of the race of the feeble, king of blue-shielded hosts! Why should fear come among us, like a ghost of night? The soul of the valiant grows, when foes increase in the field. Roll no darkness, king of Erin, on the young in war !" "The bursting tears of the king came down. He seized my hand in silence. "Race of the daring Trenmor!" at length he said, "I roll no cloud before thee. Thou burnest in the fire of thy fathers. I behold thy fame. It marks thy course in battle, like a stream of light. But wait the coming of Cairbar 3; my son must join thy 3 Cairbar, the son of Cormac, was afterwards king of Ireland. His reign was short. He was succeeded by his son Artho, the father of that Cormac who was murdered by Cairbar, the son of Borbar-duthul. Cairbar, the son of Cormac, long after his son Artho was grown to man's estate, had, by his wife Baltanno, another son, whose name was Ferad-artho. He was the only one remaining of the race of Conar, the first king of Ireland, when Fingal's expedition against Cairbar, the son of Borbarduthul, happened. See more of Ferad-artho in the eighth book. MACPHERSON. According to Irish history, Cormac Ulfadha, Fingal's fatherin-law, was the father of Cairbre Liffecair, who slew Oscar at the battle of Gabhra, and who was himself killed, in the same battle, by Simeon Mackirbe. The rest is all the invention of Macpherson. Ogygia, 341. Keating, 286. sword. He calls the sons of Erin, from all their distant streams." "We came to the hall of the king, where it rose in the midst of rocks, on whose dark sides were the marks of streams of old. Broad oaks bend around with their moss. The thick birch is waving near. Half-hid, in her shady grove, Ros-crána raises the song. Her white hands move on the harp. I beheld her blue rolling eyes. She was like a spirit of heaven half-folded in the skirt of a cloud! 4 The attitude of Ros-crána is illustrated by this simile; for the ideas of those times, concerning the spirits of the deceased, were not so gloomy and disagreeable as those of succeeding ages. The spirits of women, it was supposed, retained that beauty which they possessed while living, and transported themselves, from place to place, with that gliding motion which Homer ascribes to the gods. The descriptions which poets, less ancient than Ossian, have left us of those beautiful figures, that appeared sometimes on the hills, are elegant and picturesque. They compare them to the rain-bow on streams; or, the gliding of sun-beams on the hills. A chief who lived three centuries ago, returning from the war, understood that his wife, or mistress, was dead, A bard introduces him speaking the following soliloquy, when he came within sight of the place, where he had left her at his depar ture. "My soul darkens in sorrow. I behold not the smoke of my 1 "Three days we feasted at Moi-lena. She rises bright in my troubled soul. Cormac beheld me dark. He gave the white-bosomed maid. She comes with bending eye, amid the wandering of her heavy locks. She came! Straight the battle roared. Colc-ulla appeared: I took my spear. My sword rose, with my people, against the ridgy foe. Alnecma fled. Colc-ulla fell. Fingal returned with fame. "Renowned is he, O Fillan, who fights in the hall. No grey dog bounds at my streams. Silence dwells in the valley of trees. "Is that a rain-bow on Crunath? It flies: and the sky is dark. Again thou movest, bright on the heath, thou sun-beam clothed in a shower! Hah! it is she, my love: her gliding course on the bosom of winds!” In succeeding times the beauty of Ros-crána passed into a proverb; and the highest compliment that could be paid to a woman, was to compare her person with the daughter of Cor mac. 'S tu fein an Ros-crána. Siol Chormaec na n'ioma lan. MACPHERSON. The ghosts and spirits of the hills, as they are termed in Fingal, and in the preceding note, are now converted by the translator into spirits of heaven ("Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heaven"), without adverting, that to this, in the mythology ascribed to Ossian, there is no such correlatives as heaven and hell, much less any invidious distinctions between the spirits of either. strength of his host. The bard pursues his steps, through the land of the foe. alone, few are his deeds to But he who fights other times! He To-morrow, he shines, to-day, a mighty light. is low. ONE song contains his fame. His name is on ONE dark field. He is forgot; but where his tomb sends forth the tufted grass." Such are the words of Fingal, on Mora of the roes. Three bards, from the rock of Cormul, pour down the pleasing song. Sleep descends, in the sound, on the broad-skirted host. Carril returned, with the bards, from the tomb of Dunlora's chief. The voice of Morning shall not come, to the dusky bed of Duth-caron. No more shalt thou hear the tread of roes, around thy narrow-house 5! As roll the troubled clouds round a meteor of night, when they brighten their sides with its 5 The voice of morning shall not come to the dusky bed of Duthcaron. No more shalt thou hear the tread of roes around · thy narrow house.] GRAY's Elegy. Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, light, along the heaving sea; so gathers Erin, around the gleaming form of Cathmor. He, tall in the midst, careless lifts, at times, his spear: as swells or falls the sound of Fonar's distant harp. Near him leaned, against a rock, Sul-malla of blue eyes, the white-bosomed daughter of Conmor, king of Inis-huna. To his aid came blue-shielded Cathmor, and rolled his foes away. Sul-malla beheld him stately in the hall of feasts. Nor careless rolled the eyes of Cathmor on the long-haired maid! The third day arose, when Fithil came from Erin of the streams. He told of the lifting up of the shield in Selma: He told of the danger As roll the troubled clouds round a meteor of night, when they brighten their dark brown sides with its light.] Highlander, vi. 19. The chiefs behind advance their sable forms, And with dark contrast heighten all her charms: "So gathers Erin round the gleaming form of Cathmor.” 7 Sul-malla, slowly rolling eyes. Caon-mor, mild and tall. Inis-huna, green island. MACPHERSON. 8 The ceremony, which was used by Fingal when he prepared for an expedition, is related thus in tradition: A bard, at mid |