spear, over Lubar, and struck his echoing shield. His ridgy host bend forward, at once, with all their pointed steel. Nor Erin heard, with fear, the sound: wide they came rolling along. Dark Malthos, in the wing of war, looks forward from shaggy brows. Next rose that beam of light Hidalla; then the side-long-looking gloom of Maronnan. Blueshielded Clonar lifts the spear; Cormar shakes his bushy locks on the wind. Slowly, from be great as he was, says the Irish bard, he had one bad property, that no less would waken him, before his time, than cutting off one of his fingers, or throwing a great stone against his head; and it was dangerous to come near him on those occasions, till he had recovered himself, and was fully awake. Ca-olt, who was employed by Ossian to waken his son, made choice of throwing the stone against his head, as the least dangerous expedient. The stone, rebounding from the hero's head, shook, as it rolled along, the hill for three miles round. Oscar rose in rage, fought bravely, and, singly, vanquished a wing of the enemy's army. Thus the bard goes on, till Fingal put an end to the war, by the total rout of the Scandinavians. Puerile, and even despicable, as these fictions are, yet Keating and O'Flaherty have no better authority than the poems which contain them, for all that they write concerning Fion Mac-comhal, and the pretended militia of Ireland. MACPHERSON. The Irish poems, the only memorials of Ossian preserved, or at least hitherto discovered in the Highlands, were almost all, it seems, in Macpherson's hands; but these extravagancies are exaggerations of his own. hind a rock, rose the bright form of Atha. First appeared his two pointed spears, then the half of his burnished shield: like the rising of a nightly meteor, over the vale of ghosts". But when he shone all abroad: the hosts plunged, at once, into strife. The gleaming waves of steel are poured on either side. As meet two troubled seas, with the rolling of all their waves, when they feel the wings of contending winds 16, in the rock-sided firth of Lu 15 First appeared his two pointed spears, then the half of his burnished shield: like the rising of a nightly meteor, over the vale of ghosts.] From the appearance of Achilles's breastplate to Priam, compared by Homer to the noxious dog-star. POPE's Iliad, xxii. 35. Him, as he blazing shot across the field, The careful eyes of Priam first beheld. Not half so dreadful rises to the sight, Through the thick gloom of some tempestuous night, Orion's dog, (the year when autumn weighs,) And o'er the feebler stars exerts his rays; Terrific glory! for his burning breath Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death. So flamed his fiery mail. Then wept the sage. "Then the half of his burnished shield:" "Not half so dreadful rises to the sight." "Like the rising of a nightly meteor." "Orion's dog in some tempestuous night; and o'er the feebler stars," over the vale of ghosts," ""exerts his rays," &c. Disjecti membra poetæ. 39 66 16 As meet two troubled seas, with the rolling of all their mon; along the echoing hills is the dim course of ghosts from the blast fall the torn groves on the deep, amidst the foamy path of whales. So mixed the hosts! Now Fingal; now Cathmor came abroad. The dark tumbling of death is before them: the gleam of broken steel is rolled on their steps, as, loud, the high-bounding kings hewed down the ridge of shields. Maronnan fell, by Fingal, laid large across a stream. The waters gathered by his side, and leapt grey over his bossy shield. Clonar is pierced by Cathmor: nor yet lay the chief on earth. An oak seized his hair in his fall '7. His helmet rolled on the ground. By its thong, hung his broad shield; over it wandered his streaming waves, when they feel the wings of contending winds.] See Fingal, v. 3. Par. Lost, x. 289. As when two polar winds, blowing adverse Upon the Chronian sea, together drive Mountains of ice, that stop th' imagin'd way Beyond Pelsora eastward, to the rich Cathaian coast. 17 Nor yet lay the chief on earth. An oak seized his hair in his fall.] And the mule went under the thick boughs of a great oak. And his head caught hold of the oak; and he was taken up between the heaven and the earth. 2 Sam. xviii. 9. blood. Tla-min 18 shall weep, in the hall, and strike her heaving breast. 18 Tla-min, mildly soft. The loves of Clonar and Tlamin were rendered famous in the north, by a fragment of a lyric poem. It is a dialogue between Clonar and Tlamin. gins with a soliloquy, which he overhears. TLAMIN. She be Clonar, son of Conglas of I-mor, young hunter of dun-sided roes! where art thou laid, amidst rushes, beneath the passing wing of the breeze? I behold thee, my love, in the plain of thy own dark streams! The clung thorn is rolled by the wind, and rustles along his shield. Bright in his locks he lies: the thoughts of his dreams fly, darkening, over his face. Thou thinkest of the battles of Ossian, young son of the echoing isle! Half-hid in the grove, I sit down. Fly back, ye mists of the hill. Why should ye hide her love from the blue eyes of Tlamin of harps ? CLONAR. As the spirit, seen in a dream, flies off from our opening eyes, we think we behold his bright path between the closing hills; so fled the daughter of Clun-gal from the sight of Clonar of shields. Arise, from the gathering of trees; blue-eyed Tlamin, arise. TLAMIN. I turn me away from his steps. Why should he know of my love! My white breast is heaving over sighs, as foam on the dark course of streams. But he passes away, in his arms! Son of Conglas, my soul is sad. CLONAR. It was the shield of Fingal! the voice of kings from Selma of harps! My path is towards green Erin. Arise, fair light, from Nor did Ossian forget the spear, in the wing of his war. Young Hidalla came. "Soft voice of streamy Clonra! Why dost thou lift the steel? O that we met, in the strife of song, in thy own rushy vale!" Malthos beheld him low, and darkened as he rushed along. On either side of a stream, we bend in the echoing strife. Heaven comes rolling down around burst the voices of squally winds. Hills are clothed, at times, in fire. Thunder rolls in wreaths of mist'. In dark thy shades. Come to the field of my soul, there is the spreading of hosts. Arise, on Clonar's troubled soul, young daughter of blue-shielded Clungal. Clungal was the chief of I-mor, one of the Hebrides. MAC PHERSON. 19 Heaven comes rolling down.-Hills are clothed, at times, in fire. Thunder rolls in wreaths of mist.] POPE's Iliad, xvii. 670. A rolling cloud Involved the mount; the thunder roar'd aloud; The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors fly. Then trembled Greece. "In darkness shrunk the foe: Morven's warriors stood aghast. -Then rose the voice of Fingal, and the sound of the flying foe." |