"Annir," said Starno of lakes, was a fire that consumed of old. He poured death from his eyes, along the striving fields. His joy was in the fall of men. Blood, to him, was a summer stream, that brings joy to withered vales, from its own mossy rock. He came forth to the lake Luth-cormo, to meet the tall Corman-trunar, he from Urlor of streams, dweller of battle's wing. The chief of Urlor had come to Gormal, with his dark-bosomed ships. He saw the daughter of Annir, white-armed Foina-brâgal. He saw her! Nor careless rolled her eyes, on the rider of stormy waves. She fled to his ship in darkness, like a moon-beam through a nightly vale. Annir pursued along the deep; he called the winds of heaven. Nor alone was the king! Starno was by his side. Like U-thorno's young eagle, I turned my eyes on my father. We rushed into roaring Urlor. With his people came tall Corman-trunar. We fought; but the foe prevailed. In his wrath my father stood. He lopped the young trees, with his sword. His nute alteration, the simile iş adapted to the surly attitude of Starno and Swaran. eyes rolled red in his rage. I marked the soul of the king, and I retired in night. From the field I took a broken helmet: a shield that was pierced with steel: pointless was the spear in my hand. I went to find the foe. On a rock sat tall Corman-trunar, beside his burning oak; and near him, beneath a tree, sat deep-bosomed Foina-brâgal. I threw my broken shield before her. I spoke the words of peace. "Beside his rolling sea, lies Annir of many lakes. The king was pierced in battle; and Starno is to raise his tomb. Me, a son of Loda, he sends to white-handed Foina, to bid her send a lock from her hair, to rest with her father, in earth. thou king of roaring Urlor, let the battle cease, till Annir receive the shell, from fiery-eyed Cruth-loda. And Bursting into tears, she rose, and tore a lock from her hair: a lock, which wandered, in the blast, along her heaving breast. Corman-trunar gave the shell, and bade me to rejoice before him. I rested in the shade of night, and hid my face in my helmet deep. Sleep descended on the foe. I rose, like a stalking ghost". I pierced I rose like a stalking ghost.] Highlander, i. 219. the side of Corman-trunar. Nor did Foinabrâgal escape. She rolled her white bosom in blood. Why, then, daughter of heroes, didst thou wake my rage? Morning rose. parture of mist. The foe were fled, like the deAnnir struck his bossy shield. He called his dark-haired son. I came, streaked with wandering blood: thrice rose the shout of the king, like the bursting forth of a squall of wind, from a cloud, by night. We rejoiced, three days, above the dead, and called the hawks of heaven". They came, from all their winds, Thus often to the mid-night traveller The stalking figures of the dead appear. 7 And called the hawks of heaven.] The spirit, and the very ideas, of Regner Lodbrog, that northern scalder, whom I formerly quoted, occur to us again. "The hawks," Ossian makes one of his Scandinavian chiefs say, "rush from all their winds. They are wont to trace my course. We rejoiced three days above the dead, and called the hawks of heaven. They came from all their winds, to feast on Annir's foes." BLAIR's Dissertation, 2d edit. 8vo. 1765. Acquila impetravimus tunc sufficientem Habere potuerunt tum corvi Ante Indirorum insulas Sufficientem prædum dilaniandam. to feast on Annir's foes. Swaran! Fingal is alone, on his hill of night. king in secret; like joice. Let thy spear pierce the Annir, my soul shall re "Son of Annir," said Swaran, "I shall not slay in shades. I move forth in light: the hawks rush from all their winds: They are wont to trace my course: it is not harmless through war." Acquisivimus feris carnivoris Ruit pluvia sanguinis de gladiis, Præceps in Bardafyrde Pallidum corpus pro accipitribus. Quilibet jacebat transversim supra alium, Gaudebat pugna lætus Accipiter ob gladiorum ludus. Id. "The bodies of the warriors lay intermingled. The hawk rejoiced at the play of the sword." Five Pieces of Runic Poetry, 1763, p. 35. See Sul-malla, 5. The subjects of Fingal, and of the Battle of Lora, are invasions from Lochlin; the subjects of Carrick-thura, Oithona, Croma, Inisthona, Berrathon, are expeditions to Scandinavia, or its dependent isles. But in these poems, the hawks of heaven were no more introduced than in Macpherson's Highlander; and the image was unknown to Ossian, till the appearance of Regner Lodbrog's Death Song, in Percy's Five Pieces of Runic Poetry, and in the first edition of Blair's Dissertation. Surely, surely, Blair must have suspected such gross imitations, when the translator stole even from his own commentators. Burning rose the rage of the king. He thrice raised his gleaming spear. But, starting, he spared his son; and rushed into the night. By Turthor's cave a stream is dark, the dwelling of Conban-carglas. There he laid the helmet of kings, and called the maid of Lulan; but she was distant far, in Loda's resounding hall. Swelling in his rage, he strode, to where Fingal lay alone. The king was laid on his shield, on his own secret hill. Stern hunter of shaggy boars! no feeble maid is laid before thee. No boy, on his ferny bed, by Turthor's murmuring stream. Here is spread the couch of the mighty, from which they rise to deeds of death! Hunter of shaggy boars, awaken not the terrible! Starno came murmuring on. Fingal arose in arms. "Who art thou, son of night?" Silent he threw the spear. They mixed their gloomy strife. The shield of Starno fell, cleft in twain. He is bound to an oak. The early beam arose. It was then Fingal beheld the king. He rolled a while his silent eyes. He thought of other days, - when the white-bosomed Agaudecca moved like the music of songs. He loosed the thongs from 1 |