A

halls. There dwelt bright Colna-dona, the daughter of the king. Her eyes were rolling ftars; her arms were white as the foam of ftreams. Her breaft rofe flowly to fight, like Her foul was a stream

ocean's heaving wave.

of light.

Who, among the maids, was

like the love of heroes?

Beneath the voice of the king, we moved to Crona) of the ftreams, Toscar of graffy

Lutha,

Gauls of the bills) who were posfeffed of the inore mountainous divifion of North Britain.

*) Crona, ́murmuring, was the name of a small stream, which discharged itself in the river Carron. It is often mentioned by Offian, and the fcenes of many of his poems are on its banks. The enemies, whom Fingal defeated here, are not mentioned. They were, probably, the provincial Britons. That tract of country between the Firths of Forth and Clyde has been, thro' all antiquity, famous for battles and rencounters, between the different nations, who were posfeffed of North and South - Britain. Stirling, a town fituated there, derives its name from that very circumstance. It is a corruption of the Galic name, STRILA, i. e. the bill, or rock, of contention.

Lutha, and Offian, young in fields. Three bards attended with songs. Three boffy fhields were born bofore us: for we were to rear the stone, in memory of the past. By Crona's molly courfe, Fingal had fcattered his foes: he had rolled away the ftrangers, like a troubled fea. We came to the place of renown: from the mountains defcended night. I tore an oak from its hill, and raised a flame on high. I bade my fathers to look down, from the clouds of their hall; for, at the fame of their race, they brighten in the wind.

I took a ftone from the ftream, amidst the fong of bards. The blood of Fingal's foes hung curdled in its ooze. Beneath, I placed, at intervals, three boffes from the fhields of foes, as rofe or fell the found of Ullin's nightly fong. Tofcar laid a dagger in earth, a mail of founding fteel. We raised the mould around the ftone, and bade it fpeak to other years.

Oozy daughter of ftreams, that now art reared on high, fpeak to the feeble, o ftone after Selma's race have failed! Prone, from

the ftormy night, the traveller fhall lay him, by thy fide: thy whistling mofs fhall found in his dreams; the years that were paft fhall reM

turn.

turn.net to Battles rife before him, blue-fhielded kings defcend to war: the darkened moon looks from heaven, on the troubled field. He fhall burft, with morning, from dreams, and fee the tombs of warriors round. He fhall afk about the ftone, and the aged will reply, "This grey stone was raised by Offian, a chief of other years!"

*) From Col-amon came a bard, from Car-ul, the friend of strangers. He bade us to the feast of kings, to the dwelling of bright Colna

*) The manners of the Britons and Caledonians were fo fimilar, in the days of Offian, that there can be no doubt, that they were originally the fame people, and defcended from those Gauls who first posfeffed themselves of South - Britain, and gradually migrated. This hypothesis is more rational than the idle fables of ill-informed fenachies, who bring the Caledonians from diftant countries. The bare opinion of Tacitus, (which, by-the-bye, was only founded on a fimilarity of the perfonal figure of the Caledonians to the Germans of his own time) tho' it has staggered fome learned men, is not fufficient to make us believe, that the antient inhabitants of NorthBritain were a German colony. A discuffion of

a point

Colna - dona. We went to the hall of harps. There Car-ul brightened between his aged locks, when he beheld the fons of his friends, like two young trees with their leaves.

waves,

Sons of the mighty, he faid, ye bring back the days of old, when first I defcended from on Selma's ftreamy vale. I pursued Duth mocarglos, dweller of ocean's wind. Our fathers had been foes, we met by Clutha's winding waters. He fled, along the fea, and my fails were fpread behind him. Night deceived me, on the deep. I came to the dwell. ing of kings, to Selma of high- bofomed maids. Fingal came forth with his bards, and Conloch, arm of death.. I feafted three days in the hall, and faw the blue eyes of Erin, Ros crana, daughter of heroes, light of CorNor forgot did my fteps depart: the kings gave their fhields to Car-ul:

mac's race.

they

a point like this might be curious, but could never be fatisfactory. Periods fo diftant are fo involved in obfcurity, that nothing certain can be now advanced concerning them. The light

which the Roman writers hold forth, is too feeb le to guide us to the truth, thro' the darkness which has furrounded it.

they hang, on high, in Col-amon, in memory Sons of the daring kings,

of the paft.

ye bring back the days of old.

Car-ul placed the oak of feats. He took two boffes from our fhields. He laid them in earth, beneath a stone, to speak to the hero's race. "When battle, faid the king, fhall roar, and our fons are to meet in wrath; my race fhall look, perhaps, on this ftone, when they Have not our fathers met in prepare the fpear. peace? they will fay; and lay afide the fhield.”

Night came down. In her long locks moved the daughter of Car-ul. Mixed with the harp arose the voice of white armed Colna-dopa. Tofcar darkened in his place, before the love of heroes. She came on his troubled foul, like a beam to the dark-heaving ocean: when it bursts from a cloud, and brightens the foamy fide of a wave *).

*

*

*

With

Here an epifode is intirely loft; or, at leaft; is handed down fo imperfectly, that is does not deferve a place in the poem.