With morning we awaked the woods; and hung forward on the path of the roes. They fell by their wonted ftreams. We returned thro' Crona's vale. From the wood a youth came forward, with a fhield and pointlefs fpear. "Whence, faid Tofcar of Lutha, is the flying beam? Dwells there peace at Col- amon, round bright Colna dona of harps?" By Col-amon of streams, faid the youth, bright Colna dona dwelt. She dwelt; but her courfe is now in defarts, with the fon of the king; he that feized her foul, as it wandered thro' the hall. Stranger of tales, faid Tofcar, haft thou marked the warrior's courfe? He must fall, give thou that boffy fhield! took the fhield. Fair behind it breafts of a maid, white as the In wrath he heaved the bofom of a fwan, rifing on fwift-rolling waves. It was Colna-dona of harps, the daughter of the king. Her blue eyes had rolled on Toscar, and her love arofe. ADVICE. Instead nstead of the specimen of Temora's original, ALPHABETICAL INDEX Battle of Lora B. P. II, p. 41-55. Berrathon, or Offian's last Hymn. P. IV, p. 61-86. |