Thick wind the thongs of the hide around his limbs; he loads the wind with his groans. Arindal afcends the deep in his boat, to bring Daura to land. Armar came in his wrath, and let fly the grey-feathered thaft. It fung; it funk in thy heart, O Arindal my fon! for Erath the traitor thou diedft. The oar is ftopped at once ; he panted on the rock and expired. What is thy grief, O Daura, when round thy feet is poured thy brother's blood! The boat is broken in twain. Armar plunges into the fea, to refcue his Daura or die. Sudden a blast from the hill came over the waves. He funk, and he rofe no more. ALONE, on the fea-beat rock, my daughter was heard to complain. Frequent and loud were her cries. What could her father do? All night I ftood on the fhore. I faw her by the faint beam of the moon. All night I heard her cries. Loud was the wind; the rain beat hard on the hill. Before morning appeared, her voice was weak. It died away, like the eveningbreeze among the grafs of the rocks. Spent with grief the expired. And left thee Armin alone: : gone is my strength in war! fallen my pride among women! When the ftorms aloft *The poet here only means that Erath was bound with leathern thongs. arife when the north lifts the wave on high; I fit by the founding fhore, and look on the fatal rock. Often by the fetting moon, I fee the ghofts of my children. Half-viewlefs, they walk in mournful conference together. together. Will none of you speak in pity? They do not regard their father. I am fad, O Carmor, nor fmall is my caufe of woe! SUCH were the words of the bards in the days of fong; when the king heard the mufic of harps, the tales of other times! The chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely found. They praifed the voice of Cona! the firft among a thoufand bards! But age is now on my tongue; my foul has failed! I hear, at times, the ghosts of bards, and learn their pleasant fong. Bnt memory fails on my mind. I hear the call of years! They fay, as they pafs along, why does Offian fing? Soon fhall he lie in the narrow houfe, and no bard fhall raise his fame! Roll on, ye dark-brown years; ye bring no joy on your courfe! Let the tomb open to Offian, for his ftrength has failed. The fons of fong are gone to reft. My voice remains, like a blaft, that roars, lonely, on a fea-furrounded rock, after the winds are laid. The dark mofs whiftles there; the diftant mariner fees the waving trees! Offian is fometimes poetically called the voice of Cona. 9 ARGUMENT to Book I. Cuthullin, (general of the Irish tribes, in the minority of Cormac, king of Ireland) fitting alone beneath a tree, at the gate of Tura, a caftle of Ulfter, (the other chiefs having gone on a hunting party to Cromla, a neighbouring hill) is informed of the landing of Swaran, king of Lochlin, by Moran, the son of Fithil, one of his scouts. He convenes the chiefs; a council is held, and difputes run high about giving, battle to the enemy. Connal, the petty king of Togorma, and an intimate friend of Cuthullin, was for retreating till Fingal, king of thofe Caledonians who inhabited the north-west coast of Scotland, whose aid had been previously follicited, fhould arrive; but Calmar, the fon of Matha, lord of Lara, a country in Connaught, was for engaging the enemy immediately. Cuthullin, of himself willing to fight, went into the opinion of Calmar. Marching towards the enemy, he miffed three of his braveft heroes, Fergus, Duchomar, and Cathba. Fergus arriving, tells Cuthullin of the death of the two other chiefs; which introduces the affecting episode of Morna, the daughter of Cormac. The army of Cuthullin is defcried at a distance by Swaran, who fent the fon of Arno to obferve the motions of the enemy, while he himself ranged his forces in order of battle. The fon of Arno returning to Swaran, defcribes to him Cuthullin's chariot, and the terrible appearance of that hero. The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the victory undecided. Cuthullin, according to the hofpitality of the times, fends to Swaran a formal invitation to a feast, by his bard Carril, the fon of Kinfena. Swaran refuses to come. Carril relates to Cuthullin the story of Grudar and Braffolis. A party, by Connal's advice, is fent to obferve the enemy; which clofes the action of the first day. FINGAL, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM. In SIX BOOKS. BOOK I. 'UTHULLIN * fat by Tura's wall: by the CUT tree of the ruftling found. His fpear leaned against a rock. His fhield lay on grafs, by his * Cuthullin the fon of Semo and grandfon to Caithbat a druid celebrated in tradition for his wifdom and valour. Cuthullin when very young married Bragela the daughter of Sorglan, and paffing over into Ireland, lived for fome time with Connal, grandfon by a daughter to Congal the petty king of Ulfter. His wisdom and valour in a fhort time gained him fuch reputation, that in the minority of Cormac the fupreme king of Ireland, he was chofen guardian to the young king, and fole manager of the war against Swaran king of Lochlin. After a series of great actions he was killed in battle fomewhere in Connaught, in the twenty-feventh year of his age. He was fo remarkable for his ftrength, that to describe a ftrong man it has paffed into a proverb, "He has the Atrength of Cuthullin." They fhew the remains of his palace at Dunfcaich in the Isle of Skye; and a stone to which he bound his dog Luath, goes ftill by his name. |