vale. Duth-marunot, arm of death! Crommaglas, of iron fhields! Struthmor, dweller of battle's wing! Cormar, whose ships bound on feas, careless as the course of a meteor, on darkrolling clouds! Arife, around me, children of heroes, in a land unknown! Let each look on his shield, like Trenmor, the ruler of wars. "Come down, thus Trennior faid, thou dweller between the harps. Thou shalt roll this ftream away, or wafte with me in earth." AROUND the king they rife in wrath. No words come forth: they seize their spcars. Each foul is rolled into itself. At length the fudden clang is waked, on all their echoing fhields. Each takes his hill, by night; at intervals, they darkly ftand. Unequal bursts the hum of fongs, between the roaring wind ! + Duth-maruno is a name very famous in tradition. Many of his great actions are handed down, but the poems, which contained the detail of them, are long fince loft. He lived, it is fuppofed, in that part of the north of Scotland, which is over against Orkney. Duth-maruno, Cromma-glas, Struthmor, and Cormar, are mentioned, as attending Comhal, in his last battle against the tribe of Morni, in a poem, which is ftill preserved. It is not the work of Offian; the phraseology betrays it to be a modern compofition. It is fomething like those trivial compofitions, which the Irish bards forged, under the name of Offian, in the fifteenth and fixteenth centuries. Duth-maruno fignifies, black and fleady; Cromma-glas, bending and fewarthy; Struthmor, roaring fream; Cormar, expert 6 fee BROAD Over them rofe the moon! In his arms, came tall Duth-maruno; he from Croma of rocks, ftern hunter of the boar! In his dark boat he rofe on waves, when Crumthormo* awaked its woods. In the chace he fhone, among foes: No fear was thine, Duthmaruno ! "SON of daring Comhal, fhall my steps be forward through night? From this fhield thall I view them, over their gleaming tribes? Starno king of lakes, is before me, and Swaran, the foe of ftrangers. Their words are not in vain, by Loda's ftone of power. -Should Duthmaruno not return, his fpoufe is lonely, at home, where meet two roaring ftreams, on Grathmo-craulo's plain. Around are hills, with echoing woods, the ocean is rolling near. My fon looks on fcreaming fea-fowl, a young wanderer on the field. Give the head of a boar to Can-dona, tell him of his father's joy, when the briftly * Crumthormoth, one of the Orkney or Shetland islands. The name is not of Galic original. It was fubject to its own petty king, who is mentioned in one of Offian's poems. Cean-daona, head of the people, the fon of Duth-maruno. He became afterwards famous, in the expeditions of Offian, after the death of Fingal. The traditional tales concerning him are very numerous, and, from the epithet, in them, beflowed on him (Candona of boars) it would appear, that b› applied himself to that kind of hunting, which his father, in this briftly frength of I-thorno rolled on his lifted spear. Tell him of my deeds in war! Tell where his father fell!" this paragraph, is fo anxious to recommend to him. As I have mentioned the traditional tales of the Highlands, it may not be improper here, to give some account of them. After the expulfion of the bards, from the houses of the chiefs, they, being an indolent race of men, owed all their fubfiftence to the generofity of the vulgar, whom they diverted with repeating the compofitions of their predeceffors, and running up the genealogies of their entertainers to the family of their chiefs. As this fubject was, however, foon exhaufted, they were obliged to have recourfe to invention, and form stories having no foundation in fact which were swallowed, with great credulity, by an ignorant multitude. By frequent repeating, the fable grew upon their hands, and, as each threw in whatever circumstance he thought conducive to raise the admiration of his hearers, the ftory became, at last, so devoid of all probability, that even the vulgar themselves did not believe it. They, however, liked the tales fo well, that the bards found their advantage in turning profeffed tale makers. They then launched out into the wildeft regions of fiction and romance. I firmly believe, there are more stories of giants, enchanted castles, dwarfs, and palfreys, in the Highlands, than in any country in Europe. These tales, it is certain, like other romantic compofitions, have many things in them unnatural, and, confequently, difguftful to true taste, but, I know not how it happens, they command attention other fictions I ever met with. The extreme more than any length of these pieces is very furprifing, fome of them requiring many days to repeat them, but fuch hold they take of the memory, that few circumftances are ever omitted by those who have received them only from oral tradition: What is still more amazing, the very language of the bards is ftill preserved. It is curious to fee, that the defcriptions of magnificence, introduced in thefe tales, is even fuperior to all the pompous oriental fictions of the kind. B 4 " NOT "Not forgetful of my fathers," faid Fingal, I have bounded over the feas. Theirs were the times of danger, in the days of old; Nor fettles darkness on me, before foes, tho' youthful in my locks. Chief of Crathmo-craulo, the field of night is mine." FINGAL rufhed, in all his arms, wide-bounding over Turthor's ftream, that fent its fullen roar, by night, through Gormal's mifty vale. A moon-beam glittered on a rock; in the midit, food a ftately form; a form with floating locks, like Lochlin's white-bofomed maids. Unequal are her fteps, and fhort, She throws a broken fong on wind. At times the toffes her white arms; for grief is dwelling in her foul. TORCUL-TORNO*, of aged locks !" the faid, where now are thy fteps, by Lulan? Thou haft Torcul-torno, according to tradition, was king of Crathlun, a district in Sweden. The river Lulan ran near the refidence of Torcul-torno. There is a river in Sweden, still called Lula, which is probably the fame with Lulan. The war between Starno and Torcul-torno, which terminated in the death of the latter, had its rife at a hunting party. Starno being invited, in a friendly manner, by Torçul-torno, both kings, with their followers, went to the mountains of Stiva more, to hunt. A boar rufhed from the wood before the kings, and Tarcul-torno killed it. Starno thought this behaviour a breach upon the privilege of guests, who were always bonoured, as tradition expreffes it, with the danger of the chace. haft failed, at thine own dark ftreams, father of Conban-cârgla! But I behold thee, chief of Lulan, fporting by Loda's hall, when the darkfkirted night is rolled along the sky.-Thou, fometimes, hideft the moon, with thy thield. I have seen her dim, in heaven. Thou kindleft thy hair into meteors, and faileft along the night. Why am I forgot, in my cave, king of shaggy boars? Look, from the hall of Loda, on thy lonely daughter." "WHO art thou," faid Fingal, night?" SHE, trembling, turned away. "voice of "WHO art thou, in thy darkness ?" SHE fhrunk into the cave. THE king loofed the thong from her hands. He asked about her fathers. chace. A quarrel arofe, the kings came to battle, with all their attendants, and the party of Torcul-torno were totally defeated, and he himself flain, Starno pursued his victory, laid waste the district of Crathlun, and, coming to the refidence of Torcul torno, carried off, by force, Conban-carglas, the beautiful daughter of his enemy. Her he confined in a cave, near the palace of Gormal, where, on account of her cruel treatment, fhe became distracted. The paragraph, juft now before us, is the fong of Conbancarglas, at the time she was discovered by Fingal. It is in Lyric measure, and set to mufic, which is wild and fimple, and fo inimitably fuited to the fituation of the unhappy lady, that few can hear it without tears. "TORCUL |