Page images
PDF
EPUB

A POEM.

SELMA, thy halls are filent. There is no

found in the woods of Morven. The wave tumbles alone on the coaft. The filent beam of the fun is on the field. The daughters of Morven come forth, like the bow of the shower; they look towards green Ullin for the white fails of the king. He had promised to return, but the winds of the north arose.

Who pours from the eastern hill, like a ftream of darkness? It is the host of Lathmon. He has heard of the abfence of Fingal. He trufts in the wind of the north. His foul

ven,

(1) Lathmon a British prince, taking advantage of Fingal's abfence in Ireland, made a defcent on Morand advanced within fight of Selma the royal palace. Fingal arrived in the mean time, and Lathmon retreated to a hill, where his army was furprifed by night, and himfelf taken prifoner by Offian and Gaul the fon of Morni. This exploit of Gaul and Offian bears a near resemblance to the beautiful epifode of Nifus and Euryalus in Virgil's ninth Eneid. The poem opens, with the first appearance of Fingal on the coaft of Morven, and ends, it may be fuppofed, about noon the next day. The first paragraph is in a lyric measure, and appears to have been fung of old, to the harp, as a prelude to the narrative part of the poem, which is in heroic yerfe.

brightens with joy. Why doft thou come, Lathmon The mighty are not in Selma. Why comeft thou with thy forward spear? Will the daughters of Morven fight? But stop, O mighty ftream, in thy courfe! Does not Lathmon behold these fails? Why doft thou vanish, Lathmon, like the mift of the lake? But the fqually ftorm is behind thee; Fingal purfues thy steps!

The king of Morven ftarted from fleep, as we rolled on the dark-blue wave. He ftretched his hand to his fpear, and his heroes rofe around. We knew that he had seen his fathers, for they often defcended to his dreams, when the fword of the foe rofe over the land; and the battle darkened before us.

Whither haft thou fled, O wind, faid the king of Morven? Doft thou ruftle in the chambers of the fouth, and pursue the shower in other lands? Why doft thou not come to my fails to the blue face of my feas? The foe is in the land of Morven, and the king is abfent. But let each bind on his mail, and each affume his shield. Stretch every spear over the wave; let every fword be unsheathed. Lathmon (1) is before us with his host: he

(1) It is faid , by tradition, that it was the intelligence of Lathmon's invasion, that occasion

that fled (1) from Fingal on the plains of Lona. But he returns, like a collected stream, and his roar is between our hills.

Such were the words of Fingal. We rushed into Carmona's bay. Offian afcended the hill; and thrice ftruck his boffy shield. The rock of Morven replied; and the bounding roes came forth. The foes were troubled in my prefence: and collected their darkened hoft; for I ftood, like a cloud on the hill, rejoicing in the arms of my youth.

Morni (2) fat beneath a tree, at the roaring waters of Strumon (3): his locks of age are

ed Fingal's return from Ireland; though Offian, more poetically, afcribes the caufe of Fingal's knowledge to his dream.

(1) He alludes to a battle wherein Fingal had defeated Lathmon. The occafion of this firft war, between those heroes, is told by Offian in another poem, which the tranflator has feen.

[ocr errors]

in

(2) Morni was chief of a numerous tribe the days of Fingal and his father Comhal. The laft mentioned hero was killed in battle against Morni's tribe; but the valour and conduct of Fingal reduced them at laft, to obedience. We find the two heroes perfectly reconciled in this poem.

[ocr errors]

(3) Stru'-moné, ftream of the hill. Here the proper name of a rivulet in the neighbourhood of Selma,

gray he leans forward on his ftaff; young Gaul is near the hero, hearing the battles of his youth. Often did he rife, in the fire of his foul, at the mighty deeds of Morni.

,

,

The aged heard the found of Offian's shield: he knew the fign of battle. He started at once from his place. His gray hair parted on his back. He remembers the actions of other years. My fon, he faid to fair-haired Gaul, I hear the found of battle. The king of Morven is returned the fign of war is heard. Go to the halls of Strumon, and bring his arms to Morni. Bring the arms which my father wore in his age, for my arm begins to fail. Take thou thy armour 0 Gaul; and rush to the firft of thy battles. Let thine arm reach to the renown of thy fathers. Be thy courfe in the field, like the eagle's wing. Why shouldft thou fear death, my fon! the valiant fall with fame ; their shields turn the dark stream of danger away, and renown dwells on their gray hairs. Doft, thou not fee, O Gaul, how the steps of my age are honoured? Morni moves forth, and the young meet him, with reverence, and turn their eyes, with filent joy, on his courfe. But I never fled from danger, my fon! my fword lightened through the darknefs of battle. The ftranger melted before me; the mighty were blafted in my prefence.

« PreviousContinue »