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his fpear. A thousand shields, at once, are placed on their arms; and they drew a thoufand fwords. The hall of Selma brightened around. The clang of arms afcends. The gray dogs howl in their place. No word is among the mighty chiefs. Each marked the eyes of the king; and half affumed his fpear.

Sons of Morven, begun the king, this is no time to fill the shell. The battle darkens near us; and death hovers over the land. Some ghoft, the friend of Fingal, has forewarned us of the foe.-The fons of the ftranger come from the darkly-rolling fea. For, from the came the fign of Morven's gloomy danger. Let each (1) affume his heavy fpear, and gird on his father's fword.-Let

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(1) Εὖ μὲν τὶς δόρυ θεξάσθω, ἦν δ ̓ ἀσπίδα θέσθαι.
HOM. ii. 382,

His sharpen'd fpear let every Grecian wield,
And every Grecian fix his brazen shield,

&c.

Porz

Let each

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His adamantine coat gird well, and each
Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield
Borne ev'n or high; for this day will pour down
If I conjecture right, no drizling shower
But rattling ftorm of arrows barb'dwith fire,

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MILTON.

VOL. II.

B

the dark helmet rife on every head; and the mail pour its lightening from every fide.The battle gathers like a tempeft, and foon shall ye hear the roar of death.

a

The hero moved on before his hoft, like cloud before a ridge of heaven's fire; when it pours on the sky of night, and mariners foresee a storm. On Cona's rifing heath they food: the white-bofomed maids beheld them above like a grove; they forefaw the death of their youths, and looked towards the fea with fear. The white wave deceived them for diftant fails, and the tear is on their cheek.

The fun rofe on the fea, and we beheld a diftant feet. -Like the mift of ocean they came and poured their youth upon the coaft. The chief was among them, like the ftag in the midft of the herd. His shield is ftudded with gold, and stately ftrode the kind of fpears.He moved towards Selma; his thousands moved behind.

Go, with thy long of peace, faid Fingal ; go, Ullin, to the king of fwords. Tell him that we are mighty in battle; and that the ghofts of our foes are many.. But renowned are they who have feafted in my halls! they shew the arms (1) of my fathers in a foreign

(3) It was a custom among the ancient Scops, to

land: the fons of the ftranger wonder, and blefs the friends of Morven's race; for our names have been heard afar; the kings of the world shook in the midst of their people.

Ullin went with his fong. Fingal refted on his spear: he saw the mighty foe in his armour : and he bleft the ftranger's fon.

How ftately art thou, fon of the fea! faid the king of woody Morven. Thy sword is a beam of might by thy fide: thy fpear is a fir that defies the ftorm. The varied face of the moon is not broader than thy shield.-Ruddy is thy face of youth! foft the ringlets of thy hair! -But this tree may fall; and his memory be forgot! The daughter of the ftranger will be fad, and look to the rolling fea :-the children will fay, « We fee a ship, <<< perhaps it is the king of Balclutha. » The tear ftarts from their mother's eye. Her thoughts are of him that sleeps in Morven.

Such were the words of the king, when Ullin came to the mighty Carthon : he threw down the spear before him; and raised the Long of peace.

Come to the feaft of Fingal, Carthon, from

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exchange arms with their guests, and thofe arms were preferved long in the different families monuments of the friendship which fubfifted bezween their ancestors.

the rolling fea! partake the feaft of the king, or lift the fpear of war. The ghofts of our foes are many but renowned are the friends of Morven !

Behold that field, O Carthon; many a green hill rifes there, with moffy ftones and ruftling grafs thefe are the tombs of Fingal's foes, the fons of the rolling fea.

Doft thou fpeak to the feeble in arms, faid Carthon, bard of the woody Morven ? Is my face pale for fear, fon of the peaceful fong? Why, then, doft thou think to darken my foul with the tales of thofe who fell? - My arm has fought in the battle; my renown is known afar. Go to the feeble in arms, and bid them yield to Fingal. Have not I feen the fallen Balclutha And shall I feast with Comhal's fon? Comhal! who threw his fire in the midst of my father's hall! I was young, and knew not the cause why the virgins wept. The columns of fmoke pleased mine eye, when they rofe above my walls; I often looked back, with gladness, when my friends fled along the hill. But when the years of my youth on, I beheld the mofs of my fallen walls: my figh arofe with the morning, and my tears defcended with night.-Shall I not fight, I faid to my foul, againft the children of my foes? And I will fight, O bard; I feel the Strength of my foul.

came

His people gathered around the hero, and drew, at once, their shining fwords. He ftands, in the midft, like a pillar of fire; the tear half-starting from his eye; for he thought of the fallen Balclutha, and the crowded pride of his foul arofe. Sidelong he looked up to the hill, where our heroes shone in arms; the fpear trembled in his hand: and, bending forward, he feemed to threaten the king.

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Shall I, faid Fingal to his foul, meet, once, the king? Shall I ftop him, in the midft of his courfe, before his fame shall arife? But the bard, hereafter, may fay, when he fees the tomb of Carthon; Fingal took his thousands, along with him, to battle, before the noble Carthon fell.-No:-bard of the times to come! thou shalt not leffen Fingal's fame. My heroes will fight the youth, and Fingal behold the battle. If he overcomes, I rush, in my ftrentgh, like the roaring ftream of Cona.

Who, of my heroes, will meet the fon of the rolling fea? Many are his warriors on the coaft: and ftrong is his ashen spear!

Cathul (1) rofe, in his ftrength, the son of the mighty Lormar: three hundred youths

(1) Cath-'huil, the eye of battle.

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