: Carril with a figh? - Mournful are Tura's walls; and forrow dwells at Dunfcaich.Thy fpoufe is left alone in her youth, the fon (1) of thy love is alone. He shall come to Bragela, and ask her why she weeps. -He shall lift his eyes to the wall, and fee his father's fword.-Whofe fword it that? he will fay and the foul of his mother is fad. Who is that, like the hart of the defart in the murmur of his courfe?-His eyes look wildly round in fearch of his friend.-Connal, fon of Colgar, where haft thou been, when the mighty fell? Did the feas of Togorma roll round thee? Was the wind of the fouth in thy fails? The mighty have fallen in battle, and thou waft not there.-Let none tell it in Selma, nor in Morven's woody land; Fingal will be fad, and the fons of the defart mourn. in the in the first century.- -The tranflator has given his reafons for fixing him in the third differtation which is prefixed to this collection. In other particulars the accounts of Keating and O'Flaherty coincide pretty nearly with Offian's poems, and the traditions of the Highlands and ifles. They fay that he was killed in the twentyfeventh year of his age, and they give him a great character for his wifdom and valour. (1) Conloch, who was afterwards very famous for his great exploits in Ireland. He was fo remarkable for his dexterity in handling the javelin, that when a good marksman is defcribed, it has By the dark rolling waves of Lego they raised the hero's tomb.-Luath (1), at a distance, lies, the companion of Cuchullin, at the chace. Bleft (2) be thy foul, fon of Semo; thou wert mighty in battle.-Thy ftrength was like the ftrength of a stream: thy fpeed like the eagle's (3) wing.-Thy path in the battle was terrible: the steps of death were behind thy fword.-Bleft be thy foul, fon of Semo; car-borne chief of Dunfcaich! Thou haft not fallen by the fword of the mighty, neither was thy blood on the spear of the valiant.-The arrow came, like the pafled into a proverb, in the north of Scotland, He is unerring as the arm of Conloch. (1) It was of old, the custom to bury the favourite dog near the mafter. This was not pecu liar to the ancient Scots, for we find it practifed by many other nations in their ages of heroifm. There is a ftone shewn ftill at Dunfcaich in the ifle of Sky, to which Cuchullin commonly bound his dog Luath.-The ftone goes by his name to this day. (2) This is the fong of the bards over Cuchullin's tomb. Every ftanza clofes with fome remarkable title of the hero, which was always the custom in funeral elegies. The verse of the song is a lyric measure, and it was of old fung to the harp. (3) They were swifter than eagles, they were Bronger than lions, a Sam. i. 23. fting of death in a blaft: nor did the feeble hand, which drew the bow, perceive it. Peace to thy foul, in thy cave, chief of the isle of Mift! The mighty are difperfed at Temora : there is none in Cormac's hall. The king mourns in his youth, for he does not behold thy coming. The found of thy shield is ceafed his foes are gathering round. Soft be thy reft in thy cave, chief of Erin's wars! : Bragela will not hope thy returm, or fee thy fails in ocean's foam.-Her steps are not on the shore: nor her ear open to the voice of thy rowers.-She fits in the hall of shells, and fees the arms of him that is no more.- -Thine eyes are full of tears, daughter of car-borne Sorglan! Bleft be thy foul in death, O chief of shady Cromla! C |