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foul was generous and mild, like the hour of the fetting fun. Thy words were the gale of the reeds, or the gliding stream of Lora.

But when the rage of battle rofe, thou waft like a fea in a ftorm; the clang of arms was terrible: the hoft vanished at the found of thy course. It was then Darthula beheld thee, from the top of her moffy tower: from the tower of Selama (1), where her fathers dwelt.

Lovely art thou, O ftranger! she said i for her trembling foul arofe. Fair art thou in thy battles, friend of the fallen Cormac (2) Why doft thou rush on, in thy valour, youth of the ruddy look? Few are thy hands, in battle, against the car-borne Cairbar! O that I might be freed of his love! (3) that I might rejoice in the pre

(1) The poet does not mean that Seláma which is mentioned as the feat of Tofcar in Ulfter, in' the poem of Conlath and Cuthona. The word in the original fignifies either beautiful to behold, or a place with a pleasant or wide profped. In those times, they built their houfes upon eminences, to command a view of the country, and to pres vent their being furprized many of them, that account, were called Seláma. The famous Selma of Fingal is derived from the fame root.

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(2) Cormac the young king of Ireland, who was murdered by Cairbar.

(3) That is, of the love of Cairbar,

fence of Nathos !

Bleft are the rocks of Etha; they will behold his steps at the chace! they will fee his white bolom when the winds lift his raven hair!

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Such were thy words, Dar-thula, in Selama's moffy towers. But, now, the night is round thee: and the winds have deceived thy fails. The winds have deceived thy fails, Dar-thula their bluftering found is high. Ceafe a little while, O north wind, and let me hear the voice of the lovely. Thy voice is lovely, Dar- thula, between the ruftling blafts.

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Are thefe the rocks of Nathos; and the roar of his mountain-ftreams? Comes that beam of light from Ufnoth's nightly hall? The mift rolls around, and the beam is feeble but the light of Dar-thula's foul is the car-borne chief of Etha ! Son of the generous Ufnoth, why that broken figh? Are we not in the land of strangers, chief of echoing Etha

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These are not the rocks of Nathos, he replied, nor the roar of his ftreams. No light comes from Etha's halls, for they are diftant far. We are in the land of ftrangers, in the land of car-borne Cairbar. The winds have deceived us, Dar-thula. Ullin lifts here her green hills. Go towards the north, Althos;

be thy fteps, Ardan, along the coaft; that the foe may not come in darkness, and our hopes of Etha fail.

I will go towards that moffy tower, and fee who dwells about the beam.-Reft, Dar-thula, on the shore reft in peace, thou beam of light the fword of Nathos is around thee like the lightning of heaven.

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He went. She fat alone, and heard the rolling of the wave. The big tear is in her eye; and she looks for the car-borne Nathos. -Her foul trembles at the blaft. And she turns her ear towards the tread of his feet. -The tread of his feet is not heard. Where art thou, son of my love! The roar of the blaft is around me. Dark is the cloudy night.

But Nathos does not return. What detains thee, chief of Etha-Have the foes met the hero in the ftrife of the night?—

He returned, but his face was dark: he had feen his departed friend. It was the wall of Tura, and the ghoft of Cuchullin ftalked there. The fighing of his breaft was frequent; and the decayed flame of his eyes terrible. His fpear was a column of mift: the stars looked dim through his form. His voice was like hollow wind in a cave and he told the tale of grief. The foul of Nathos was

fad, like the fun (1) in the day of mift when his face is watry and dim.

Why art thou fad, O Nathos, faid the lovely daughter of Colla? Thou art a pillar of light to Dar-thula: the joy of her eyes is in Etha's chief. Where is my friend (2), but Nathos? My father refts in the tomb. Silence dwells on Selama fadnefs fpreads on the blue ftreams of my land. My friends have fallen, with Cormac. The mighty were flain in the battle of Ullin.

Evening darkened on the plain. The blue ftreams failed before mine eyes. The unfrequent blaft came ruftling in the tops of Selama's groves. My feat was beneath a tree on the walls of my fathers. Truthil paft before my foul; the brother of my love; he that

(1) Conditus in nubem, medioque refugerit orbe..

VIRG.

-Thro' mifts he shoots his fullen beams, Frugal of light, in loose and straggling ftreams.

(2) ου γὰρ ἔτ ̓ ἄλλη

Εται θαλπωρή.

- δέ μοι εσί πατὴρ καὶ πότνια μήτηρ.

DRYDEN,

HOM. vi. 417.

was abfent (1) in battle against the car-borne Cairbar.

Bending on his fpear, the gray-haired Colla came his downcaft face is dark, and forrow dwells in his foul. His fword is on the fide of the hero: the helmet of his fathers on his head. The battle grows in his breast. He ftrives to hide the tear.

Dar-thula, he fighing faid, thou art the laft of Colla's race. Truthil is fallen in battle. The king (2) of Selama is no more.-Cairbar comes, with his thousands, towards Selama's walls. Colla will meet his pride, and -revenge his fon. But where shall I find thy fafety, Dar-thula, with the dark-brown hair! thou art lovely as the fun-beam of heaven and thy friends are low!

And is the son of battle fallen? I faid with a burfting figh. Ceafed the generous foul of Truthil to lighten through the field?-My fafety, Colla, is in that bow; I have learned to pierce the deer. Is not Cairbar like the hart of the defart, father of fallen Truthil?

(1) The family of Colla preferved their loyalty to Cormac long after the death of Cuchullin.

in Offian's poetry, to (2) It is very common, give the title of King to every chief that was remarkable for his valour.

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