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the filent fhore waited for the rufhing wind. For loud and diftant he heard the blaft murmuring in the grove.

Covered over with arms of steel, a fon of the woody Gormal appeared. Red was his cheek and fair his hair. His fkin like the fnow of Morven. Mild rolled his blue and finiling eye, when he spoke to the king of fwords.

Stay, Trenmor, ftay thou first of men,

thou haft not conquered Lonval's fon.

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fword has often met the brave.

fhun the ftrength of my bow.

My

And the wife

Thou fair-haired youth, Trenmor replied, I will not fight with Lonval's fon. Thine arm is feeble, fun-beam of beauty. Retire to Gormal's dark brown hinds.

But I will retire, replied the youth, with the fword of Trenmor; and exfult in the found of my fame. The virgins fhall gather with fmiles around him who conquered Trenmor. They fhall figh with the fighs of love, and admire the length of thy fpear; when I fhall carry it among thousands, and lift the glittering point to the fun.

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Thou shalt never carry my fpear, faid the

angry king of Morven.

Thy mother fhall find thee pale on the fhore of the ecchoing Gor mal; and, looking over the dark blue deep, fee the fails of him that flew her fon.

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I will not lift the fpear, replied the youth, my arm is not ftrong with years. But with the feathered dart I have learned to pierce a diftant foe. Throw down that heavy mail of fteel; for Trenmor is covered all over. I first will lay my mail on earth. now thy dart, thou king of Morven.

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Throw

He faw the heaving of her breast. It was

the fifter of the king.

in the halls of Gormal; youth.

She had feen him

and loved his face of

The fpear dropt from the hand of Trenmor: he bent his red cheek to the ground, for he had feen her like a beam of light, that meets the fons of the cave, when they revifit the fields of the fun, and bend their aching eyes.

Chief of the windy Morven, begun the maid of the arms of fnow; let me reft in thy bounding fhip, far from the love of Corlo.

For

For he, like the thunder of the defart, is ter rible to Inibaca. He loves me in the gloom of his pride, and fhakes ten thoufand fpears.

Reft thou in peace, faid the mighty Trenmor, behind the fhield of my fathers. I will not fly from the chief, though he thakes ten thousand fpears.

Three days he waited on the fhore; and
He called Corlo to batt-

fent his horn abroad.

le, from all his ecchoing hills.

But Corlo ca

me not to battle. The king of Lochlin defcended. He feafted on the roaring fhore; and gave the maid to Trenmor.

King of Lochlin, faid Fingal, thy blood flows in the veins of thy foe. Our families met in battle, because they loved the ftrife of spears. But often did they feast in the hall, and fend round the joy of the hell. Let thy face brighten with gladness, and thine ear delight in the harp. Dreadful as the ftorm of thine ocean, thou haft poured thy valour forth; thy voice has been like the voice of thoufands, when they engage in battle. Raife, to-morrow, thy white fails to the wind, thou brother of Agandecca. Bright as the beam of noon fhe

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comes on my mournful foul. I faw thy tears for the fair one, and fpared thee in the halls of Starno; when my fword was red with flaughter, and my eye full of tears for the maid. Or doft thou chufe the fight? The combat, which thy fathers gave to Trenmor, is thine that thou mayeft depart renowned like the fun fetting in the weft.

King of the race of Morven, faid the chief of the waves of Lochlin; never will Swaran fight thee, first of a thousand heroes! I faw thee in the halls of Starno, and few were thy years beyond my own. When fhall I,

faid I to my foul, lift the fpear like the noble Fingal? We have fought heretofore, o warrior, on the fide of the fhaggy Malmor; after my waves had carried me to thy halls, and the feaft of a thousand fhells was fpread. Let the bards fend him, who overcame, to future years, for noble was the ftrife of heathy Malmor.

But many of the fhips of Lochlin have loft their youths on Lena. Take thefe, thou king of Morven, and be the friend of Swaran. And when thy fons fhall come to the mossy towers of Gormal, the feaft of fhells fhall be spread, and the combat offered on the vale.

Nor

Nor fhip, replied the king, fhall Fingal take, nor land of many hills. The defart is enough to me, with all its deer and woods. Rife on thy waves again, thou noble friend of Agandecca. Spread thy white fails to the beam of the morning, and return to the ecchoing hills of Gormal.

Bleft be thy foul, thou king of fhells, faid Swaran of the dark brown fhield. In peace thou art the gale of fpring. In war the mountain- ftorm. Take now my hand in friendfhip, thou noble king of Morven. Let thy bards mourn thofe who fell. Let Erin give the fons of Lochlin to earth; and raise the mosfy ftones of their fame. That the children of the north hereafter may behold the place where their fathers fought. And fome hunter may fay, when he leans on a moffy tomb, here Fingal and Swaran fought, the heroes of other years. Thus hereafter fhall he fay, and our fame fhall last for ever.

Swaran, faid the king of the hills, to-day our fame is greateft. We fhall pafs away like a dream. No found will be in the fields of ur battles. Our tombs will be loft in the

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