Cuchullin and Connal fill remain on the hill. Fingal and Swaran meet; the combat is defcribed. Swaran is overcome, bound and delivered over as a prifoner to the care of Of fian and Gaul the, fon of Morni; Fingal, his younger fons, and Ofcar, ftill pursue the enemy. The episode of Orla a chief of Lochlin, who was mortally wounded in the battle, is introduced. Fingal, touched with the death of Orla, orders the pursuit to be discon. inued; and calling his fons together, he is informed, that Ryno, the youngest of them, was killed. He laments his death, hears the ftory of Lamdarg and Gelchoffa, and returns towards the place where he had left Swaran. Carril, who had been fent by Cuchullin, to congratulate Fingal on his victory, comes in the mean time to Offian. The converfation of the two poets clofes the action of the fourth day. FINGA L, AN ANCIENT EPIC POEM IN SIX BOOKS. Now BOOK V. (1) ow Connal, on Cromla's windy fide, spoke to the chief of the noble car. Why that gloom, fon of Semo? Our friends are the mighty in battle. And renowned art thou, o ware [1] The fourth day ftill continues, The poet, by put ting the narration in the mouth of Connal, who ftill remained with Cuchullin 011 the fide of Cromla, gives propriety to the praises of Fingal The beginning of this book, in the original, is one of the most beautiful parts of the poem. The verfification is regular and full, and agrees very well with the fedate character of Commal. No poet has adapted the cadence of his 'verse more to the temper of the speaker, than Offian o warrior! many were the deaths of thy fteel. Often has Bragela met with blue rolling eyes of joy, often has fhe met her hero, returning in the midst of the valiant; when his fword was red with flaughter, and his foes filent in the fields of the tomb. Pleasant to her ears were thy bards, when thine actions rofe in the fong. But behold the king of Morven; he moves below like a pillar of fire. His strength is like the ftream of Lubar, or the wind of the ecchoing Cromla; when the branchy forests of night are overturned. Happy are thy people, o Fingal, thine arm fhall fight their battles: thou art the first in their dangers; the wifeft in the days of their peace. Thou speakest and thy thousands obey; and armies tremble at the found of thy fteel. Happy are thy people, Fingal, chief of the lonely hills. Who has done, It is more than probable, that the whole poem was originally defigned to be fung to the harp, as the verfification is fo various, and, fo much fuited to the different paffions of the human mind. Who is that fo dark and terrible, coming in the thunder of his courfe? who is it but Starno's fon, to meet the king of Morven? Be. hold the battle of the chiefs: it is like the ftorm of the ocean, when two fpirits meet far diftant, and contend for the rolling of the wal ve. The hunter hears the noife on his hill; and fees the high billows advancing to Ardven's fhore. Such were the words of Connal, when the heroes met in the midst of their falling people. There was the clang of arms! there every blow, like the hundred hammers of the furnace! Terrible is the battle of the kings, and horrid the look of their eyes. Their dark brown fhields are cleft in twain; and their fteel flies, broken, from their helmets. They fling their weapons down. Each rufhes [2] to the grasp of his foe. [2] This paffage resembles one in the twenty third Iliad. Clofe lock'd above their heads and arms are mixt; Below their planted feet at diftance fixt; The humid fweat from ev'ry pore defcends; Their bones refound with blows: fides, fhoul ders, thighs, Swell to each gripe, and bloody tumours rise. POPE foe. Their finewy arms bend round each other: they turn from fide to fide, and ftrain and ftretch their large spreading limbs below. But when the pride of their strength arofe, they fhook the hill with their heels; rocks tumble from their places on high; the green - headed bufhes are overturned. At length the ftrength of Swaran fell; and the king of the groves is bound. Thus have I feen on Cona; (but Cona L behold no more) thus have I feen two dark hills removed from their place by the ftrength of the bursting ftream. They turn from tide to fide, and their tall oaks meet one another on high. Then they fall together with all their rocks and trees. The ftreams are turned by their fides, and the red ruin is feen afar. Sons of the king of Morven, faid the npble Fingal, guard the king of Lochlin; for he is ftrong as his thoufand waves. His hand is taught to the battle, and his race of the times of old, Gaul, thou firft of my heroes, and Offian king of fongs, attend the friend of Agandecca, and raife to joy his grief. But, Ofcar, Fillan, and Ryno, ye children of the |