foe had failed. Ton-thormod turned his face away, from Oina-morul of ifles!

Son of Fingal, begun Mal-orchol, not forgot fhalt thou pass from me. A light fhall dwell in thy fhip, Oina-morul of flow-rolling eyes. She fhall kindle gladnefs, along thy mighty foul. Nor unheeded fhall the maid move in Selma, thro' the dwelling of kings!

In the hall I lay in night. Mine eyes were half-clofed in fleep. Soft mufic came to mine ear it was like the rifing breeze, that whirls, at first, the thistle's beard; then flies, dark-fhadowy, over the grafs. It was the maid of Fuärfed wild! fhe raifed the nightly fong; fhe knew that my foul was a stream, that flowed at pleasant founds, "Who looks," fhe faid, "from his rock, on ocean's closing mist? His long locks, like the raven's wing, are wandering on the blast. Stately are his fteps in grief! The tears are in his eyes! His manly breast is heaving over his bursting foul! Retire, I am diftant far ; a wanderer in lands unknown. Tho' the race of kings are around me, yet my foul is dark. Why have our fathers been foes, Ton-thormod love of maids!"

"Soft voice of the ftreamy ifle," I faid, "why doft thou mourn by night? The race of daring Trenmor are not the dark in foul. Thou fhalt not wander, by ftreams unknown, blue-eyed Oina-morul! Within this bofom is a voice; it comes not to other ears: it bids Offian hear the hapless, in their hour of woe. Retire, foft finger by night! Ton-thormod fhall not mourn on his rock!"

With morning I loofed the king. I gave the long-haired maid. Mal-orchol heard my words, in the midst of his echoing halls. "King

of

of Fuärfed wild, why fhould Ton-thormod mourn? He is of the race of heroes, and a flame in war. Your fathers have been foes, but now their dim ghosts rejoice in death. They. ftretch their hands of mift to the fame shell in Loda. Forget their rage, ye warriors! it was the cloud of other years."

Such were the deeds of Offian, while yet his locks were young: tho' lovelinefs, with a robe of beams, clothed the daughter of many ifles. We call back, maid of Lutha, the years that. have rolled away!

COLN AD ON A

POE M.

ARGUMENT.

Fingal difpatches Offian and Tofcar, the fon of Conloch and father of Malvina, to raise a stone, on the banks of the ftream of Crona, to perpetuate the memory of a victory, which he had obtained in that place. When they were employed in that work, Car-ul, a neighbouring chief, in--vited them to a feaft. They went and Toscar fell despe--rately in love with Colna-dona, the daughter of Car-ul. Colna-dona became no lefs enamoured of Tofcar. An incident, at a hunting party, brings their loves to a hap Py iffue.