« PreviousContinue »
I hear the roar of battle. My people are alone. My steps are slow on the heath, and no shield is mine-Shall he then prevail : —It is then after Dermid is low ! I will call thee forth, O Foldath, and meet thee yet in fight.
he was overpowered and slain. He was buried sm the place where he was killed , and the valley was called after his name. Dermid , in his request to Gaul the son of Morni , which immediately follows this paragraph, alludes to the tomb of Clono, and his own conneétion with that unfortunate chief.
which Ossian has chosen to diversify his battles, are interesting, and never fail to awaken our attention. I know that want of particularity in the wounds , and diversity in the fall of those that are slain, have been among the objećtions, started., to the poetical merit of Ossian's poems. The criticism, without partiality I may say it , is unjust, for our poet has introduced as great a variety of this sort, as he , with propriety, could within the compass of so short poems. It is confessed, that Homer has a greater variety of deaths than any other poet that ever appeared. His great knowledge in anatomy can never be disputed ; but, I am far from thinking, that his battles, even with all their novelty of wounds, are the most beautiful parts of his poems. The human mind dwells with disgust upon a protračted scene of carnage 3 and, tho' the introdućtion of the terrible is necessary to the grandeur of heroic poetry, yet I am convinced , that a medium ought to be observed,