Ullin the land of groves. Son - mor ftruck his shield, at times, the leader of the war. Far behind followed Sul-allin (1), over the ftreamy hills. She was a light on the mountain, when they croffed the vale below. Her fteps were ftately on the vale, when they rofe on the moffy hill. She feared to approach the king, who left her in Atha of hinds. But when the roar of battle rofe; when hoft was rolled on hoft; when Son- mor burnt, like the fire of heaven in clouds, with her spreading hair came Sul-allin; for she trembled for her king. He ftopt the rushing ftrife to fave the love of heroes. The foe fled by night; Clunar flept without his blood; the blood which ought to be poured upon the warrior's tomb. - Nor rofe the rage of Son-mor, but his days were dark and flow. Sul-allin wandered, by her grey ftreams, with her tearful eyes. Often did she look, on the hero, when he was folded in his thoughts. But she shrunk from his eyes, and turned her lone steps away. Battles rofe, like a tempeft, and drove the mift from his foul. He beheld, with joy, her fteps in the hall, and the white rifing of her hands on the harp. (1) Suil-alluin, beautiful eye, the wife of Son-more (1) In his arms ftrode the chief of Atha, to where his shield hung, high, in night: high on a moffy bough, over Lubar's ftreamy roar. Seven boffes rofe on the shield; the feven voices of the king, which his warriors received, from the wind, and marked over all their tribes. On each bofs is placed a ftar of night; Canmathon with beams unshorn; Col-derna (1) The poet returns to his subject. The defcrip tion of the shield of Cathmor is valuable, on account of the light it throws on the progrefs of arts in thofe early times. Those who draw their ideas of remote antiquity from their observations on the manners of modern favage nations, will have no high opinion of the workmanship of Cathmor's shield. To remove fome part of their prejudice, I shall only obferve, that the Belge of Britain, who were the ancestors of the Firbolg, were a commercial people and commerce, we might prove, from many shining examples of our own times, is the proper inlet of arts and fciences, and all that exalts the human mind. To avoid multiplying notes, I shall give here the fignification of the names of the ftars, engraved on the shield. Cean-mathon, head of the bear. Colderna, flant and sharp beam. Ul-oicho, ruler of night. Cathlin, beam of the wave. Reul-durath, star of the twilight. Berthin, fire of the hill. Tonthéna, meteor of the waves. These etymologies, excepting that of Cean-mathon, are pretty exact. Of it I am not fo certain; for it is not very probable, that the Firbolg had diftinguished a conftellation, fọ very early as the days of Larthon, by the name of the bear, t; rifing from a cloud; Uloicho robed in mist and the foft beam of Cathlin glittering on a rock. Fair-gleaming on its own blue wave, Reldurath half-finks its western light. The red eye of Berthin looks, through a grove, on the flow-moving hunter, as he returns through showery night, with the spoils of the bounding roe. Wide, in the midft, arofe the cloudlefs beams of Ton-théna; Ton-théna which looked, by night, on the course of the fea-toffed Larthon: Larthon, the first of Bolga's race, who travelled on the winds (1). White-bofomed spread the fails of the king, towards ftreamy Inisfail; dun night was rolled before him, with its skirts of mift. The winds were changeful in heaven, and rolled him from wave to wave.Then rofe the fiery-haired Ton-théna, and laughed from her parted cloud. Larthon (2) rejoiced at the guiding beam, as it faint◄ gleamed on the tumbling waters. (1) To travel on the winds, a poetical expreffion for failing. (2) Larthon is compounded of Lear, fea, and thon, wave. This name was given to the chief of the first colony of the Firbolg, who fettled in Ireland, on account of his knowledge in navigation. A part of an old poem is ftill extant, concerning this hero. The author of it, probably, took the hint from the epifode in this book, relating to the first difcovery of Ireland by Larthon. It abounds with those romantic fables of giants and magicians, which Beneath the fpear of Cathmor, awaked that voice which awakes the bards. They came, dark-winding, from every fide; each, with the found of his harp. Before them rejoiced the king, as the traveller, in the day of the fun; when he hears, far-rolling around, the murmur of moffy ftreams; ftreams that burft, in the defert, from the rock of roes. diftinguish the compofitions of the less ancient bards. The defcriptions, contained in it, are ingenious and proportionable to the magnitude of the perfons introduced; but, being unnatural, they are infipid and tedious. Had the bard kept within the bounds of probability, his genius was far from being contemptible. The exordium of his poem is not destitute of merit; but it is the only part of it, that I think worthy of being prefented to the reader. 9 "Who firft fent the black ship, thro' ocean like a whale thro' the bursting of foam? Look, from thy darkness, on Cronath, Offian of the harps of old! Send thy light on the blue-rolling waters, that I may behold the king. I fee him dark in his own shell of oak! fea-toffed Larthon, thy foul is fire. - It is carelefs as the wind of thy fails; as the wave that rolls by thy fide. But the filent green ifle is before thee with its fons, who are tall as woody Lumon; Lumon which fends, from its top, a thousand streams, white-wandering down its. fides. - It may, perhaps, be for the credit of this bard, to tranflate no more of this, poem, for the conti nuation of his defeription of the Irish giants betrays his want of judgment, Why, faid Fonar, hear we the voice of the king, in the season of his reft? Were the dim forms of thy fathers bending in thy dreams? Perhaps they ftand on that cloud, and wait for Fonar's fong; often they come to the fields where their fons are to lift the fpear. Or shall our voice arife for him who lifts the fpear no more; he that confumed the field, from Moma of the groves? Not forgot is that cloud in war, bard of other times. High shall his tomb rise, on Moilena, the dwelling of renown. But, now, roll back my foul to the times of my fathers: to the years when first they rose, on Inishuna's waves. Nor alone pleasant to Cathmoris the remembrance of wood-covered Lumon.Lumon the land of streams, the dwelling of white-bofomed maids. (1) Lumon of foamy ftreams, thou risest on Fonar's foul! Thy fun is on thy fide, on the rocks of thy bending trees. The dun roe is (1) Lumon, as I have remarked in a preceding note, was a hill, in Inis-huna, near the refidence of Sul-malla. This epifode has an immediate connection with what is faid of Larthon, in the defcription of Cathmor's shield. We have there hinted to us only Larthon's firft voyage to Ireland; here his ftory is related, at large, and a curious defcription of shipbuilding. This concife, but expreffive, episode has been much admired in the original. Its brevity is remarkably suited to the hurry of the occasion. feen |