Page images
PDF
EPUB

I feized their fair heads, on high, as they waved by their fecret ftreams. Thou art dark and filent, king of Atha of strangers.

By Atha of the ftreams, he said, there rises a moffy rock. On its head is the wandering of boughs, within the course of winds. Dark in its face, is a cave with its own loud rill.There have I heard the tread of ftrangers (1), when they paffed to my hall of shells. Joy rofe, like a flame, on my foul: I bleft the echoing rock. Here be my dwelling, in darkness, in my graffy vale. From this I shall mount the breeze, that pursues my thistle's beard; or look down, on blue-winding Atha, from its wandering mift.

Why speaks the king of the tomb ?

ear.

(1) The hofpitable difpofition of Cathmor was unparalleled. He reflects, with pleasure, even in his laft moments on the relief he had afforded to ftrangers. The very tread of their feet was pleasant in his - His hofpitality was not paffed unnoticed by fucceeding bards; for, with them, it became a proverb, when they defcribed the hofpitable difpofition ofa hero, that he was like Cathmor of Atha, the friend of ftrangers. It will feem ftrange, that, in all the Irish traditions, there is no mention made of Cathmor. This must be attributed to the revolutions and domeftic confufions which happened in that island, and utterly cut off all the real traditions concerning fo ancient a period. All that we have related of the ftate of Ireland before the fifth century is of late invention, and the work of ill informed fenachies and injudicious bards.

[ocr errors]

Offian! the warrior has failed! - Joy meet thy foul, like a ftream, Cathmor, friend of ftrangers! My fon, I hear the call of years; they take my fpear as they pafs along. Why does not Fingal, they feem to say, reft within his hall Doft thou always delight in blood? In the tears of the fad ? No: ye

?

darkly-rolling years, Fingal delights not in blood. Tears are wintry ftreams that waste away my foul. But, when I lie down to reft, then comes the mighty voice of war. It awakes me, in my hall and calls forth all my steel.

[ocr errors]

It shall call it forth no more; Offian, take thou thy father's fpear. Lift it, in battle, when the proud arife.

[ocr errors]

My fathers, Offian, trace my fteps; my deeds are pleasant to their eyes. Wherever I come forth to battle, on my field, are their columns of mift. But mine arm rescued the feeble; the haughty found my rage was fire. Never over the fallen did mine eye rejoice. For this (1) my fathers shall meet me, at the

[ocr errors]

(1) We fee, from this paffage, that, even in the times of Offian, and, confequently, before the introduction of christianity, they had some idea of rewards and punishments after death. - Those who behaved, in life, with bravery and virtue, were received, with joy, to the airy halls of their fathers: but the dark in foul, to ufe the expreffion of the poet, were fpurned away from the habitation of heroes, to wander on all the winds. Another opinion, which

gates of their airy halls, tall, with robes of light, with mildly-kindled eyes. But, to the proud in arms, they are darkened moons in heaven, which fend the fire of night, redwandering over their face.

Father of heroes, Trenmor, dweller of eddying winds !I give thy fpear to Offian, let thine eye rejoice. Thee have I feen, at times, bright from between thy clouds; fo appear to my fon, when he is to lift the fpear: then shall he remember thy mighty deeds, though thou art now but a blaft.

He gave the fpear to my hand, and raised, at once, a ftone on high, to speak to future times, with its grey head of mofs. Beneath he placed a fword(1) in earth, and one bright bofs

prevailed in thofe times, tended not a little to make individuals emulous to excel one another in martial atchievements. It was thought, that, in the hall of clouds, every one had a feat, raised above others, in proportion as he excelled them, in valour, when he lived. The fimile in this paragraph is new, and, if I may use the expreffion of a bard, who alludes to it, beautifully terrible.

Mar dhubh-reül, an croma nan speur,

A thaomas teina na h'oicha,
Dearg fruthach, air h'aighai' fein.

(1) There are fome ftones ftill to be feen in the north, which were erected, as memorials of fome remarkable tranfactions between the ancient chiefs, There are generally found, beneath them, fome

from his shield. Dark in thought, a-while, he bends : his words, at length, came forth.

When thou, Oftone, shall moulder down, and lose thee,in the moss of years, then shall thetravellercome, and whistling pass away.Thou know'ft not, feeble wanderer, that fame once shone on Moi-lena. Here Fingal refigned his fpear, after the last of his fields. -Pafs away, thou empty shade; in thy voice there is no renown. Thou dwelleft by fome peaceful ftream; yet a few years, and thou art gone. No one remembers thee, thou dweller of thick mift! But Fingal shall be clothed with fame, a beam of light to other times; for he went forth, in echoing fteel, to fave the weak in arms.

Brightening in his fame, the king ftrode to Lubar's founding oak, where it bent, from its rock, over the bright tumbling ftream. Beneath it is a narrow plain, and the found of the fount of the rock. Here the standard (1) of

[ocr errors]

piece of arms, and a bit of half-burnt wood. The caufe of placing the last there is not mentioned in tradition.

(1) The erecting of his standard on the bank of Lubar, was the fignal, which Fingal, in the beginning of the book, promised to give to the chiefs, who went to conduct Ferad-artho to the army, should he himself prevail in battle. This standard here ( and in every other part of Offian's poems, where it is

--

Morven poured its wreaths on the wind, to mark the way of Ferad-artho, from his fecret vale. Bright, from his parted weft, the fun of heaven looked abroad. The hero faw his people, and heard their shouts of joy. In broken ridges round, they glittered to the beam. The king rejoiced, as ahunter in his own green vale, when, after the ftorm is rolled away, he fees the gleaming fides ofthe rocks. The green thorn shakes its head in their face; from their top, look forward the roes.

(1) Grey, at his moffy cave, is bent the aged form of Clonmal. The eyes of the bard had failed. He leaned forward, on his staff. Bright in her locks, before him, Sul-malla listened to the tale; the tale of the kings of Atha, in the days of old. The noife of battle had ceased in his ear: he ftopt, and raised the secret figh. The fpirits of the dead, they faid, often lightened over his foul. He faw the king of Atha low, beneath his bending tree.

mentioned) is called, the fun-beam. The reafon of this appellation, I gave, more than once in my notes in the preceding volume.

[ocr errors]

(1) The poet changes the fcene to the valley of Lona, whither Sul-malla had been fent, by Cathmor, before the battle. Clonmal, an aged bard, or rather druid, as he feems here to be endued with a prefcience of events, had long dwelt there, in a cave. This fcene is awful and folemn, and calcu lated to throw a melancholy gloom over the mind.

« PreviousContinue »