The chiefs stood silent around, as the stones of Loda, on their hill. The traveller sees them, through the twilight, from his lonely path. He thinks them the ghosts of the aged, forming fu

ture wars.

at

66 Night came down on U-thorno. Still stood the chiefs in their grief. The blast whistled, by turns, through every warrior's hair. Fingal, length, broke forth from the thoughts of his soul. He called Ullin of harps, and bade the song to rise. "No falling fire, that is only seen, and then retires in night; no departing meteor was he that is laid so low. He was like the strongbeaming sun, long rejoicing on his hill. Call the names of his fathers, from their dwellings old!"

I-thorno*, said the bard, that risest midst ridgy seas! Why is thy head so gloomy, in the

* This episode is, in the original, extremely beautiful. It is set to that wild kind of music, which some of the Highlanders distinguish by the title of Fon Oi-marra, or, the Song of Mermaids. Some part of the air is absolutely infernal, but there are many returns in the meawhich are inexpressibly wild and beautiful. From the genius of the music, I should think it came originally from Scandinavia; for the fictions delivered down

sure,

ocean's mist? From thy vales came forth a race, fearless as thy strong-winged eagles; the race of Colgorm of iron-shields, dwellers of Loda's hall.

In Tormoth's resounding isle, arose Lurthan, streamy hill. It bent its woody head over a silent vale. There, at foamy Cruruth's source, dwelt Rurmar, hunter of boars! His daughter was fair as a sun-beam, white-bosomed Strinadona!

Many a king of heroes, and hero of iron. shields; many a youth of heavy locks came to Rurmar's echoing hall. They came to woo the maid, the stately huntress of Tormoth wild. But thou lookest careless from thy steps, high-bosomed Strina-dona!

If on the heath she moved, her breast was whiter than the down of Cana *; if on the sea-'

concerning the Oi-marra (who are reputed the authors of the music) exactly correspond with the notions of the northern nations, concerning their dire, or goddesses of death. Of all the names in this episode, there is none of a Gaelic original, except Strina-dona, which signifies, the strife of heroes.

*The Cana is a certain kind of grass, which grows plentiful in the heathy morasses of the north. Its stalk

beat shore, than the foam of the rolling ocean. Her eyes were two stars of light. Her face was heaven's bow in showers. Her dark hair flowed round it, like the streaming clouds. Thou wert the dweller of souls, white-handed Strinadona!

Colgorm came, in his ship, and Corcul-suran, king of shells. The brothers came, from I-thornc, to woo the sun-beam of Tormoth wild. She saw them in their echoing steel. Her soul was fixed on blue-eyed Colgorm. Ul-lochlin's * nightly eye looked in, and saw the tossing arms of Strina-dona.

Wrathful the brothers frowned. Their flaming eyes, in silence, met. They turned away. They struck their shields. Their hands were trembling on their swords. They rushed into the strife of heroes, for long-haired Strina-dona.

Corcul-suran fell in blood. On his isle, raged the strength of his father. He turned Colgorm, from I-thorno, to wander on all the winds.

is of the reedy kind, and it carries a tuft of down, very much resembling cotton. It is excessively white, and, consequently, often introduced by the bards, in their similes concerning the beauty of women.

* Ul-lochlin, the guide to Lochlin; the name of a star.

In Crathmo-craulo's rocky field, he dwelt by a foreign stream. Nor darkened the king alone, that beam of light was near, the daughter of echoing Tormoth, white-armed Strina-dona †.

+ The continuation of this episode is just now in my hands; but the language is so different from, and the ideas so unworthy of Ossian, that I have rejected it, as an interpolation by a modern bard.