The moon moved red from the mountain. My fong, at times, arofe. Dark, on the other fide, young Cathmor heard my voice; for he lay, beneath the oak, in all his gleaming arms. Morning came; we rushed to fight from wing to wing is the rolling of ftrife. They fell like the thistle's head, beneath autumnal winds." "In armour came a ftately form: I mixed my ftrokes with the chief. By turns our shields are pierced: loud rung our fteelly mails. His helmet fell to the ground. In brightness fhone the foe. His eyes, two pleasant flames, rolled between his wandering locks. I knew Cathmor of Atha, and threw my spear on earth. Dark, we turned, and filent paffed to mix with other foes." "Not fo paffed the ftriving kings *. They mixed in echoing fray: like the meeting of ghofts, in the dark wing of winds. Through either breaft rushed the fpears; nor yet lay the foes on earth! A fort of argument, that the Caledonians were not originally a colony of Scandinavians, as fome have imagined. Concerning fo remote a period, mere conjecture must fupply the place of argument and pofitive proofs. * Culgorm and Suran-dronlo. The combat of the kings and their attitude in death are highly picturefque, and expreffive of that ferocity of manners, which diftinguished the northern nations. IO rock rock received their fall; half-reclined they lay in death. Each held the lock of his foe; each grimly feemed to roll his eyes. The ftream of the rock leapt on their shields, and mixed below with blood. The "The battle ceafed in I-thorno. ftrangers met in peace: Cathmor from Atha of ftreams, and Offian, king of harps. We placed the dead in earth. Our steps were. by Runar's bay. With the bounding boat, afar, advanced a ridgy wave. Dark was the rider of feas, but a beam of light was there, like the ray of the fun, in Stromlo's rolling fmoak. It was the daughter * of Suran Tradition has handed down the name of this princefs. The bards call her Runo-forlo, which has no other sort of title for being genuine, but its not being of Galic original; a diftinction which the bards had not the art to preferve, when they feigned names for foreigners. The highland fenachies, who very often endeavoured to fupply the deficiency they thought they found in the tales of Offian, have given us the continuation of the ftory of the daughter of Suran-dronlo. The catastrophe is fo unnatural, and the circumstances of it fo ridiculously pompous, that, for the fake of the inventors, I fhall conceal them. The wildly beautiful appearance of Runo-forlo, made a deep impreffion on a chief, fome ages ago, who was himself no contemptible poet. The story is romantic, but not incredible, if we make allowances for the lively imagination of a man of genius. Our chief failing, in a storm, along one of the islands of Orkney, faw a woman, in a boat, near the fhore, whom he thought, Suran-dronlo, wild in brightened looks. Her eyes were wandering flames, amidft difordered locks. Forward is her white arm, with the fpear; her high heaving breast is feen, white as foamy waves that rife, by turns, amidst rocks. They are beautiful, but terrible, and mariners call the winds!" "Come, ye dwellers of Loda!" fhe faid, "come, Carchar, pale in the midt of clouds! Sluthmor that ftrideft in airy halls! Corchtur, terrible in winds! Receive, from his daughter's fpear, the foes of Surandronlo. No fhadow, at his roaring ftreams; no mildly-looking form was he! When he took up his fpear, the hawks fhook their founding wings: for blood was poured thought, as he expreffes it himself, as beautiful as a fudden ray of the fun, on the dark heaving deep. The verfes of Offian, on the attitude of Runo-forlo, which was fo fimilar to that of the woman in the boat, wrought so much on his fancy, that he fell desperately in love. The winds, however, drove him from the coaft, and, after a few days, he arrived at his refidence in Scotland. There his paffion increased to such a degree, that two of his friends, fearing the confequence, failed to the Orkneys, to carry to him the object of his defire. Upon inquiry they foon found the nymph, and carried her to the enamoured chief; but mark his furprize, when, inftead of a ray of the fun, he faw a fkinny fifherwoman, more than middle aged, appearing before him. Tradition here ends the story: but it may be easily supposed that the paffion of the chief foon fubfided. I around around the steps of dark-eyed Suran-dronlo. He lighted me, no harmless beam, to glitter on his ftreams. Like meteors, I was bright, but I blafted the foes of Suran-dronlo." * * Nor unconcerned heard Sul-malla, the praise of Cathmor of fhields. He was within her foul, like a fire in fecret heath, which awakes at the voice of the blast, and fends its beam abroad. Amidst the song removed the daughter of kings, like the voice of a fummer-breeze; when it lifts the heads of flowers, and curls the lakes and streams. The ruftling found gently fpreads o'er the vale, foftly-pleafing as it faddens the foul. By night came a dream to Offian; formlefs ftood the fhadow of Trenmor. He feemed to ftrike the dim fhield, on Selma's ftreamy rock. I rofe, in my rattling steel; I knew that war was near, before the winds our fails were spread; when Lemon shewed its ftreams to the morn. Come from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely beam! |