fhe is feen, Malvina! but not like the daughters of the hill. Her robes are from the ftranger's land; and fhe is ftill

alone!

Fingal was fad for Carthon; he commanded his bards to mark the day, when fhadowy autumn returned: And often did they mark the day, and fing the hero's praise. "Who comes fo dark from ocean's roar, like autumn's fhadowy cloud? Death is trembling in his hand! his eyes are flames of fire! Who roars along dark Lora's heath? Who but Carthon, king of fwords! The people fall! fee! how he ftrides, like the fullen ghoft of Morven ! But there he lies a goodly oak, which fudden blafts overturned! When fhalt thou rife, Balclutha's joy? When, Carthon, shalt thou arife? Who comes fo dark from ocean's roar, like autumn's fhadowy cloud?" Such were the words of the bards, in the day of their mourning: Offian often joined their voice; and added to their fong. My foul has been mournful for Carthon; he fell in the days of his youth and thou, O Cleffámmor! where is thy dwelling in the wind? Has the youth forgot his wound? Flies he, on clouds, with thee? I feel the fun, O Malvina! leave me to my reft. Perhaps they may come to my dreams; I

think I hear a feeble voice! The beam of
heaven delights to fhine on the grave of
Carthon I feel it warm around!

O thou that rolleft above, round as the
fhield of my fathers! Whence are thy
beams, O fun! thy everlasting light? Thou
comeft forth, in thy awful beauty; the
ftars hide themselves in the fky; the moon,
cold and pale, finks in the western wave.
But thou thyself movest alone: who can be
a companion of thy courfe! The oaks of
the mountains fall: the mountains them-
felves decay with years; the ocean fhrinks
and grows again: the moon herself is loft
in heaven; but thou art for ever the fame;
rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.
When the world is dark with tempefts;
when thunder rolls, and lightning flies;
thou lookeft in thy beauty, from the clouds,
and laugheft at the ftorm. But to Offian,
thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy
beams no more; whether thy yellow hair
flows on the eastern clouds, or thou trem-
bleft at the gates of the weft. But thou
art perhaps, like me, for a season, thy
years will have an end. Thou shalt fleep
in thy clouds, carelefs of the voice of the
morning. Exult then, O fun! in the
ftrength of thy youth! Age is dark and

unlovely; it is like the glimmering light

+ "hind the mighty uprous while below The Nations tremble Shakespere looks abroad From some high cliff enforiertenjoys The elemental was.» Akenside. l.I.

of the moon, when it shines through broken clouds, and the mift is on the hills; the blast of north is on the plain, the traveller fhrinks in the midst of his journey.

"Cerahere this with Miltons Introduct to his 3° Book P.L.

OINA-MORUL:

Α

POE M.

VOL. I.

H

ARGUMENT.

After an address to Malvina, the daughter of Tofcar, Offian proceeds to relate his own expedition to Fuärfed, an island of Scandinavia. Mal-orchol, king of Fuärfed, being hard preffed in war, by Tonthormod, chief of Sar-dronlo, (who had demanded, in vain, the daughter of Mal-orchol in marriage), Fingal fent Offian to his aid. Offian, on the day after his arrival, came to battle with Ton-thormod, and took him prifoner. Mal-orchol offers his daughter Oina-morul to Offian; but he, discovering her paffion for Ton-thormod, generously surrenders her to her lover, and brings about a reconciliation between the two kings.