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sun-beam of youth, the noble son of Damman." “ Cairbar,” said the white-armed woman, “ give me half of the herd. No more will I remain in your halls. Di. vide the herd, dark Cairbar.”

« Let Cuthullin," said Cairbar, “ divide my herd on 1 the hin. His breast is the seat of justice. Depart, thou

light of beauty. I went and divided the herd. One snow-white bull remained ; I gave that bull to Cairbar. The wrath of Deugala rose.

“Son of Damman,” begun the fair, “Cuthullin pains my soul. I must hear of his death, or Lubar's stream shall roll over me. My pale ghost shall wander near thee, and mourn the wound of my pride. Pour out the blood of Cuthullin, or pierce this heaving breast.”

“ Deugala," said the fair-haired youth, “how shall I slay, the son of Semo? He is the friend of my secret thoughts, and shall I lift the sword? She wept three days before him, on the fourth he consented to fight, :

“I will fight my friend, Deugala! but may I fall by his sword! Could I wander on the hill and behold the grave of Cuthullin !" We fought on the hills of Muri. Our swords avoid a wound. They slide on the helmets of steel, and sound on the slippery shields. Deugala was near with a smile, and said to the son of Damman: “ Thine arm is feeble, thou sun-beam of youth. Thy years are not strong for steel. Yield to the son of Semo. He is like the rock of Malmor."

The tear is in the eye of youth. He, faultering, said to me: “ Cuthullin, raise thy bossy shield. Defend thee from the hand of thy friend. My soul is laden with grief: for I must slay the chief of men.

I sighed as the wind in the chink of a rock. I lifted high the edge of my steel. The sun-beam of the bat. tle fell; the first of Cuthullin's friends.

Unhappy is the hand of Cuthullin since the hero fell.

“ Mournful is thy tale, son of the car," said Carril of other times. “ It sends my soul back to the ages of old, and to the days of other years. Often have I heard of Comal who slew the friend he loved ; yet victory

attended his steel; and the battle was consumed in his presence.

" Comal was a son of Albion; the chief of an hun. dred hills. His deer drunk of a thousand streams. A thousand rocks replied to the voice of his dogs. His face was the mildness of youth. His hand the death of heroes. One was his love, and fair was she! the daughter of mighty Conloch. She appeared like a sun-beam among women. And her hair was like the wing of the raven. Her dogs were taught to the chase. Her bow. string sounded on the winds of the forest. Her soul was fixed on Comal. Often met their eyes of love. Their course in the chase was one, and happy were their words in secret. But Gormal loved the maid, the dark chief of the gloomy Ardven. He' watched her lone steps in the heath; the foe of unhappy Comal.

One day, tired of the chase, when the mist had con. cealed their friends, Comal and the daughter of Con. loch met in the cave of Ronan". It was the wonted haunt of Comal. Its sides were hung with his arms. A hundred shields of thongs were there ; a hundred helms of sounding steel..

“Rest here,” he said, “my love Galvina; thou light of the cave of Ronan. A deer appears on Mora's brow. I go; but I will soon return." “ I fear,” she said, “ dark Grumal my foe ; he haunts the cave of Ronan, I will rest among the arms; but soon return, my love."

“ He went to the deer of Mora. The daughter of Conloch would try his love. She clothed her white sides with his armour, and strode from the cave of Ronan. He thought it was his foe, His heart beat high. His colour changed, and darkness dimmed his eye. He drew the bow. The arrow flew. Galvina fell in blood. He run with wildness in his steps, and called the daughter of Conloch. No answer in the - lonely rock. " Where art thou, O my love !" He

R The unfortunate death of this Ronan is the subject of the ninth fragment of As. oient Poetry, published in 1764 ; it is not the work of Ossian, though it is writ in his manner, and bears the genuine marks of antiquity. The concise expressions of Ossias are imitated, but the thoughts are too jejune and confined to be the production of that poet. Many poe:ns go under his name that have been evidently composed siace s time; they are very numerous in Ireland, and some have come to the translator's Lands. They are trivial and dull to the last degree, swelling into ridiculous bogabasta

j' sinking into the lowest kind of prosaic style.

saw at length her heaving heart beating around the feathered dart. “O Conloch's daughter, is it thou !"He sunk upon her breast.

" The hunters found the hapless pair; he afterwards walked the hill. But many and silent were his steps around the dark dwelling of his love. The fleet of the ocean came. He fought; the strangers fied. He searched for his death over the field. But who could kill the mighty Comal! He threw away his dark brown shield. An arrow found his manly breast. He sleeps with his loved Galvina at the noise of the sounding surge. Their green tombs are seen by the mariner, when he bounds on the waves of the north.”

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The argument.

Cuthullin, pleased with the story of Carril, insists with that bard for more of his songs

He relates the actions of Fingal in Lochlin, and death of Arandecca the beautiful sis. ter of Swaran. He had scarce finished, when Calmar the son of Matha, who had ad. vised the first battle, came wounded from the field, and told them of Swaran's design to surprise the remains of the Irish army. He himself proposes to withstand singly the whole force of the enemy, in a narrow pass, till the Irish should make good their retreat. Cuthullin, touched with the gallant proposal of Calmar, resolves to accompany him, and orders Carril to carry off the few that remained of the Irish. Morning comes, Calmar dies of his wounds; and the ships of the Caledonians appearing, Swaran gives over the pursuit of the Irish, and returns to oppose Fingal's landing. Cuthullin ashamed, after his defeat, to appear before Fingal, retires to the cave of Tura. Fingal engages the enemy, puts them to flight ; but the coming on of night makes the victory not decisive. The king, who had observed the gallant behaviour of his grandson Oscar, gives hin advices concerning his conduct in peace and war. He recommends to him to place the example of his fathers before his eyes, as the best model for his conduct; which introduces the episode concerning Fainasoilis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken under his protection, in his youth. Fillan and Oscar are dispatched to observe the motions of the enemy by night. Gaul the son of Morni desires the coinmand of the arıny in the next battle; which Fingal promises to give him. Some geceral reflections of the poet close the third day.

BOOK III. “ PLEASANT are the words of the song,” said Cuthullin, “ and lovely are the tales of other times. They are like the calm dew of the morning on the hill of 'roes, when the sun is faint on its side, and the lake is settled and blue in the vale. O Carril, raise again thy voice, and let me hear the song of Tura; which was sung in my halls of joy, when Fingal king of shields was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers."

“ Fingal! thou man of battle,” said Carril, “ early were thy deeds in arms. Lochlin was consumed in thy wrath, when thy youth strove with the beauty of maids. They smiled at the fair blooming face of the hero; but death was in his hands. He was strong as the waters of Lora. His followers were like the roar of a thousand streams. They took the king of Lochlin in battle, but restored him to his ships. His big heart swelled

1 The second night since the opening of the poem continues, and Cuthullin, Connay and Carril, still sit in the place described in the preceding book. The story of Agande is introduced here with propriety, as great usc is made of it in the course of the poet,

it in some measure brings about the catastrophe.

with pride; and the death of the youth was dark in his soul. For none ever but Fingal overcame the strength of the mighty Stamnom.

He sat in the halls of his shells in Lochlin's woody land. He called the grey. haired Snivan, that often sung round the circle” of Loda; when the stone of power heard his cry, and the battle turned in the field of the valiant.

“ Go, grey-haired Snivan," Starno said, “ go to Arven's sea-surrounded rocks. Tell to Fingal king of the desart, he that is the fairest among his thousands, tell him I give him my daughter, the loveliest maid that ever heaved a breast of snow. Her arms are white as the foam of my waves. Her soul is generous and mild. Let him come with his bravest heroes to the daughter of the secret hall."

Snivan came to Albion's windy hills : and fair-haired Fingal went. His kindled soul flew before him as he bounded on the waves of the north.

66 Welcome,” said the dark-brown Starno, “ welcome king of rocky Morven; and ye his heroes of might; sons of the lonely isle! Three days within my halls shall ye feast; and three days pursue my boars, that your fame may reach the maid that dwells in the secret hall.”

“ The king of snowo design'd their death, and gave the feast of shells. Fingal, who doubted the foe, kept on his arms of steel. The sons of death were afraid, and fled from the eyes of the hero. The voice of sprightly mirth arose. The trembling harps of joy are strung. Bards sing the battle of heroes; or the heav. ing breast of love. Ullin, Fingal's bard was there; the sweet voice of the hill of Cona. He praised the daugh. ter of snow, and Morven's high-descended chief. The daughter of snow overheard, and left the hall of

m Starno was the father of Swaran as well as Agandecca. His fierce and cruel cha racter is well marked in other poems concerning the times.

n This passage most certainly alludes to the religion of Lochlin, and the stone of power' here mentioned, is the image of one of the deities of Scandinavia.

. Starno is here poetically called the king of snow, from the great quantities of snow that fall in his dominions.

All the north-west coast of Scotland probably went of old under the name of Mor von, which signifies a ridge of very high hills.

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