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Soon will thy tomb be hid, and the grass grow rank on thy grave. The sons of the feeble shall pass over it, and shall not know that the mighty lie there.

"Ossian and Fillan, sons of my strength, and Gaul king of the blue swords of war, let us ascend the hill to the cave of Tura, and find the chief of the battles of Erin. Are these the walls of Tura? grey and lonely they rise on the heath. The king of shells is sad, and the halls are desolate. Come, let us find the king of swords, and give him all our joy. But is that Cuthullin, O Fillan, or a pillar of smoke on the heath r The wind of Cromla is on my eyes, and I distinguish not my friend."

"Fingal !" replied the youth," it is the son of Semo. Gloomy and sad is the hero; his hand is on his sword. Hail to the son of battle, breaker of the shields'."

"Haii to thee'." replied Cuthullin, " hail to all the sons of Morven! Delightful is thy presence, O Fingal; it is like the sun on Cromla, when the hunter mourns his absence for a season, and sees him between the clouds. Thy sons are like stars that attend thy course, and give light in the night. It is not thus thou hast seen me, O Fingal, returning from the wars of the desart, when the king of the world"' had fled, and joy retorned to the hill of hind9."

«' Many are thy words, Cuthullin," said Connan * of small renown. "Thy words are many, son of Semo, but where are thy deeds in arms? Why did we come over the ocean to aid thy feeble sword? Thou flyest to the cave of sorrow, and Connan fights thy battles: resign to me these arms of light; yield them, thou son of Frin."

"No hero," replied the chief, " ever sought the arms of Cuthullin; and had a thousand heroes sought them, it were in vain, thou gloomy youth. I fled not to the cave of sorrow, as long as Erin's warriors lived."

w This if the only passage in the poem, wherein the wars of Fingal against the Roroaiis are alluded to: the Koman Emperor is distinguished in old compositions by the title oi the king ol" tne world.

m Connan was of the family of Mmni. He is mentioned in several poems, and always appears with the same character. The poet passed him oyer in ailthce till now, and Lit Uaavicur here deserves no better usage.

"Youth of the feeble arm," said Fingal, " Connan, say no more. Cuthullin is renowned in battle, and terrible over the desart. Often have I heard thy fame, thou stormy chief of Inisfail. Spread now thy white sails for the isle of mist, and see Bragela leaning on her rock. Her tender eye is in tears, and the winds lift her long hair from her heaving breast. She listens to the winds of night to hear the voice of thy rowers'; to hear the song of the sea, and the sound of thy distant harp."

"And long shall she listen in vain; Cuthullin shall never return. How can I behold Bragela to raise the sigh of her breast? Fingal, I was always victorious in the battles of other spears!"

"And hereafter thou shalt be victorious," said Fingal king of shells. "The fame of Cuthullin shall grow like the branchy tree of Cromla. Many battles await thee, O chief, and many shall be the wounds of thy hand. Bring hither, Oscar, the deer, and prepare the feast of shells; that our souls may rejoice after danger, and our friends delight in our presence."

We sat, we feasted, and we sung. The soul of Cuthullin rose. The strength of his arms returned, and gladness brightened on his face. Ullin gave the song, and Carril raised the voice. I often joined the bards, and sung of battles of the spear. Battles! where I often fought: but now I fight no more. The fame of my former actions is ceased; and I sit forlorn at the tombs of my friends.

Thus they passed the night in the song; and brought back the morning with joy. Fingal arose on the heath, and shook his glittering spear. He moved first toward the plains of Lena, and we followed like a ridge of fire. "Spread the sail," said the king of Morven, " and catch the winds that pour from Lena." We rose on the wave with songs, and rushed, with joy, through the foam of the ocean.

t The practice of sinking when they row is universal asnonp. the inhabitants of the ■orth-wesi coast of Scotioad ona the itles. it deceives time, and •upiiiu the rowea.

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This poem is valuable on account of the light it throws on the antiquity of Ossian's compositions. The Caracul mentioned here, is the same with Caraealla, the son of Severus, who in the year 211 commanded an expedition against the Caledonians. The variety of the measure shows that the poem was originally set to music, and perhaps was presented beforethe chiefs upon solemn occasions. Tradition has handed dbwfi the story more complete than it is in the poem. "Cnmala, the daughter ofstarno, king of lnistore or Orkney ishnds, fell in love with Fingal the son of Comlial at a feast, to which her father had invited him, (Fingal, B. III.) upon bis return from Lochlin, after the death of Agandecca. Her passion was so violent, thatsh? followed him, disguised tlike a youth, who wanted to be employed in his wars. She was soon discovered by Uidallan the son of Lamor, one of Fin gal's heroesi whose love she had slighted some time before. Her romantic passion and beauty recommended hs-r so much to the king, that he was resolved to make her his wife l when news was brought him of Caraculss expedition. He marched to stop the progress of the enemy, and Comala attended him. He left her on a hill, within siSht of Caracul's army, when he himself went to the battle, having previously promised, if he survived,, to return that night." The sequxl of toe story may be fathered from the poem itself.

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The chase is over. No noise on Ardven but the torrent's roar! Daughter of Morni,s come from Crona's banks. .Lay down the bow and take the harp. Let the night come on with songs, and our joy be great on Ardven.

Melil. And night comes on, thou blue-eyed maid. Grey night grows dim along the plain. I saw a deer at Crona's stream; a mossy bank he seemed through the

« {.leukoma, • (oft.tvllins ty»-i

gloom, but soon he bounded away. A meteor played round his branchy horns; and the awful faces of other times looked from the clouds of Crona.

j Dersa. These are the signs of Fingal's death. The king of shields is fallen! and Caiacul prevails. Rise, Comala', from thy rocks; daughter of Sarno, rise in tears. The youth of thy love is low, and his ghost is already on our hills.

Milil. There Comala sits forlorn! two grey dogs near shake their rough ears, and catch the flying breeze. Her red cheek rests on her arm, and the mountain wind is in her hair. She turns her blue-rolling eyes towards the field of his promise. Where art thou, 0 Fingal, for the night is gathering around?

Comala. O Carun «< of the streams! why do I behold thy waters rolling in blood? Has the noise of the battle been heard on thy banks; and sleeps the king of Morven? Rise, moon, thou daughter of the sky'. look from between thy clouds, that 1 may behold the light of his steel, on the field of his promise. Or rather let the meteor, that lights our departed fathers through the night, come with its red light, to show me the way to my fallen hero. Who will defend me from sorrow? Who from the love of Hidallan? Long shall Comala look before she can behold Fingal in the midst of his host; bright as the beam of the morning in the cloud of an early shower.

'tliDAL. Roll thou mist of gloomy Crona, roll on the path of the hunter. Hide his steps from mine eyes, and let me remember my friend no more. The bands of battle are scattered, and no crowding steps are round the noise of his steel. O Carun, roll thy streams of blood, for the chief of the people fell.

A Pcrsagrena, i the brightness of a sun-beam.»

c Comala, « the maid of the pleasant brow.1

e Caron, or Cra'on, s winding river.i This river retains stiU the name of Carios, and fui!f mtu the Forth some miles to the north of Falkirk.

t t.tilallan was sent by Pineal to givi nutice to Comala of his retorn; he, to revenge f m.elf on her for slighting Ms love some time before, told her that the king was killed in bauie. Jie even rieunded that he carried his body from the field to be buried ju her nresems : and this viitumstince makes it potable Uat the poem was presetted

Comala. Who fe!l on Carun's grassy banks, son of the cloudy night ? . Was he white as the snow of Ardven? Blooming as the bow of the shower? Was his hair like the mist of the hill, soft and curling in the day of the sun? Was he like the thunder of heaven in battle? Fleet as the roe of the desart?

Hidal. O that I might behold his love, fair-leaning from her rock! Her red eye dim in tears, and her blushing cheek half hid in her locks! Blow, thou gentle breeze, and lift the heavy locks of the maid, that I may behold her white arm, and lovely cheek of her sorrow ' .

Comala. And is the son of Comhai fallen, chief of. the mournful tale? The thunder rolls on the hill! The lightning flies on wings of fire! But they frighten not Comala; for her Fingal fell. Say, chief of the mournful tale, fell the breaker of the shields?

Hidal. The nations are scattered on their hills: for they shall hear the voice of the chief no more.

Comala. Confusion pursue thee over thy plains; and destruction overtake thee, thou king of the world. Few be thy steps to thy grave; and let one virgin mourn thee. Let her be, like Comala, tearful in the days of her youth. Why hast thou told me, Hidallan, that my hero fell? I might have hoped a little while his return, and have thought I saw him on the distant rock; a tree might have deceived me with his appearance; and the wind of the hill been the sound of his horn in mine ear. O that I were on the banks of Carun! that my tears might be warm on his cheek!

Hidal. He lies not on the banks of Carun : on Ardven heroes raise his tomb. Look on them, O moon, from thy clouds; be thy beam bright on his breast, that Comala may behold him in the light of his armour.

Comala. Stop, ye sons of the grave, till I behold my love. He left me at the chase alone. I knew not that he went to war. He said he would return with the night; and the king of Morven is not returned! Whv didst thou not tell me that he would fall. O trem

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