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Rage. Fillan the Great was there. Thou, Ofcur, wert there, my Son! Fingal himself was there, ftrong in the grey Locks of Years. Full rofe his finewy Limbs; and wide his Shoulders fpread. The unhappy met with his Arm, when the Pride of his Wrath arofe.

The Son of Morny came; Gaul, the talleft of Men. He stood on the Hill like an Oak; his Voice was like the Streams of the Hill. Why reigneth alone, he cries, the Son of the mighty Corval? Fingal is not ftrong to fave: He is no Support for the People. I am strong as a Storm in the Ocean; as a Whirlwind on the Hill. Yield, Son of Corval; Fingal, yield to me. He came like a Rock from the Hill, refounding in his Arms.

Ofcur ftood forth to meet him; my Son would meet the Foe. But Fingal came in his Strength,. and fmiled at the Vaunter's Boaft. They threw their Arms round each other; they struggled on the Plain. The Earth is ploughed with their Heels. Their Lones crack as the Boat on the Ocean, when it leaps from Wave to Wave. Long did they toil; with Night, they fell on the founding Plain; as two Oaks, with they Branches mingled, fall crashing from the Hill. The tall Son of Morny is. bound; the aged overcame,

Fair with her Locks of Gold, her fmooth Neck, and her Breafts of Snow; fair as the Spirits of the Hill when at filent Noon they glide along the Heath; fair as the Rain-bow of Heaven; came Minvane the

Maid. Fingal! fhe foftly faith, loose me my Brother Gaul. Loofe me the Hope of my Race, the Terror of all but Fingal. Can I, replies the King, can I deny the lovely Daughter of the Hill? Take thy Brother, O Minvane, thou fairer than the Snow of the North.

Such Fingal! were thy Words; but thy Words I hear no more. Sightless I fit by thy Tomb. I hear the Wind in the Wood; but no more I hear my Friends. The Cry of the Hunter is over. The Voice of War is ceased.

FRAGMENT IX.

HOU afkeft, fair Daughter of the Ifles! whose Memory is preserved in thefe Tombs? The Memory of Ronnan the bold, and Connan the Chief of Men; and of her, the fairest of Maids, Rivine the lovely and the good. The Wing of Time is laden with Care. Every Moment hath Woes of its own. Why feek we our Grief from afar? Or give our Tears to thofe of other Times? But thou commandeft, and I obey, O fair Daughter of the Isles !

Conar was mighty in War. Caul was the Friend of Strangers. His Gates were open to all; Midnight darkened not on his barred Door. Both lived upon the Sons of the Mountains. Their Bow was the Support of the Poor..

Connan

Connan was the Image of Conar's Soul. Caul was renewed in Ronnan his Son. Rivine the Daughter of Conar was the Love of Ronnan; her Brother Connan was his Friend. She was fair as the Harvest Moon fetting in the Seas of Molochasquir. Her Soul was fettled on Ronnan; the Youth was the Dream of her Nights.

Rivine, my Love! fays Ronnan, I go to my King in Norway [9]. A Year and a Day fhall bring me back. Wilt thou be true to Ronnan?

Ronnan! a Year and a Day I will spend in Sorrow. Ronnan, behave like a Man, and my Soul fhall exult in thy Valour. Connan, my Friend, fays Ronnan, wilt thou preferve Rivine thy Sifter? Durftan is in Love with the Maid; and foon fhall the Sea bring the Stranger to our Coast.

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Ronnan, I will defend: Do thou fecurely go.He went. He returned on his Day. But Durstan returned before him.

Give me thy Daughter, Conar, says Durstan; or fear and feel my Power.

He who dares attempt my Sifter, says Connan, must meet the Edge of Steel. Unerring in Battle is my Arm: My Sword, as the Lightning of Heaven,

[9] Supposed to be Fergus II. This Fragment is reckoned not altogether so ancient as moft of the rest.

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Ronnan the Warrior came; and much he threatened Durftan.

But, faith Uran the Servant of Gold, Ronnan! by the Gate of the North fhall Durftan this Night carry thy Fair-one away. Accurfed, anfwers Ronnan, be this Arm, if Death meet him not there.

Connan! faith Euran, this Night shall the Stranger carry thy Sifter away. My Sword fhall meet him, replies Connan, and he fhall lie low on Earth.

The Friends met by Night, and they fought. Blood and Sweat ran down their Limbs as Water on the moffy Rock. Connan falls; and cries, O Durfan, be favourable to Rivine !—And is it my Friend, cries Ronnan, I have flain! O Connan! I knew thee not,

He went, and he fought with Durftan. Day began to rife on the Combat, when fainting they fell, and expired. Rivine came out with the Morn; and-O what detains my Ronnan !-She faw him lying pale in his Blood; and her Brother lying pale by his Side. What could fhe say? What could fhe do? Her Complaints were many and vain. She opened this Grave for the Warriors; and fell into it herfelf, before it was clofed; like the Sun fnatched away in Storm.

Thou haft heard this Tale of Grief, O fair Daughter of the Ifles! Rivine was fair as thyfelf: fhed on her Grave a Tear.

FRAG

FRAGMENT

X.

IT is Night; and I am alone, forlorn on the Hill of Storms. The Wind is heard in the Mountain. The Torrent fhrieks down the Rock. No Hut receives me from the Rain; forlorn on the Hill of Winds.

Rife, Moon! from behind thy Clouds; Stars of the Night, appear! Lead me, fome Light, to the Place where my Love refts from the Toil of the Chace! his Bow near him, unftrung; his Dog's panting around him. But here I muft fit alone, by the Rock of the moffy Stream. The Stream and the Wind roar; nor can I hear the Voice of my · Love.

Why delayeth my Shalgar; why the Son of the Hill, his Promife? Here is the Rock, and the Tree; and here the roaring Stream. Thou promifedft with Night to be here. Ah! whither is my Shalgar gone! With thee I would fly my Father; with thee, my Brother of Pride. Our Race have long been Foes; but we are not Foes, O Shalgar!

Ceafe a little while, O Wind! Stream, be thou filent a while! let my Voice be heard over the Heath; let my Wanderer hear me. Shalgar! It is I who call. Here is the Tree, and the Rock. Shalgar, my Love! I am here. Why delayeft thou thy coming? Alas! no Answer.

Lo!

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