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Rage. Fillan the Great was there. Thou, Ostur, wert there, my Son! Fingal himself was there, strong in the grey Locks of Years. Full rose his sinewyLimbs; and wide his Shoulders spread. The unhappy met with his Arm, when the Pride of his Wrath arose.

The Son of Morny came; Gaul, the tallest 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 strong to fave: He is no Support for the People. I am strong as a Storm iH the Ocean; as a Whirlwind on the Hill. Yield, Son of Corval; Fingal, yield to me. He came like a Rock from the Hill, resounding in his Arms.

Oscur stood forth to meet him; my Son would meet the Foe. But Fingal came in his Strength, and smiled at the Vaunter's Boast. They threw their Arms round each other; they struggled on the Plain. The Earth is ploughed with their Heels. Their tones crack as the Boat on the Ocean, when it leaps from Wave to Wave. Long did they toil; with Night,' they fell on the sounding 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 smooth Neck, and her Breasts of Snow; fair as the Spirits of the Hill when at silent Noon they glide along the Heath ;, fair as; the Rain-bow of Heaven ; came Minvane the

Maid. Fingall she softly faith, loose me my Brother Gaul. Loose me the Hope of my Race, the Terror of all but Fingat. Can I, replies the King, can I deny the lovely Daughter of the Hill? Take thy Brother, O Minvœne, thou fairer than the Snow of the North.

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


THOU afkest, fair Daughter of the Isles! whose Memory is preserved in these 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 isladen with Care. Every Moment hath Woes of its own. Why seek we our Grief from afar? Or give our Tears to those of other Times? But thou commandest, 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 livedupon the Sons of the Mountains. Their Bow was the Support of the Poor- .


Connan was the Image of Conor's Soul. Caut was renewed in Ronnan his Son. Rhine the Daughter of Conar was the Love of Ronnan; her Brother Connan was his Friend. She was fair as the Harvest Moon setting in the Seas of Molochasquir. Her Soul was settled on Ronnan; the Youth was the Dream of her Nights.

Rivine, my Love! fays Ronnan, I go to my King in Norway [q]. A Year and a Day shall 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 shall exult in thy Valour. Connan, my Friend, says Ronnan, wilt thou preserve Rivine thy Sister? Durjian is in Love with the Maid; and soon shall the Sea bring the Stranger to our Coast.

Ronnan, I will defend: Do thou securely go.— He went. He returned on his Day. But Durjian returned before him.

Give me thy Daughter, Conar, fays Durjian; or fear and feel my Power.

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

[q] Supposed to be Fergus II. This Fragment it reckoned not altogether so ancient as most of the rest.

Ronnan the Warrior came; and much he threatened Durjlan.

But, faith Uran the Servant of Gold, Ronnanby the Gate of the North shall Durjlan this Night carry thy Fair-one away. Accursed, answers Ronnan, be this Arm, if Death meet him not there.

Connan! faith Euran, thisNight shall theStranger carry thy Sister away. My Sword shall meet him, replies Connan, and he shall lie low on Earth.

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

He went, and he fought with Durflan. Day began to rise 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 htr Brother lying pale by his Side. What could she fay? What could she do? Her Complaints were many and vain. She opened this Grave for the Warriors; and fell into it herself, before it was closed; like the Sun snatched away in Storm.

Thou hast heard this Tale of Grief, O fair Daughter of the Isles! Rivine was fair as thyself: flied on her Grave a Tear.


TT is Night; and I am alone, forlorn on the Hill of Storms. The Wind is heard in the Mountain. The Torrent shrieks 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, some Light, to the Place where my Love rests from the Toil of the Chace! his Bow near him, unstrung; his Dogs panting around him. But here I must sit alone, by the Rock of the mossy 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 Promise? Here is the Rock, and the Tree; and here the roaring Stream. Thou promifedst 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 j but we are not Foes, O Shalgar!

Cease a little while, O Wind! Stream, be thou silent 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 delayest thou thy coming? Alas! no Answer.

a Lo!

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