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Lo! the Moon appeareth.' The Flood is bright in the Vale. The Rocks are grey on the Face of the Hill. But I fee him not on the Brow; his Dogs before him tell not that he is coming. Here I must sit alone,

But who are these that lie beyond me on the Heath? Are they my Love and my Brother ?—Speak tome,0 my Friends ! they answer not. My Soul is tormented

with Fears. Ah! they are dead. Their Swords

are red from the Fight. O my Brother! my Brother! Why hast thou flain my Shalgar? Why, O Shalgar! hast thou slain my Brother? Dear were ve both to me! what shall I fay in your Praise I Thou wert fair on the Hill among Thoufands; he was terrible in Fight. Speak to me; hear my Voice, Sons of my L°ve ! But alas! They are silent, silent for ever! Cold are their Breasts of Clay!

Oh! from the Rock of tlje Hill! from the Top of the Mountain of Winds, speak, ye Ghosts of the

Dead! speak, and I will not be afraid. Whither

are ye gone to rest? In what Cave of the Hill shall I find you? No feeble Voice is on the Wind: No' Answer half-drowned in the Storms of the Hill.

I sit in my Grief. I wait for Morning in my Tears. Rear the Tomb, ye Friends of the Dead; but close it not till I come. My Life flyeth away like a Dream: Why should I stay behind? Here (ball I rest with my Friends by the Stream of the

Vol. II, L found

sounding Reck. When Night comes on the Hill; when the Wind is upon the Heath ; my Ghost shall stand in the Wind, and mourn the Death of my Friends, The Hunter shall hear from his Booth. He shall fear, but love my Voice. For sweet shall my Voice be for my Friends; for pleafant were they both to me.


SAD! I am fad indeed: Nor small my Cause of Woe!—Kirntor, thou hast lost no Son; thou hast lost no Daughter of Beauty. Conner the valiant 'lives ; and Annir the fairest of Maids. The Boughs of thy Family flourish, O Kirmor! But Armyn is the last of his Race. Dark is thy Bed, O Daura f and deep thy Sleep in the Tomb.—When shalt thou awake with thy Songs ? With all thy Voice of Music? .

Rife, Winds of Autumn, rife; blow upon the dark Heath! Streams of the Mountains, roar! howl, ye Tempests, in the Top of the Oak! wallc through broken Clouds, O Moon! show by Intervals thy pale Face! bring to my Mind that fad Night, when all my Children fellj when Arlndel the mighty fell; when Daura the lovely failed; when all my Children died.

Daura, my Daughter! thou wert fair; fair as the Moon on the Hills of Jura; white as the driven

Snow j

Snow; sweet as the breathing Gale. Arindel, thy Bow was strong, thy Spear was swift in the Field; Thy Look was like Mist on the Wave, thy Shield, a red Cloud in a Storm. Armor renowned in War came, and sought Daura's Love ; he was not long denied: Fair was the Hope of their Friends.

Earch, Son of Odgal, repined; for his Brother was flain by Armor. He came disguised like a Son of the Sea: Fair was his Skiff on the Wave; white his Locks of Age; calm his serious Brow. Fairest of Women, he faid, lovely Daughter of Armyn I a Rock not distant in the Sea, bears a Tree on its Side; red shines the Fruit afar. There Armor waiteth for Daura. I came to fetch his Love Come, fair Daughter of Armyn!

She went; and she called on Armor. Nought answered, but the Son of the Rock. Armor, my Love! my Love! why tormentest thou me with. Fear? Hear, Son of Ardnart, hear : It is Daura who calleth thee !—Earch the Traitor fled laughing tq the Land. She lifted up her Voice, and cried for her Brother and her Father. Arindcl! Armyn! none to relieve your Daura!

Her voice came over the Sea. Arindel my Son descended from the Hill; rough in the Spoils of the ChacC. His Arrows rattled by his Side; his Bow was in his Hand; five dark grey Dogs attended his Steps. He faw fierce Earch on the Shore; ha seized and bound him to an Oak., Thick fly the L 2 Thongs Thongs of the Hide around his Limbs; he loads

the Wind with his Groans.

Arindel ascends the surgy Deep in his Boat, to bring Daura to the Land. Armor came in his Wrath, and let fly the grey-feathered Shaft. It funk; it funk in thy Heart, O Arindtl my Son! for Earch the Traitor thou diedst. TheOar is stopped at once; he panted on thetRock and expired. What is thy Grief, O Daura, when round thy Feet is poured thy Brother's Blood!

The Boat is broken in twain by the Waves Armor plunges into the Sea to rescue hie Daura or die. Sudden a Blast from the Hill comes over the Waves. He funk, and he rose no more.

Alone, on the sea-beat Rock, my Daughter was heard to complain. Frequent and loud were her Cries ; nor could her Father relieve her. All Night I stood on the Shore. I faw her by the faint Beam of the Moon. All Night I heard her Cries. Loud was the Wind ; and the Rain beat hard on the Side of the Mountain. Before Morning appeared, her Voice was weak. It died away, like the EveningBreeze among the Grass of the Rocks. Spent with Grief she expired. And left thee, Armyn, alone; Gone is my Strength in the War, and fallen my Pride among Women. .

When the Storms of the Mountain come; when the North lifts the Waves on high ; I sit by the found

ing Shore, and look on the fatal Rock. Often by the setting Moon I see the Ghosts of my Children, Half.viewless, they walk in mournful Conference together. Will none of you speak in Pity; They do not regard their Father.

Ryn6, A L P I N.

R Y N O.

TH E Wind and the Rain are over: Calm is the Noon of Day. The Clouds are divided in Heaven. Over the green Hills flies the inconstant Sun. Red through the stony Vale comes down the Stream; but more sweet is the Voice I hear. It is the Voice of Alpin the Son of the Song, mourning for the Dead. Bent is his Head of Age, and red his tearful Eye, Alpin, thou Son of the Song, why alone on the silent Hill? Why complainestthou, asa Blast in the Wood; as a Wave on the lonely Shore?


My Tears, O Rynof are for the Dead; my Voice for the Inhabitants of the Grave. Tall thou art on the Hill; fair among the Sons of the Plain. But thou shalt fall like Morar; and the Mourner shall sit on thy Tomb. The Hills shall know thee no more 3 thy Bow fliall lie in the Hall unstrung.

L 3 Tho*

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