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ven is returned, the sign of war is heard. Go to the halls of Strumon, and bring his arms to Morni. Bring the arins which my father wore in his age;


my arm begins to fail. Take thou thy armour, o Gaul; and rush to the first of tliy battles. Let thine armn reach to the renown of thy fathers. Be thy course in the field, like the eagle's wing. Why shouldst thou fear death, my fon! the valiant fall with fame; their shields turn the dark stream of danger away, and renown dwells

on their gray hairs. Dost thou not fee; o Gaul, how the steps of my age are honoured? Morni moves forth, and the young meet him, with reveren, ce, and turn their eyes, with filent joy, on his course. But I never fled from danger, my fon! iny sword lightened through the darkness of battle. The stranger melted before me; the mighty were blafted in my presence.

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Gaul brought the arms to Morni: the aged warrior covered hiinfelf with steel. He took the spear in his hand, which was often stained with the blood of the valiant. He wards Fingal, his son attended his steps. The fon of Comhal rejoiced over the warrior, when he caine, in the locks of his age.


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King of the roaring Strumon! faid the rif ing joy of Fingal; do I behold thee in arms, after thy strength has failed? Often has Morni fhone in battles, like the beam of the rising fun; when he disperfes the storms of the hill, and brings peace to the glittering fields. But why didit thou not rest in thine age? Thy renown is in the song. The people behold thee, and bless the departure of mighty Morni. Why didft thou not rest in thine age? For the foe will vanish before Fingal.

Son of Comhal, > replied the chief, the ftrength of Morni's arm has failed. I attempt to draw the sword of my youth, but it re. mains in its place. I throw the spear, but it falls short of the mark; and I feel the weight of my shield. We decay,' like the grass of the imountain, and our strength returns no more, I have a son, o Fingal, his foul has delighted in the actions of Morni's youth; but his sword has not been lifted against the foe, nei ther has his fame begun. I come with him to battle; to direct his arm. His renown will be a fun to my soul, in the dark hour of my departure. O that the name of Morni were forgot among the people that the heroes would only say, "Sehold the father of Gau!!??


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King of Strumon', Fingal replied, Gaul shall lift the sword in battle. But he shall lift it before Fingal; my arm fhall defend his youth. But rest thou in the halls of Selma, and hear of our renown. Bid the harp be strung; and the voice of the bard arise, that those who fall may rejoice in their famne; and the foul of Morni brighten with gladness. Ollian! thou hast fought in battles : the blood of stran. gers is on thy spear; let thy courfe be with Gaul in the strife: but depart not from the side of Fingal; left the foe find you alone; and your fame fail at once.

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I saw*) Gaul in his arms,


foul was mixed with his ; for the fire of the battle was in his eyes! he looked to the foe with joy. We spoke the words of friendfhip in secret: and the lightning of our swords poured toye. ther; for we drew them behind the wood, and tried the strength of our arins on the empty air.


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*) Offian speaks. The contrait between the old and

young herves is strongly marked. The circumftame of the latter's drawing their swords is well imagined, and agrees with the impatience of young foldiers, just entered upou action,

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Night came down on Morven. Fingal fat at the beam of the oak, Morni fat by his fide, with all his gray waving locks. Their discourse is of other times, and the actions of their fathers. Three bards, at times, touched the harp; and Ullin was near with his song. He fung of the mighty Comhal; but darkness gathered *) on Morni's brow, He rolled his red eye on Ullin; and the song of the bard ceased. Fingal observed the aged hero, and he mildly fpoke.

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Chief of Strumon; why that darkness? Let the days of other years be forgot. Our fathers contended in battle;. but we meet together, at the feast. Qur swords are turned on the foes, and they inelt before us on the field. Let the days of our fathers be forgot, king of mossy Strumon.



*) Ullin had chosen ill the subject of his song. The

darkness which gathered on Morni's brow, did 1100
proceed from any dislike he had to Comhal's
name, though they were foes; but from his fear,
that the foug would awaken Fingal to remem-
brance of the feuds, which had fubfifted of old
beiween the families. Fingal's speech on-this
occasion abounds with generosity and good lense.

King of Morven, replied the chief, I remember thy father with joy. He was terrible in battle; the rage *) of the chief was deadly. My eyes were full of tears, when the king of heroes fell. The valiant fall, o Fingal, and the feeble remain on the hills. How many heroes have passed away, in the days of Morni! And I did not Thun the battle; neither' did I fly from the strife of the valiant.

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Now let the friends of Fingal rest; for the night is around; that they may rise, with strength, to battle against car-borne Lathmon. I hear the sound of his hoft, like thunder heard on a distant heath.. Ossian! and fair-haired. Gaul! ye are swift in the race. Observe the foes of Fingal from that woody hill. But approach them not, your fathers are not near

Let not your fame fall at once. The valour of youth may fail.

to shield you.


*) This expression is ambiguous in the original. It

either fignifies that Comhal killed inany in battle, or that he was implacable in his resentment. The translator has endeavoured to preserve the same ambiguity in the version; as it was probably designed by the poet.

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