ARGUMENT.-MALVINA the daughter of Toscar is overheard by Ossian lamenting the death of Oscar her lover. Ossian, to divert her grief, relates his own actions in an expedition which he undertook, at Fingal's command, to aid Crothar the petty king of Cromar, a country in Ireland, against Rothmar who invaded his dominions. The story is delivered down thus in tradition. Crothar, king of Croma, being blind with age, and his son too young for the field, Rothmar, the chief of Tromlo, resolved to avail himself of the opportunity offered of annexing the dominions of Crothar to his own. He accordingly marched into the country subject to Crothar, but which he held of Arth or Artho, who was, at the time, supreme king of Ireland.

Crothar being, on account of his age and blindness, unfit for action, sent for aid to Fingal, king of Scotland; who ordered his son Ossian to the relief of Crothar. But before his arrival Fovargormo, the son of Crothar attacking Rothmar, was slain himself, and his forces totally defeated. Ossian renewed the war; came to battle, killed Rothmar, and routed his army. Croma being thus delivered of its enemies, Ossian returned to Scotland.

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CROMA.

IT was the voice of my love! seldom art thou "in the dreams of Malvina! Open your airy "halls, O fathers of Toscar of shields! Unfold "the gates of your clouds: the steps of Malvina " are near. I have heard a voice in my dream. "I feel the fluttering of my soul. Why didst "thou come, O blast! from the dark-rolling face " of the lake? Thy rustling wing was in the tree; "the dream of Malvina fled. But she beheld "her love, when his robe of mist flew on the "wind. A sun-beam was on his skirts, they glit"tered like the gold of the stranger. It was the "voice of my love! seldom comes he to my "dreams!"

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"But thou dwellest in the soul of Malvina, "son of mighty Ossian! My sighs arise with the "beam of the east; my tears descend with the drops of night. I was a lovely tree, in thy presence, Oscar, with all my branches round me; but thy death came like a blast from the "desert, and laid my green head low. The

spring returned with its showers; no leaf of "mine arose! The virgins saw me silent in the "hall; they touched the harp of joy. The tear

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was on the cheek of Malvina: the virgins be"held me in my grief. Why art thou sad? they

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"said; thou first of the maids of Lutha! Was "he lovely as the beam of the morning, and "stately in thy sight?"

Pleasant is thy song in Ossian's ear, daughter of streamy Lutha! Thou hast heard the music of departed bards in the dream of thy rest, when sleep fell on thine eyes, at the murmur of Moruth.* When thou didst return from the chase, in the day of the sun, thou hast heard the music of bards, and thy song is lovely! it is lovely, O Malvina! but it melts the soul. There is a joy in grief when peace dwells in the breast of the sad. sorrow wastes the mournful, O daughter of Toscar! and their days are few! they fall away, like the flower on which the sun hath looked in his strength after the mildew has passed over it, when its head is heavy with the drops of night. Attend to the tale of Ossian, O maid! He remembers the days of his youth!

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The king commanded; I raised my sails, and rushed into the bay of Croma; into Croma's sounding bay in lovely Inisfail.† High on the coast arose the towers of Crothar king of spears: Crothar renowned in the battles of his youth; but age dwelt then around the chief. Rothmar had raised the sword against the hero; and the wrath of Fingal burned. He sent Ossian to meet Rothmar in war, for the chief of Croma was the friend of his youth.

* Mor'-ruth, great stream.

+ Inisfail, one of the ancient names of Ireland.

I sent the bard before me with songs. I came into the hall of Crothar. There sat the chief amidst the arms of his fathers, but his eyes had failed. His grey locks waved around a staff, on which the warrior leaned. He hummed the song of other times, when the sound of our arms reached his ears. Crothar rose, stretched his aged hand, and blessed the son of Fingal.

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"Ossian!" said the hero," the strength of Cro"thar's arm has failed. O could I lift the sword, "as on the day that Fingal fought at Strutha! He was the first of men; but Crothar had also his "fame. The king of Morven praised me; he pla"ced on my arm the bossy shield of Calthar, "whom the king had slain in his wars. "thou not behold it on the wall? for Crothar's

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eyes have failed. Is thy strength like thy

father's, Ossian? let the aged feel thine arm!" I gave my arm to the king; he felt it with his aged hands. The sigh rose in his breast, and his tears came down. "Thou art strong, my son," he said, “but not like the king of Morven! But who "is like the hero among the mighty in war? Let "the feast of my hall be spread; and let my bards "exalt the song. Great is he that is within my "walls, ye sons of echoing Croma!" The feast is spread. The harp is heard; and joy is in the hall. But it was joy covering a sigh, that darkly dwelt in every breast. It was like the faint beam of the moon spread on a cloud in heaven. At

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length the music ceased, and the aged king of Croma spoke; he spoke without a tear, but sorrow swelled in the midst of his voice.

“Son of Fingal! behold'st thou not the dark"ness of Crothar's joy? My soul was not sad at "the feast, when my people lived before me. I "rejoiced in the presence of strangers, when my. "son shone in the hall. But Ossian, he is a beam "that is departed. He left no streak of light be"hind. He is fallen, son of Fingal; in the wars "of his father. Rothmar the chief of grassy "Tromlo heard that these eyes had failed; he "heard that my arms were fixed in the hall, and "the pride of his soul arose! He came towards "Croma; my people fell before him. I took my

arms in my wrath, but what could sightless Cro"thar do? My steps were unequal; my grief was

great. I wished for the days that were past. "Days! wherein I fought; and won in the field of "blood. My son returned from the chase; the “fair-baired Fovar-gormo.* * He had not lifted "his sword in battle, for his arm was young. "But the soul of the youth was great; the fire of " valour burnt in his eyes. He saw the disordered

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steps of his father, and his sigh arose.- King "of Croma,' he said, is it because thou hast no "son; is it for the weakness of Fovar-gormo's arm "that thy sighs arise? I begin, my father, to feel "my strength; I have drawn the sword of my.

* Faobhar-gorm, the blue point of steel.