TEM OR A: MOR

AN

EPIC POEM.

T

BOOK I.

HE blue waves of Erin roll in light. The mountains are covered with day. Trees fhake their dufky heads, in the breeze. Grey torrents pour their noify ftreams. Two green hills, with aged oaks, furround a narrow plain. The blue course of a stream is there. On its banks flood Cairbar* of Atha. His fpear fupports the king: the red eye of his fear is fad. Cormac rifes in his foul, with all his ghaftly wounds.

* Cairbar, the son of Borbar duthul, was defcended lineally from Lathon the chief of the Firbolg, the first colony who fettled in the fouth of Ireland. The Cael were in poffeffion of the northern coaft of that kingdom, and the first monarchs of Ireland were of their race. Hence arose those differences between the two nations, which terminated, at last, in the murder of Cormac, and the ufurpation of Cairbar, lord of Atha, who is mentioned in this place.

The grey form of the youth appears in darkness. Blood pours from his airy fide. Cairbar thrice

threw his fpear on earth. Thrice he ftroaked his beard. His fteps are fhort. He often ftops. He toffes his finewy arms. He is like a cloud in the defart, varying its form to every blaft. The valleys are fad around, and fear, by turns, the fhower! The king, at length, resumed his foul. He took his pointed fpear. He turned his eye to Moi-lena. The fcouts of blue ocean came. They came with fteps of fear, and often looked behind. Cairbar knew that the mighty were near! He called his gloomy chiefs.

THE founding fteps of his warriors came. They drew, at once, their fwords. There Morlath* ftood with darkened face. Hidalla's long hair fighs in wind. Red-haired Cormar bends on his fpear, and rolls his fide-long-looking eyes. Wild is the look of Malthos from beneath too

Mór-lath, great in the day of battle. Hidalla', mildly looking hero. Cor-mar, expert at fea, Malth-os, flow to speak. Foldath, generous.

Foldath, who is here ftrongly marked, makes a great figure in the fequel of the poem. His fierce, uncomplying character is fuftained throughout. He feems, from a paffage in the fecond book, to have been Cairbar's greateft confident, and to have had a principal hand in the confpiracy against Cormae king of Ireland. His tribe was one of the most confiderable of the race of the Fir-bolg.

fhaggy

fhaggy brows. Foldath ftands, like an oozy rock, that covers its dark fides with foam. His fpear is like Slimora's fir, that meets the wind of heaven. His fhield is marked with the strokes of battle. His red eye defpifes danger. Thefe and a thousand other chiefs furrounded the king of Erin, when the scout of ocean came, Morannal *, from streamy Moi-lena. His eyes hang forward from his face. His lips are trembling, pale!

"Do the chiefs of Erin ftand," he faid, "filent as the grove of evening? Stand they, like a filent wood, and Fingal on the coaft? Fingal, who is terrible in battle, the king of ftreamy Morven ! "Haft thou feen the warrior?" faid

Cairbar with a figh. "Are his heroes many on the coaft? Lifts he the fpear of battle? Or comes the king in peace?" In peace he comes not, king of Erin. I have seen his forward spear†. It is a meteor of death. The blood of thousands

• Mór-annal, strong breath; a very proper name for a scout. + Mor-annal here alludes to the particular appearance of Fingal's fpear. If a man, upon his first landing in a strange country, kept the point of his fpear forward, it denoted in thofe days that he came in a hostile manner, and accordingly he was treated as an enemy; if he kept the point behind him, it was a token of friendship, and he was immediately invited to the feaft, according to the hofpitality of the times.

is on its fteel. He came first to the fhore, ftrong

men.

in the grey hair of age. Full rofe his finewy limbs, as he strode in his might. That fword is by his fide, which gives no fecond wound. His thield is terrible, like the bloody moon, afcending through a ftorm. Then came Offian king of fongs. Then Morni's fon, the first of Connal leaps forward on his fpear. Dermid fpreads his dark-brown locks. Fillan bends his bow, the young hunter of ftreamy Moruth. But who is that before them, like the terrible course of a ftream! It is the fon of Offian, bright between his locks! His long hair falls on his back. His dark brows are half-inclosed in steel. His fword hangs loofe on his fide. His fpear glitters as he moves. I fled from his terrible eyes, king of high Temora !"

"THEN fly, thou feeble man," said Foldath's gloomy wrath. Fly to the grey ftreams of thy land, fon of the little foul! Have not I feen that Ofcar? I beheld the chief in war. He is of the mighty in danger: but there are others who lift the fpear. Erin has many fons as brave, king

*This was the famous fword of Fingal, made by Luno, a fmith of Lochlin, and after him poetically called the Son of Luno: it is faid of this fword, that it killed a man at every ftroke; and that Fingal never used it but in times of the greatest danger.

of

of Temora of Groves! Let Foldath meet him in his ftrength. Let me ftop this mighty ftream. My fpear is covered with blood. My shield is like the wall of Tura!"

"SHALL Foldath alone meet the foe?" re

plied the dark-browed Malthos. "Are they not on our coaft, like the waters of many ftreams? Are not these the chiefs, who vanquifhed Swaran, when the fons of green Erin fled? Shall Foldath meet their braveft hero? Foldath of the heart of pride! take the ftrength of the people! and let Malthos come. My fword is red with flaughter, but who has heard my words?"

"SONS of green Erin," faid Hidalla ‡, "let not Fingal hear your words. The foe might rejoice, and his arm be ftrong in the land. Ye are brave, O warriors! Ye are tempefts in war. Ye are, like ftorms, which meet the rocks without fear, and overturn the woods. But let us move

* The oppofite characters of Foldath and Malthos are strongly marked in subsequent parts of the poem. They appear always in oppofition. The feuds between their families, which were the fource of their hatred to one another, are mentioned in other poems.

That is, who has heard my vaunting? He intended the expreffion as a rebuke to the felf-praife of Foldath.

Hidalla was the chief of Clonra, a fmall diftrict on the banks of the lake of Lego. The beauty of his person, his eloquence and genius for poetry are afterwards mentioned.