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are weak, and like the dreams of our rest, or the light-winged thought, that flies across the soul". Shall Cathmor soon be low? Darkly laid in his narrow house? Where no morning comes, with her half-opened eyes''? Away, thou shade! to fight is mine! All further thought away *°! I rush forth, on eagle's wings, to seize my beam of fame. In the lonely vale of streams, abides the narrow soul. Years roll
"Ω πόπου, ή ρά τις εστί και είν αίδαο δόμοισι
Ψυχή και είδωλον, ατάρ ΦΡΕΝΕΣ ΟΥΚ ΕΝΙ πάμπαν" " In the halls of relentless death, some spirit, some image remains, but all knowledge departs from the dead." MACPHERson's Homer, ii. 361.
1% Like the dreams of our rest, or the light-winged thought that fies across the soul.] Æn. vi. 702.
Par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima somno.
DRYDEN. 19 Where no morning comes with her half-opened eyes.] Supra, '. Neither let it see the eyelids of the morning. Job, iii. 9. His eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. Id. xli. 18.
Away, thou shade! to fight is mine! All farther thought away.] Mason's Elfrida ;
Away, ye goblins all,
Away, ye elves, away,
on, seasons return, but he is still unknown". In a blast comes cloudy death, and lays his grey head low. His ghost is folded in the vapour of the fenny field. Its course is never on hills, nor mossy
vales of wind. So shall not Cathmor depart. No boy in the field was he, who only marks the bed of roes *, upon the echoing hills. My issuing forth was with kings. My joy in dreadful plains : where broken hosts are rolled away, like seas before the wind.”
So spoke the king of Alnecma, brightening in his rising soul. Valour, like a pleasant flame, is gleaming within his breast *3. Stately is his
21 Years roll on, seasons return, but he is still unknown.] Par. Lost, iii. 40.
Then with the year
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn. 22 No boy in the field was he, who only marks the bed of roes.] Supra, ii. 16. From Thomson's Spring.
Not so the boy :
To catch the falling glory. The first imitation is often better disguised than the second, in which the peculiar phraseology betrays the original.
23 Valour, like a pleasant Name, is gleaming within his breast.] From two detached lines in DRYDEN'S Virgil, Æn. ii. 801.
stride on the heath! The beam of east is
poured around. He saw
He saw his grey host on the field, wide-spreading their ridges in light. He rejoiced, like a spirit of heaven, whose steps come forth on the seas, when he beholds them peaceful round, and all the winds are laid *4. But soon he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to some echoing shore.
On the rushy bank of a stream, slept the daughter of Inis-huna. The helmet had fallen
Thus while I rave, a gleam of pleasant light
Spread o'er the plain. Id. iv. 53.
And will you fight against a pleasant flame. Macpherson's versification in the Highlander was partly formed upon Dryden's translation of Virgil ; but how could the flame of valour glowing, or gleaming in the breast, have ever been mistaken for ancient poetry?
14 Like a spirit of heaven, whose steps come forth on the seas, when he beholds them peaceful round, and all the winds arc laid.) Pope's Iliad, xiv. 21.
As when old ocean's silent surface sleeps,
Jove sends one gust, and bids them roll away. “ But soon he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to some echoing shore." And in the preceding paragraph, “ Where broken hosts are rolled away, like seas before the wind.”
from her head. Her dreams were in the lands of her fathers. There morning is on the field. Grey streams leap down from the rocks. The breezes, in shadowy waves, fly over the rushy fields. There is the sound that prepares for the chące. THERE the moving of warriors from the hall. But tall above the rest is seen the hero of streamy Atha "5. He bends his eye of love on Sul-malla, from his stately steps. She turns, with pride, her face away, and careless bends the bow.
Such were the dreams of the maid, when Cathmor of Atha came. He saw her fair face before him, in the midst of her wandering locks.
25 There morning is on the field. There is the sound that prepares for the chace. There the moving of warriors from the hall. But tall above the rest is seen the hero of streamy Atha.] From the preparations of Dido and Æneas for the chace. DRYDen's Eneid, iv. 182.
The rosy morn was risen from the main,
The great Encas, when the troop he joins.
He knew the maid of Lumon. What should Cathmor do? His sighs arise. His tears come down. But straight he turns away. “This is no time, king of Atha, to awake thy secret soul. The battle is rolled before thee, like a troubled stream.”
He struck the warning boss 25, wherein dwelt the voice of war. Erin rose around him, like the sound of eagle-wings. Sul-malla started from sleep, in her disordered locks. She seized the helmet from earth. She trembled in her place. “Why should they know in Erin of the daughter of Inis-huna?” She remembered the race of kings. The pride of her soul arose ! Her steps are behind a rock, by the blue-winding stream of a vale : where dwelt the dark brown hind ere yet the war arose. Thither came the voice of Cathmor, at times, to Sul-malla's ear. Her soul is darkly sad. She pours her words on wind.
“ The dreams of Inis-huna departed. They
36 In order to understand this passage, it is necessary to look to the description of Cathmor's shield in the seventh book. This shield had seven principal bosses, the sound of each of which, when struck with a spear, conveyed a particular order from the king to his tribes. The sound of one of them, as here, was the signal for the army to assemble. MACPHERSON.