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Lubar is bright before me in the windings of its vale. On either side, on their hills, rise the tall forms of the kings. Their people are poured around them, bending forward to their words: as if their fathers spoke, descending from the winds. But they themselves are like two rocks in the midst; each with its dark head of pines, when they are seen in the desert, above lowsailing mist. High on their face are streams, which spread their foam on blasts of wind!

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Beneath the voice of Cathmor pours Erin, like

Like eastern kings a lazy state they keep,

And close confined to their own palace, sleep.

My soul returns to the vale where dwelt the lazy mist.” 2 As if their fathers spoke, descending from the winds.] Supra, ii. 14. from HOME's Douglas.

If ancestry can be in aught believed,

Descending spirits have conversed with man.

5 On their hills rise the tall forms of the kings.---Like tw● rocks in the midst; each with its dark head of pines, when they are seen in the desert above low-sailing mist.] Supra, iii. 21, infra, vi. From the Lapithæ in POPE's Iliad, xvi. 145.

As two tall oaks, before the walls they rise,
Their roots in earth, their heads amidst the skies;
High on the hills appear their stately form,

And their deep roots for ever brave the storm.

High on their face are streams which spread their foam on blasts of wind." In Ossian's poetry, oaks and rocks, roes and rocks, are convertible terms.

the sound of flame. Wide they come down to Lubar. Before them is the stride of Foldath. But Cathmor retires to his hill, beneath his bending oak. The tumbling of a stream is near the king. He lifts at times his gleaming spear. It is a flame to his people, in the midst of war. Near him stands the daughter of Con-mor, leaning on a rock. She did not rejoice at the strife. Her soul delighted not in blood. A valley spreads green behind the hill, with its three blue streams. The sun is there in silence. dun mountain-roes come down. On these are turned the eyes of Sul-malla in her thoughtful mood.

The

Fingal beholds Cathmor, on high, the son of Borbar-duthul! he beholds the deep-rolling of Erin, on the darkened plain. He strikes that warning boss, which bids the people to obey; when he sends his chiefs before them to the field of renown. Wide rise their spears to the sun. Their echoing shields reply around. Fear, like

6 Like the sound of flame.] Iliad, xiv. 396.

Οὔτι ΠΥΡΟΣ τόσσος γε ποτὶ ΒΡΟΜΟΣ αιθομένοιο,

"Not so loud was the sound of flame." MACPHERSON's Hover, ii. 67.

a vapour, winds not among the host: for HE, THE KING, is near, the strength of streamy Selma. Gladness brightens the hero. We hear his words with joy.

"Like the coming forth of winds, is the sound of Selma's sons! They are mountain waters determined in their course. Hence is l'ingal renowned. Hence is his name in other lands. He was not a lonely beam in danger; for your steps were always near! But never was Fingal a dreadful form, in your presence, darkened into wrath. My voice was no thunder to your ears". Mine eyes sent forth no death. When the haughty appeared, I beheld them not.

They were forgot at my feasts. Like mist they melted away. A young beam is before you! Few are his paths to war! They are few, but he is valiant. fend my dark-haired son. Bring Fillan back with joy. Hereafter he may stand alone. His

De

7 Never was Fingal a dreadful form, in your presence.--- My voice was no thunder to your ears.] Par. Lost, x. 779. His dreadful voice no more

Would thunder in my ears.

"Mine eyes sent forth no death." Id. vi. 848.

Every eye

Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire.

form is like his fathers. His soul is a flame of their fire. Son of car-borne Morni, move behind the youth. Let thy voice reach his ear, from the skirts of war. Not unobserved rolls battle, before thee, breaker of the shields !"

The king strode, at once, away to Cormul's lofty rock. Intermitting, darts the light, from his shield, as slow the king of heroes moves. Sidelong rolls his eye o'er the heath, as forming advance the lines. Graceful, fly his half-grey locks, round his kingly features, now lightened with dreadful joy. Wholly mighty is the chief! Behind him dark and slow I moved. Straight came forward the strength of Gaul. His shield hung loose on its thong. He spoke, in haste, to Ossian. "Bind, son of Fingal, this shield! Bind it high to the side of Gaul. The foe may behold it, and think I lift the spear. If I should fall, let my tomb be hid in the field; for fall I must without fame. Mine arm cannot lift the steel. Let not Evir-choma hear it, to blush between her locks. Fillan, the mighty, behold us! Let us not forget the strife. Why should THEY come, from their hills, to aid our flying field?"

He strode onward, with the sound of his shield. My voice pursued him, as he went. "Can the son of Morni fall without his fame in Erin? But the deeds of the mighty are forgot by themselves. They rush careless over the fields of renown. Their words are never heard!" I rejoiced over the steps of the chief. I strode to the rock of the king, where he sat in his wandering locks, amid the mountain-wind!

In two dark ridges bend the hosts, toward each other, at Lubar. Here Foldath rises a pillar of darkness: there brightens the youth of Fillan. Each with his spear in the stream, sent forth the voice of war. Gaul struck the shield of Selma. At once they plunge in battle! Steel pours its gleam on steel: like the fall of streams shone the field, when they mix their foam together, from two dark-browed rocks! Behold he

8 In two dark ridges bend the hosts towards each other.] Highlander, ii. 83.

In two black lines the equal waters crowd,

On either side the white topp'd ridges nod.

9 Like the fall of streams---when they mix their foam together from two dark-browed rocks.] POPE's Iliad, ix. 19. Infra, 23.

So silent fountains from a rock's tall head,
In sable streams soft-trickling waters shed.

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