ened before us. "wind!" said the king of Morven. "Dost "thou rustle in the chambers of the south, pur"suest thou the shower in other lands? Why "dost thou not come to my sails? to the blue "face of my seas? The foe is in the land of "Morven, and the king is absent far. But let "each bind on his mail, and each assume his "shield. Stretch every spear over the wave; "let every sword be unsheathed. Lathmon* is "before us with his host: he that fledt from Fin"gal on the plains of Lona. But he returns, like a collected stream, and his roar is between our "hills."

"Whither hast thou fled, O

Such were the words of Fingal. We rushed into Carmona's bay. Ossian ascended the hill: he thrice struck his bossy shield. The rock of Morven replied; the bounding roes came forth. The foe was troubled in my presence: he collected his darkened host. I stood like a cloud on the hill, rejoicing in the arms of my youth.

Morni‡ sat beneath a tree, at the roaring waters of Strumon ;§ his locks of age are grey: he

It is said by tradition, that it was the intelligence of Lathmon's invasion, that occasioned Fingal's return from Ireland; though Ossian, more poetically, ascribes the cause of Fingal's knowledge to his dream.

† He alludes to a battle wherein Fingal had defeated Lathmon.

Morni was chief of a numerous tribe, in the days of Fingal, and his father Comhal. The last-mentioned hero was killed in battle against Morni's tribe; but the valour and conduct of Fingal reduced them, at last, to obedience. We find the two heroes perfectly recon ciled in this poem.

§ Stru'-moné, stream of the hill. Here the proper name of a ritu let in the neighbourhood of Selma.

leans forward on his staff; young Gaul is near the hero, hearing the battles of his father. Often did he rise, in the fire of his soul, at the mighty deeds of Morni. The aged heard the sound of Ossian's shield; he knew the sign of war. He started at once from his place. His grey hair parted on his back. He remembered the deeds of other years.

My son," he said to fair-haired Gaul, “I "hear the sound of war. The king of Morven "is returned, his signals are spread on the wind. "Go to the halls of Strumon; bring his arms to "Morni. Bring the shield of my father's latter 68 years, for my arm begins to fail. Take thou "thy armour, O Gaul! and rush to the first of

thy battles. Let thine arm reach to the renown "of thy fathers. Be thy course in the field like "the eagle's wing. Why shouldst thou fear "death, my son? the valiant fall with fame; "their shields turn the dark stream of danger

away; renown dwells on their aged hairs, Dost "thou not see, O Gaul! how the steps of my age "are honoured? Morni moves forth, and the

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young meet him with awe, and turn their eyes, "with silent joy, on his course. But I never fled from danger, my son! my sword lightened through the darkness of war. The stranger "melted before me; the mighty were blasted in my presence."

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Gaul brought the arms to Morni: the aged

warrior is covered with steel. He took the spear in his hand, which was stained with the blood of the valiant. He came towards Fingal, his son attended his steps. The son of Comhal arose before him with joy, when he came in his locks of age.

"Chief of roaring Strumon!" said the rising soul of Fingal; "do I behold thee in arms, after thy strength has failed? Often has Morni shone "in fight, like the beam of the ascending sun; "when he disperses the storms of the hill, and

brings peace to the glittering fields. But why "didst thou not rest in thine age? Thy renown is "in the song. The people behold thee, and "bless the departure of mighty Morni. Why "didst thou not rest in thine age? The foe will "vanish before Fingal!"

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"Son of Comhal," replied the chief, "the strength of Morni's arm has failed. I attempt "to draw the sword of my youth, but it remains "in its place. I throw the spear, but it falls "short of the mark. I feel the weight of my

"shield. We decay like the

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grass of the hill:

I have a son,

our strength returns no more. "Fingal! his soul has delighted in Morni's deeds; "but his sword has not been lifted against a foe, "neither has his fame begun. I come with him "to the war; to direct his arm in fight. His

renown will be a light 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, 'Behold the father of "Gaul!'"

"King of Strumon," Fingal replied, "Gaul "shall lift the sword in fight. But he shall lift "it before Fingal; my arm shall defend his youth. But rest thou in the halls of Selma, " and hear of our renown. Bid the harp to be "strung, and the voice of the bard to arise, that "those who fall may rejoice in their fame, and "the soul of Morni brighten with joy. Ossian! "thou hast fought in battles: the blood of stran"gers is on thy spear: thy course be with Gaul "in the strife; but depart not from the side of *Fingal, lest the foe should find you alone, and your fame fail in my presence."

"I saw* Gaul in his arms; my soul was mixed "with his. The fire of the battle was in his eyes! " he looked to the foe with joy. We spoke the "words of friendship in secret; the lightning of "our swords poured together; for we drew them "behind the wood, and tried the strength of our arms on the empty air."

Night came down on Morven. Fingal sat at the beam of the oak. Morni sat by his side with all his grey waving locks. Their words were of other times, of the mighty deeds of their fathers.

* Ossian speaks. The contrast between the old and young heroes is strongly marked. The circumstance of the latter's drawing their swords is well imagined, and agrees with the impatience of young soldiers just entered upon action.

Three bards, at times, touched the harp; Ullin was near with his song. He sung of the mighty Comhal; but darkness* gathered on Morni's brow. He rolled his red eye on Ullin: at once ceased the song of the bard. Fingal observed the aged hero, and he mildly spoke: "Chief of Stru"mon, why that darkness? Let the days of other years be forgot. Our fathers contended in war; but we meet together at the feast. Our "swords are turned on the foe "melts before us on the field.

"our fathers be forgot, hero of

of our land: he

Let the days of

mossy Strumon!"

"King of Morven," replied the chief, "I re"member thy father with joy. He was terrible " in battle; the rage of the chief was deadly. My

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eyes were full of tears when the king of heroes "fell. The valiant fall, O Fingal! the feeble re"main on the hills! How many heroes have દ passed away in the days of Morni! Yet I did "not shun the battle! neither did I fly from the "strife of the valiant. 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 host, "like thunder, moving on the hills. Ossian! and "fair-haired Gaul! ye are young and swift in

* Ullin had chosen ill the subject of his song. The darkness which gathered on Morni's brow did not proceed from any dislike he had to Comhal's name, though they were foes, but from his fear that the song would awaken Fingal to a remembrance of the feuds which had subsisted of old between the families. Fingal's speech on this occasion abounds with generosity and good sense.