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“ looked from the bill of roes. Lumon of the " foamy streams, thou risest on Fonar's soul!"

Morning pours from the east. The misty heads of the mountains rise. Valleys show, on every side, the grey winding of the streams. His host heard the shield of Cathinor: at once they rose around; like a crowded sea, when first it feels the wings of the wind. The waves know not whither to roll; they lift their troubled heads.

Sad and slow retired Sul-malla to Lona of the streams. She went, and often turned; her blue eyes rolled in tears. But when she came to the rock, that darkly-covered Lona's vale, she looked from her bursting soul, on the king; and sunk, at once, behind.

Son of Alpin, strike the string. Is there aught of joy in the harp ? Pour it then on the soul of Ossian: it is folded in mist. I hear thee, O bard! in my night. But cease the lightly trembling sound. The joy of grief belongs to Ossian, amidst his dark-brown years.

Green thorn of the hill of ghosts, that shakest thy head to nightly winds! I hear no sound in thee; is there no spirit's windy skirt now rustling in thy leaves ? Often are the steps of the dead, in thy dark-eddying blasts; when the moon, a dun shield, from the east, is rolled along the sky.

“ Ullio, Carril, and Ryno, voices of the days s of old! Let me bear you, wbile yet it is dark, to

please and awake my soul. I hear you not, ye

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sons of song; in what hall of the clouds is your “ rest? Do you touch the shadowy harp, robed “ with morning mist, where the rustling sun comes " forth from his green-headed waves ?"

TEMORA.

BOOK VIII.

ARGUMENT.-The fourth morning, from the opening

of the poem, comes on. Fingal still continuing in the place, to which he had retired on the preceding night, is seen at intervals, through the mist, which covered the rock of Cormul. The descent of the king is described. He orders Gaul, Dermid, and Carril the bard, to go to the valley of Cluna, and conduct from thence to the Caledonian army, Ferad-artho, the son of Cairbre, the only person remaining of the family of Conar, the first king of Ireland. The king takes the command of the army, and prepares for battle. Marching towards the enemy, he comes to the cave of Lubar where the body of Fillan lay. Upon seeing his dog Bran, who lay at the entrance of the cave, his grief returns. Cathmor arranges the Irish army in order of battle. The appearance of that hero. The general conflict is described. The actions of Fingal and Cathmor. A storm. The total rout of the Fir-bolg. The two kings engage, in a column of mist, on the banks of Lubar. Their attitude and conference after the combat. The death of Cathmor. Fingal resigns the spear of Trenmor to Ossian. The ceremonies observed on that occasion. The spirit of Cathmor in the mean time appears to Sul-malla, in the valley of Lona. Her sorrow. Evening comes on. A feast is prepared. The coming of Ferad-artho is announced by the songs of an hundred bards. The poem closes with a speech of Fingal.

As when the wintry winds have seized the waves of the mountain lake, have seized them in stormy night, and clothed them over with ice; white, to the hunter's early eye, the billows still seem to roll. He turns his ear to the sound of each unequal ridge. But each is silent, gleaming, strewn with

boughs and tufts of grass, which shake and whistle to the wind, over their grey seats of frost. So silent shone to the morning the ridges of Morven's host, as each warrior looked up fronı his helmet towards the bill of the king; the cloud covered bill of Fingal, where he strode, in the folds of mist. At times is the hero seen, greatly dim in all his arms. From thought to thought rolled the war, along his mighty soul.

Now is the conring forth of the king. First appeared the sword of Luno; the spear half-issuing from a cloud, the shield still dim in mist. But when the stride of the king came abroad, with all his grey, dewy locks in the wind; then rose the shonts of his host over every moving tribe. They gathered gleaming round, with all their echoing shields. So rise the green seas round a spirit, that comes down from this squally wind. The traveller hears the sound afar, and lifts his head over the rock. He looks on the troubled bay, and thinks he dimly sees the form. The waves sport, unwieldy, round, with all their backs of foam.

Far distant stood the son of Morni, Duthno's race, and Cona's bard. We stood far distant; each beneath his tree. We shunned the

eyes of the king: we had not conquered in the field. A little stream rolled at my feet: I touched its light wave with my spear. I touched it with my spear; nor there was the soul of Ossian. It darkly

men.

rose from thought to thought, and sent abroad the sigh.

Son of Morni," said the king, “ Dermid, “ hunter of roes! why are ye dark, like two rocks, “ each with its trickling waters? No wrath “ gathers on Fingal's soul, against the chiefs of

Ye are my strength in battle; the kind“ ling of my joy in peace. My early voice has “ been a pleasant gale to your ears, when Fillan “prepared the bow. The son of Fingal is not

here, nor yet the chase of the bounding roes. “ But why should the breakers of shields stand, “ darkened, far away?"

Tall they strode towards the king; they saw him turned to Mora's wind. His tears came down for his blue-eyed son, who slept in the cave of streams. But he brightened before them, and spoke to the broad shielded kings.

“ Crommal, with woody rocks, and misty top, “ the field of winds, pour forth, to the sight, blue “ Lubar's streamy roar.

Bebind it rolls clearwinding Lavath, in the still vale of deer. A cave “ is dark in a rock; above it strong-winged eagles “ dwell; broad-headed oaks before it, sound in “ Cluna's wind. Within, in his locks of youth, is Ferad-artho,# blue-eyed king, the son of broad

* Ferad-artho was the son of Cairbar Mac.Cormac bing of Ireland. He was the only one remaining of the race of Conar, the son of Trenmor, the first Irish monarch, according to Ossian. In order to make this passage thoroughly understood, it may not be improper to recapaulate some part of what has been in preceding notes. Upon

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