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A thousand rocksreplied to the voice of his dogs. His face was the mildness of youth; his hand the death of heroes. One was his love, and fair was she, the daughter of miglity Conloch. She appeared like a sun-beam
among women. Her hair was the wing of the raven. Her dogs were taught to the chase. Her bow-string sounded on the winds. Her soul was fixed on Comal. Often met their
of love. Their course in the chase was one. Happy were their words in secret. But Grumal loved the maid, the dark chief of the gloomy Ardven. He watched her lone steps in the lieath, the foe of unhappy Comal!
One day tired of the chase, when the mist had concealed their friends, Comal and the daughter of Conloch met in the cave of Ronan. It was the wonted haunt of Comal. Its sides were hung with his arms. A hundred shields of thongs were there; a hundred belms of sounding steel. “ here,” he said, “my love, Galbina : thou light “ of the cave of Ronau! A deer appears on Mo“ ra's brow. I go; but I will soon return." “ I fear," she said, “ dark Grumal my foe: he “ haunts the cave of Ronan! I will rest among “ the arıns; but soon return, my love."
He went to the deer of Mora. The daughter of Conloch would try his love. She clothed her fait sides with his armour; she strode from the cave of Ronan! He thought it was his foe. His heart beat high. His colour changed, and darkness
dimmed his eyes. He drew the bow. The arrow flew. Galbina fell in blood! He run with wildness in his steps: he called the daughter of Conloch. No answer in the lonely rock. Where art thou, O my love? He saw at length her heaving heart, beating around the arrow he threw. “O “ Conloch's daughter, is it thou?" He sunk upon her breast! The hunters found the hapless pair; he afterwards walked the hill. But many and silent were his steps round the dark dwelling of his love. The fleet of the ocean came.
He fought; the strangers fled. He searched for death along the field. But who could slay the mighty Comal! He threw away his dark-brown shield. An arrow found his manly breast. He sleeps with his loved Galbina at the noise of the sounding surge! Their green tumbs are seen by the inariner, when he bounds on the waves of the north,
BOOK III.* *
ARGUMENT.-CUTHULLIN, pleased with the story of
Carril, insists with that bard for more of his songs. He relates the actions of Fingal in Lochlin, and death of Agandecca, the beautiful sister of Swaran. He had scarce finished, when Calmar the son of Matha, who had ad vised the first battle, came wounded from the field, and told them of Swaran's design to surprise the remains of the Irish army. He himself proposes to withstand singly the whole force of the enemy, in a narrow pass till the Irish should make good their retreat. Cuthullin, touched with the gallant proposal of Calmar, resolves to accompany him, and orders Carril to carry off the few that remained of the Irish. Morning comes, Calmar dies of his wounds; and the ships of the Caledonians appearing, Swaran gives over the pursuit of the Irish, and returns to oppose Fingal's landing. Cuthullin, ashamed after his defeat, to appear before Fingal, retires to the cave of Tura. Fingal engages the enemy, puts them to flight; but the coming on of night makes the victory not decisive. The king, who had observed the gallant behaviour of his grandson Oscar, gives him advices concerning his conduct in peace and war He recommends to him
to place the example of his fathers before his eyes, as the best model for his conduct; which introduces the episode concerning Fainasollis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken under his protection in his youth. Fillan and Oscar are dispatched to observe the motions of the enemy by night; Gaul, the son of Morni, desires the command of the army in the next battle, which Fingal promises to give him. Some general reflections of the poet
close the third day. "PLEASANT are the words of the song,” said Cuthullin ! “ lovely the tales of other times !
they are like the calm dew of the morning on • The second night, since the opening of the poem, continues; and Cuthullin, Connal, and Carril still sit in the place described in the preceding book. The story of Agandecca is introduced here with propriety. as great use is made of it in the course of the poem, and as it, in some measure, brings about the catastrophe.
" the hill of roes; when the sun is faint on its
side, and the lake is settled and blue in the « vale. O Carril, raise again thy voice ! let me 66 hear the
of Selma : which was sung “halls of joy, when Fingal king of shields was “ there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers."
Fingal ! thou dweller of battle,” said Carril, early were thy deeds in arms. Lochlin was " consumed in thy wrath, when thy youth strove “ with the beauty of maids. They smiled at the
fair-blooming face of the hero ; but death was “ in his hands. He was strong as the waters of
Lora. His followers were the roar of a thou* sand streams. They took the king of Lochlin “ in war ; they restored him to his ships. His
big heart swelled with pride ; the death of the " youth was dark in his soul.
For none ever, "but Fingal, had overcome the strength of the
mighty Starno.* He sat in the hall of his shells “ in Lochlin's woody land.
He called the grey“ haired Snivan, that often sung round the circlet “ of Loda; when the stone of power heard his “ voice, and battle turned in the field of the “ valiant !"
“Go; grey-haired Snivan,” Starno said, “ go " to Ardven's sea-surrounded rocks. Tell to the
* Starno was the father of Swaran as well as Agandecca. Mis fierce and cruel character is well marked in other poems concerning the times.
+ This passage most certainly alludes to the religion of Lochlin, and the me of power bere mentioned is the image of one of the dei ties of Scandinavia.
“ king of Selma; he the fairest among his thou“sands, tell him I give him my daughter, the “ lovliest maid that ever heaved a breast of snow. “ Her arms are white as the foam of my waves. “ Her soul is generous and mild. Let him come " with his bravest heroes, to the daughter of the “ secret ball !” Snivan came to Selma's ball; fair-haired Fingal attended his steps. His kindled soul few to the maid, as he bounded on the waves of the north. “Welcome,” said the dark-brown Starno, “ welcome, king of rocky Morven : wel. “ come bis beroes of might, sons of the distant “ isle! Three days within my halls shall ye “ feast! three days pursue my boars; that your “ fame
may reach the maid who dwells in the sea “ cret hall."
Starno designed their death. He gave the feast of shells. Fingal, who doubted the foe, kept on his arms of steel. The sons of death were afraid ; they fled from the eyes of the king. The voice of sprightly mirth arose. The trembling harps of joy were strung. Bards sung the battle of heroes ; they sung the heaving breast of love. Ul. lin, Fingal's bard was there; the sweet voice of resounding Cona. He praised the daughter of Lochlin; and Morven's* high descended chief. The daughter of Lochlin overheard. She left the hall of her secret sigh! She came in all her beauty,
* All the north-west coast of Scotland probably went of old under the name of Morven, which signifies a ridge of very high lilk.