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F I N G A L,
A N
ANCIENT EPIC POEM,
In SIX BOOKS:
Together with feveral other POEMS, compofed by
O S S I A N the Son of F I N G A L.
Tranflated from the Galic Language,
By JAMES MACPHERSON,
FortiafaSfapatrum. Virgil.
L O N D O N »
Printed for T. Becket and P. A. De Hondt, in the Strand.
M DCC LXII,
1 -i
\J oidJ.O f:'; ff!o-;i fv^Hr rT
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE tranflator thinks it neceflary to make the public acquainted
with the motives which induced him to depart from his pro-
pofals concerning the Originals. Some men of genius, whom he has
the honour to number among his friends, advifed him to publifli
propofals for printing by fubfcription the whole Originals, as a better
way of fatisfying the public concerning the authenticity of the
poems, than depofiting manufcript copies in any public library. This
he did; but no fubfcribers appearing, he takes it for the judgment
of the public that neither the one or the other is neceflary. How-
ever, there is a defign on foot to print the Originals, as foon as the
tranflator fhall have time to tranfcribe them for the prefs ; and if this
publication fhall not take place, copies will then be depofited in one
of the public libraries, to prevent fo ancient a monument of genius
from being loft.
The tranflator thanks the public for the more than ordinary en-
couragement given him, for executing this work. The number of
his fubfcribers does him honour. He could have prefented to the
public the firfl names in the nation j but, though more have come
to his hands, than have appeared before the works of authors of
eftablifhed reputation, yet many more have fubfcribed ; and he
chufes to print none at all rather than an imperfed: lift. Deeply
fenfible of the generofity of a certain noble perfon, the tranflator yet
avoids to name him, as his exalted ftation as well as merit has railed
him above the panegyric of one fo little known,
A 2
CONTENTS.
FINGAL, an Epic Poem. BOOK I. Page i
BOOK II. 21
BOOK III. 35
BOOK IV. 49
BOOKV. 6 1
BOOK VI. 73
COMALA : a Dramatic Poem 87
The WAR of CAROS : a Poem 95
TheWARoflNIS-THONA: a Poem 104
The BATTLE of LORA : a Poem 1 1 1
CONLATH and CUTHONA: a Poem 121
CARTHON : a Poem 127
The DEATH of CUCHULLIN : a Poem 143
DARTHULA: a Poem 155
TEMORA : an Epic Poem 172
CARRIC-THURA : a Poem i93
The
CONTENTS.
The SONGS of SELMA 209
CALTHON and COLMAL : a Poem 219
LATHMON: a Poem 228
OITHONA : a Poem 241
CROMA: a Poem 249
BERRATHON : a Poem 257
PREFACE.
PREFACE.
TH E love of novelty, which, In feme degree, is common
to all mankind, is more particularly the charadteriftic of
that mediocrity of parts, which diftinguirties more than one half
of the human fpecies. This inconftant difpofition is never more
confplcuous, than in what regards the article of amufement. We
change our fentimcnts concerning it every moment, and the dif-
tancc between our admiration and extreme contempt, is fo very
fmall, that the one is almofl a fure prefage of the other. The
poets, whofe bufinefs it is to pleafe, if they want to preferve the
fame they have once acquired, muft very often forfeit their own
judgments to this variable temper of the bulk of their readers, and
accommodate their writings to this unfettled tafte. A fame {o
fluduating deferves not to be much valued.
Poetry, like virtue, receives its reward after death. The fame
which men purfued in vain, when living, is often bellowed upon
them when they are not fenfible of it. This negle<fl of living
authors is not altogether to be attributed to that reluftance which
men fhew in praifing and rewarding genius. It often happens, that
the
PR E F A C E.
the man who writes differs greatly from the fame man in common
life. Mis foibles, however, are obhterated by death, and his better
part, his writings, remain ; his charadler is formed from them, and
he that was no extraordinary man in his own time, becomes the
wonder of fucceeding ages. — From this fource proceeds our vene-
ration for the dead. Their virtues remain, but the vices, which
were once blended with their virtues, have died with themfelves.
This confideration might induce a man, diffident of his abilities,
to afcribe his own compofitions to a perfon, whofe remote antiquity
and whofe fituation, when alive, might well anfwer for faults which
would be inexcufable in a writer of this age. An ingenious gentle-
man made this obfervation, before he knew any thing but the
name of the epic poem, which is printed in the following coUedlion.
When he had read it, his fentiments were changed. He found it
abounded too much with thofe ideas, that only belong to the moft
early flate of fociety, to be the work of a modern poet. Of this, I
am perfuaded, the public will be as thoroughly convinced, as this
gentleman was, when they lliall fee the poems ; and that fome will
think, notwithllanding the diladvantages with which the works afcribe
cd to Oflian appear, it would be a very uncommon inftance of feli"-
denial in me to difown them, were they really of my compofition.
I WOULD not have dwelt fo long upon this fubjedi, efpecially as
I have anfwered all reafonable objefiions to the genuinenefs of the
poems in the Differtation, were it not on account of the prejudices
of the prefent age againft the ancient inhabitants of Britain, who ar?
thought to have been incapable of the generous fentiments to be
met with in the poems of Offian.— If we err in praifmg too nmcli
the times of our forefathers, it is alfo as repugnant to good fenii,
to
PREFACE.
to be altogether blind to the imperfections of our own. If our fa-
thers had not fo much wealth, they had certainly fewer vices than
the prefent age. Their tabks, it is true, were not fo well provided,
neither were their beds fo foft as thofe of modern times ; and this, in
the eyes of men who place their ultimate happinefs in thofe conve-
niences of life, gives us a great advantage over them. I fliall not enter
farther into this fubjeifl, but only obferve, that the general poverty of
a nation has not the fame influence, that the indigence of indivi-
duals, in an opulent country, has, upon the manners of th» com-
munity. The idea of meannefs, which is now conneded with a
narrow fortune, had its rife after commerce had thrown too much
property into the hands of a few ; for the poorer fort, imitating the
vices of the rich, were obliged to have recourfe to roguery and cir-
cumvention, in order to fupply their extravagance, fo that they
were, not without reafon, reckoned, in more than one fenfc, the
worft of the people.
It is now two years fince the firil tranflations from the Galic
language were handed about among people of tafle in Scotland.
They became at laft: fo much corrupted, through the carelefsnefs of
tranfcribers, that, for my own fake, I was-obliged to print the ge-
nuine copies. Some other pieces were added, to fwell the publica-
tion into a pamphlet, which was entitled. Fragments of Ancient
Poetry. — The Fragments, upon their firft appearance, were fo much
approved of, that feveral people of rank, as well as tafte, prevailed
with me to make a journey into the Highlands and weftern iiles, in
order to recover what remained of the works of the old bards, efpe-
cially thofe of Oifian, the fon of Fingal, who was the beft, as well
as mod ancient, of thofe who are celebrated in tradition for their
poetical genius. 1 undertook this journey, more from a defire
[ a ] of
PREFACE.
of complying with the requell; of my friends, than from any hopes
I had of anfwering their expeftations. I was not unfucefsful, con-
fidering how much the compofitions of ancient times have been
neglefted, for fome time part, in the north of Scotland. Seve-
ral gentlemen in the Highlands and ifles generouily gave me all
the affiftance in their power ; and it was by their means I was en-
abled to compleat the epic poem. How far it comes up to the
rules of the epopa;a, is the province of criticifm to examine. It
is only my bufinefs to lay it before the reader, as I have found it.
As it is one of the chief beauties of compolition, to be well un-
derftood, I fhall here give the ftory of the poem, to prevent that
obfcurity which the introdud:ion of charafters utterly unknowa
might occafion.
Art HO, fupreme king of Ireland, dying at Temora the royal
palace of the Irifli kings, was fucceeded by Cormac, his fon, a minor.
Cuchullin, the fon of Semo, lord of the IJle of Miji, one of the
Hebrides, being at that time in Ulfter, and very famous for his great
exploits, was, in a convention of the petty kings and heads of tribes
aflembled for that purpofe at Temora, unanimoufly chofen guardian
to the young king. — He had not managed the affairs of Cormac long,
when news was brought, that Swaran, the fon of Starno, king of
Lochlin, or Scandinavia, intended to invade Ireland. Cuchullin
Immediately difpatched Munan, the fon of Stirmal, an Irifli chief,
to Fingal, king of thofe Caledonians who inhabited the weflern coall
of Scotland, to implore his aid. Fingal, as well from a principle
of generofity, as from his connedtion with the royal family of Ire-
land, refolved on an expedition into that country ; but before his
arrival, the enemy had landed in Ulfler. Cuchullin in the mean
time had gathered the flower of the Irifli tribes to Tura, a cafl:le of
Ulfter,
PREFACE.
Ulfter, and difpatched fcouts along the coaft, to give the moll early
intelhgence of the enemy. Such is the fituation of aftairs, when
the poem opens.
CucHULLiN, fitting alone beneath a tree, at the gate of Tura, ^'"S- ^^ l^*
for the other chiefs had gone on a hunting party to Cromla, a
neighbouring hill, is informed of Swaran's landing by Moran, tiie
fon of Fithil, one of his fcouts. He convenes the chiefs ; a council
is held, and dilputes run high about giving battle to the enemy.
Connal, the petty king of Togorma, and an intimate friend of
Cuchullin, was for retreating till Fingal fliould arrive ; but Calmar,
the fon of Matha, lord of Lara, a country in Connaught, was for
engaging the enemy immediately. — Cuchullin, of himfelf willing to
fight, went into the opinion of Calmar. Marching towards the
enemy, he mifled three of his braveft heroes, Fergus, Duchomar,
and Caithbat. Fergus arriving, tells Cuchullin of the death of the
two other chiefs ; which introduces the afFedting epifode of Morna,
the daughter of Cormac — The army of Cuchullin is defcried at a
diilance by Swaran, who fent the fon of Arno to obferve the mo-
tions of the enemy, while he himfelf ranged his forces in order
of battle. The fon of Arno returning to Swaran, defcribes to
him Cuchullin's chariot, and the terrible appearance of that hero-
The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the vidory unde-
cided. Cuchullin, according to the hofpitality of the times, fends-
to Swaran a formal invitation to a feaft, by his bard Carril, the fon
of Kinfena. — Swaran refufes to come. Carril relates to Cuchullin
the ftory of Grudar and BrafTolis. A party, by Connal's advice, is
fent to obferve the enemy ; which clofes the aition of the
firft day.
[ a 2 ] The
PREFACE.
I[_ The gholl: of Crugal, one of the Irifh heroes who was killed in
battle, appearing to Connal, foretels the defeat of Cuchullin in the
next battle; and earneftly advifes him to make peace v/ith Swaran.
Connal communicates the vifion ; but Cuchullin is inflexible from a
principle of honour that he would not be the firft to fue for peace,
and refolved to continue the war. Morning comes ; Swaran pro-
pofes diihonourable terms to Cuchullin, which are rejeded. The
battle begins, and is obliinately fought for fom^e time, until, upon
the flight of Grumal, the whole Irifli army gave way. Cuchullin
and Connal cover their retreat : Carril leads them to a neighbouring-
hill, whither they are foon followed by Cuchullin himfelf, who
defcries the fleet of Fingal making towards the coaft ; but, night
coming on, he loft fight of it again. Cuchullin, dejedled after his de-
feat, attributes his ill fuccefs to the death of Ferda his friend, whom
he had killed fome time before. Carril, to fliew that ill fuccefs did
not always attend thofe who innocently killed their friends, intro-
duces the epifode of Comal and Galvina.
jll, Cuchullin, pleafed with Carril's ftory, infifts with him for more
of his fongs. The bard relates the adlions of Fingal in Lochhn, and
death of Agandecca the beautiful fifter of Swaran. He had fcarce
finiflied when Calmar the Ton of Matha, who had advifed the firft
battle, came wounded from the field, and told them of Swaran's defign
to furprife the remains of the Irifh army. He himfelf propofes to
withftand fingly the whole force of the enemy, in a narrow pafs, till
the Irifli fliould make good their retreat. Cuchullin, touched with the
gallant propofal of Calmar, refolves to accompany him, and orders
Carril to carry off the few that remained of the Irifli. Morning
comes, Calmar dies of his wounds j and, the fliips of the Caledo-
nians appearing, Swaran gives over the purfuit of the Irifli, and re-
turns
PREFACE.
turns to oppofe Fingal's landing. Cuchullin afhamed, after his de-
feat, 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 decifive. The king, who had obferved
the gallant behaviour of his grandfon Ofcar, gives him advices con-
cerning his condudl in peace and war. He recommends to him to
place the example-of his fathers before his eyes, as the heft model
for his conduct ; which introduces the epifode concerning Fainasol-
lis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken un-
der his protedtion, in his youth, Fillan and Ofcar are difpatched
to obferve the motions of the enemy by night ; Gaul the fon of
Morni defires the command of the army, in the next battle j
which Fingal promifes to give him. The fong of the bards clofes
the third day.
The adllon of the poem being fufpended by night, Offian takes that g jy^
opportunity to relate his own aftions at the lake of Lego, and his
courtlhip of Evirallin, who was the mother of Ofcar, and had died
fome time before the expedition of Fingal into Ireland. Her ghoft
appears to him, and tells him that Ofcar, who had been fent, the
beginning of the night, to obferve the enemy, was engaged with
an advanced party, and almoft overpowered. Offian relieves his
fon ; and an alarm is given to Fingal of the approach of Swaran.
The king rifes, calls his army together, and, as he had promifed
the preceding night, devolves the command on Gaul the fon of
Morni, while he himfelf, after charging his fons to behave gallantly
and defend his people, retires to a hill, from whence he could have
a view of the battle. The battle joins ; the poet relates Ofcar's
great adions. But when Ofcar, in conjundlion with his father, con-
quered in one wing, Gaul, who was attacked by Swaraji in perfon,
3 was
PREFACE.
was on the point of retreating in the other. Fingal fends Ullin his
bard to encourage him \vith a war fong, but notwithftanding Swaran
prevails; and Gaul and his army are obliged to give way. Fingal,
defcending from the hill, rallies them again: Swaran defifts from the
purfuit, poffeffes himfelf of a riiing ground, reflores the ranks, and
waits the approach of Fingal. The king, having encouraged his
men, gives the neceffary orders, and renews the battle. Cuchullin,
who, with his friend Connal, and Carril his bard, had retired to
the cave of Tura, hearing the noife, came to the brow of the hill,
which overlooked the field of battle, where he faw Fingal engaged
with die enemy. He, being hindered by Connal from joining Fin-
gal, who was himfelf upon the point of obtaining a complete vic-
tory, fends Carril to congratulate that hero on his fuccefs.
In the mean time Fingal and Swaran meet ; the combat is de-
fcribed : Swaran is overcome, bound and delivered over as a prifoner
to the care of Offian and Gaul the fon of Morni ; Fingal, his younger
fons, and Ofcar, ftill purfue the enemy. The epifode of Orla a
chief of Lochlin, who was mortally wounded in the battle, is in-
troduced. Fingal, touched with the death of Orla, orders the
purfuit to be difcontinued ; and calling his fons together, he is in-
formed that Ryno, the youngeft of them, was killed. He laments
his death, hears the ftory of Lamdarg and Gelcholla, and returns
towards the place where he had left Swaran. Carril, who had been
fent by Cuchullin to congratulate Fingal on his vidory, comes in the
mean time to Offian. The converfation of the two poets clofes the
adtion of the fourth day.
Night comes on. Fingal gives a feaft to his army, at which
Swaran is prefent. The king commands Ullin his bard to give the
PREFACE.
fong of peace; a cuftom always obferved at the end of a war. Ullin
relates the adions of Trenmor, great grandfather to Fingal, in Scan-
dinavia, and his marriage with Inibaca, the daughter of a king of
Lochlin who was anceftor to Swaran ; which confideration, toge-
ther with his being brother to Agandecca, with whom Fingal was
in love in his youth, induced the king to releafe him, and permit
him to return, with the remains of his army, into Lochlin, upon
his promile of never returning to Ireland, in a hoftile manner. The
night is fpent in fettling Swaran's departure, in fongs of bards, and
in a converfation in which the flory of Grumal is introduced by
Fingal. Morning comes. Swaran departs -, Fingal goes on a hunt-
ing party, and finding Cuchullln in the cave of Tura, comforts him,
and fets fail, the next day, for Scotland ; which concludes the poem.
The ftory of this poem is fo little interlarded with fable, that
one cannot help thinking it the genuine hiftory of Fingal's expedi-
tion, embelliflied by poetry. In that cafe, the compofuions of Of-
fian are not lefs valuable for the light they throw on the ancient
ftate of Scotland and Ireland than they are for their poetical merit.
Succeeding generations founded on them all their traditions con-
cerning that period ; and they magnified or varied them, in propor-
tion as they were fwayed by credulity or defign. The bards of
Ireland, .by alcribing to Offian compofitions which, are evidently
their own, have occafioned a general belief, in that country, that
Fingal was of Irilh extraction, and not of the ancient Caledonians,
as is faid in the genuine poems of OlEan. The inconfiitencies be-
tween thofe fpurious pieces prove the ignorance of their authors. \\\
one of them Ollian is made to mention, himfelf as baptifed by St..
Patrick, in another he fpeaks of the famous crufade, which was not
begun in Europe for many centuries after.
Though
PREFACE.
Though this anachronilm quite deftroys the authority of the
bards with refpe<ft to Fingal ; yet their defire to make him their
countryman fliews how famous he was in Ireland as well as in the
north of Scotland.
Had the Senachies of Ireland been as well acquainted with the
antiquities of their nation as they pretended, they might derive as
much honour from Fingal's being a Caledonian, as if he had been
an Irifliman ; for both nations were almoft the fame people in the
davs of that hero. The Celts, who inhabited Britain and Ireland
before the invafion of the Romans, though they were divided into
numerous tribes, yet, as the fame language and cuftoms, and the me-
mory of their common origin remained among them, they conlidered
themfelves as one nation. After South Britain became a province of
Rome, and its inhabitants begun to adopt the language and caftoms
of their conquerors, the Celtae beyond the pale of the empire, con-
lidered them as a diftindl people, and confequently treated them as
enemies. On the other hand, the flridleft amity fubfifted between
the Irirh and Scots Celtae for many ages, and the cuftoms and an-
cient language of both ftill remaining, leave no room to doubt that
they were of old one and the fame nation.
It was at firft intended to prefix to Offian's poems a difcourfe con-
cerning the ancient inhabitants of Britain ; but as a gentleman, in
the north of Scotland, who has thoroughly examined the antiquities
of this ifland, and is perfedly acquainted with all the branches of the
Celtic tongue, is juft now preparing for the prefs a work on that
fubjed, the curious are referred to it.
DISSERTATION
CONCERNING THE
ANTIQ^UITY, &'c. of the POEMS of
OSSIAN the Son of FINGAL.
INQUIRIES into the antiquities of nations afford more pleafure
than any real advantage to mankind. The ingenious may form
fyftems of hiftory on probabiUties and ^ few fadtsj but at a great
diftance of time, their accounts mufl be vague and uncertain. The
infancy of Hates and kingdoms is as deftitute of great events, as of
the means of tranfmitting them to pofterity. The arts of pohfhed
life, by which alone facts can be preferved with certainty, are the
produdlion of a well formed community. It is then hirtorians begin
to writs, and public tranfadlions to be w'orthy remembrance. The
adions of former times are left in obfcurity, or magnified by uncer-
tain traditions. Hence it is that we find fo much of the marvellous
in the origin of every nation ; pofterity being always ready to believe
any thing, however fabulous, that reflefts honour on their anceftors.
The Greeks and Romans were remarkable for this weaknefs. They
fwallowed the moll abfurd fables concerning the high antiquities of
their refpeclive nations. Good hiftorians, however, rofe very early
a amoneft
?)in. I. 6,
A DISSERTATION concerning the
amongft them, and tranfmitted, with luftre, their great aftions to
pofterity. It is to them that they owe that unrivalled fame they
now enjoy, while the great adions of other nations are involved in-
fables, or loft in obfcurity. The Celtic nations afford a ftriking in-
fiance of this kind. They, though once the mafters of Europe
from the mouth of the river Oby, in Ruffia, to Cape Finiftere, the
weftern point of Gallicia in Spain, are very little mentioned in hi-
ftory. They trufted tlieir fame to tradition and the fongs of their
bards, which, by the viciffitude of human affairs, are long lince loft.
Their ancient language is the only monument that remains of them ;
and the traces of it being found in places fo widely diftant of
each other, ferves only to fliew the extent of their ancient power,,
but throws very little light on their hlftory.
Of all the Celtic nations, that which pofTelTed old Gaul is the
niofl: renowned; not perhaps on account of worth fuperior to the
refl, but for their wars with a people who had hiftorians to trans-
mit the fame of their enemies, as well as their own, to pofterity.
Cjef. I. 5. Britain was firfl peopled by them, according to the teftimony of the
Tac. Agric.
J. I.e. 2. t»efl authors ; its fituation in refpe<5l to Gaul makes the opinion pro-
bable ; but what puts it beyond all difpute, is that the fi^me cu-
Von^'^ M 1 ^°"^^ ^""^ language prevailed among the inhabitants of both in the.:
Tacitus. days of Julius Ca^far.
The colony from Gaul pofl'efTed themfelves, at iirfl:, of that part
of Britain which was next to their own country ; and fpreading
northward, by degrees, as they increafed in numbers, peopled the
whole illand. Some adventurers paffing over from thofe parts of
Britain that are within fight of Ireland, were the founders of the
Irifh nation : which is a more probable flory than the idle fables of
Dio.Sic.1. 5,Milefian and Gallician colonies. Diodorus Siculus mentions it as a
z thine
ANTIQJLJITV, &c. of OSSIANs POEMS. i«
tiling well knov/n in his time, that the inhabitants of Ireland were
originally Britons ; and his teftimony is unqueftionable, when m'c
confider that, for many ages, the language and cuftoms of both na-
tions were the fame.
Tacitus was of opinion that the ancient Caledonians were of
German extradl. By the language and cuftoms wliich always pre-
vailed in the North of Scotland, and which are undoubtedly Celtic,
one would be tempted to differ in opinion from that celebrated wri-
ter. The Germans, properly fo called, were not the fame with the
ancient Celtae. The manners and cuftoms of the two nations were
iimilar ; but their language difterent. The Germans are the ge- Strabo 1. ^.
nuine defendants of the ancient Dage, afterwards well known by
the name of Daci, and pafled originally into Europe by the way of '
the northern coixntries, and fettled beyond the Danube, towards the
vail regions of Tranfilvania, Wallachia, and Moldavia ; and from
thence advanced by degrees into Germany. The Celta;, it is cer- C«f. I. 6.
tain, fent many Colonies into that country, all of whom retained their t'^' 'j ^'
own laws, language, and cuftoms j and it is of them, if any colonies mor. Germ,
came from Germany into Scotland, that the ancient Caledonians
were defcended.
But whether the Caledonians were a colony of the Celtic Ger-
mans, or the fame with the Gauls that firft poflefled themfelves of
Britain, is a matter of no moment at this diftance of time. What-
ever their origin was, we find them very numerous in the time of
Julius Agricola, which is a prefumption that they were long before
fettled in the country. The form of their government was a mix-
ture of ariftocracy and monarchy, as it was in all the countries where
the Druids bore the chief fway. This order of men feems to have
been formed on the fame fyftem with the Daayli Idsi and Curetfs
3 2 of
iv A DISSERTATION concerning the
of the ancients. Their pretended intercourfe with heaven, their
magic and divination were the lame. The knowledge of the Druids
in n.itural caufes, and the properties of certain things, the fruit of
the experiments of ages gained them a mighty reputation among the
people. The efteem of the populace foon increafed into a venera-
tion for the order; which a cuninng and ambitious tribe of men
took care to improve, to fuch a degree, that they, in a manner, in-
grofled the management of civil, as well as religious, matters. It is
generally allowed that they did not abufe this extraordinary power;
the preferving their charailer of fanftity was fo eflential to their in-
fluence, that they never broke out into violence or opprefTion. The
chiefs were allowed to execute the laws, but the legiflative power
Cxi 1. 6. '^'^s entirely in the hands of the Druids. It was by their authority
that the tribes were united, in times of the greateft danger, under one
Fer-gu- head. This temporary king, or Vergobretus, was chofen by them,
vnntohcl'e '^"'^ generally laid down his office at the end of the war. Thefe
priefls enjoyed long this extraordinaiy privilege among the Celtic
nations who lay beyond the pale of the Roman empire. It was in
the beginning of the fecond century that their power among the Ca-
ledonians begun to decline. The poems that celebrate Trathal and
Cormac, anceftors to Fingal, are full of particulars concerning the
fall of the Druids, v/hich account for the total iilence concerning
their religion in the poems that are now given to the public.
The continual wars of the Caledonians againil the Romans hin-
dered the nobility from initiating themfelvcs, as the cuflom for-
merly was, into the order of the Druids. The precepts of their
religion were confined to a k\v, and were not much attended to by a
people inured to war. Tke Vergobretus, or chief magiftrate, was
chofen without the concurrence of the hierarchy, or continued in
Iv's office againil their will. Continual power firengthened his in-
tercft
ANTIQJJITY, 6cc. of OSSIAN's POEMS.
tcrcil: among the tribes, and enabled him to fend down, as heredi-
tary to his pofterity, the office he had only received himfelf
by election.
On occafion of a new war againfl the Khig of the World, as tlie
poems emphatically call the Roman emperor, the Druids, to vindi-
cate the honour of the order, began to refume their ancient privi-
lege of chufmg the Vergobretus. Garmal, the fon of Tarno, being
deputed by them, came to the grandfather of the celebrated Fingal,
who was then Vergobretus, and commanded him, in the name of
the whole order, to lay down his office. Upon his refufal, a civil
war commenced, which foon ended in almoft the total extinction of
the religious order of the Druids. A few that remained, retired to
the dark recefl'es of their groves, and the caves they had formerly
ufed for their meditations. It is then we find them in the circle of
jlones, and unheeded by the world. A total difregard for the order,
and utter abhorrence of the Druidical rites enfued. Under this
cloud of public hate, all that had any knowledge of the religion of
the Druids became extindl, and the nation fell into the laft degree
of ignorance of their rites and cerem.onies.
It is no matter of wonder then, that Fingal and his fon Offian make
fo little, if any, mention of the Druids, who were the declared enemies
to their fucceffion in the fupreme magiftracy. It is a fingular cafe,
it mnft be allowed, that there are no traces of religion in the poems
afcribed to Offian ; as the poetical compofitions of other nations are
fo clofely connefted with their mythology. It is hard to account
for it to thofe who are not made acquainted with the manner of the
old Scottifh bards. That race of men carried their notions of mar-
tial honour to an extravagant pitch. Any aid given their heroes in
battle, was thought to derogate from their flime ; and the bai-ds
imme-
vl A DISSERTATION concerning the
immediately transferred the glorj' of the adtion to him who had
given that aid.
Had Oilian brought down gods, as often asTIomer hath done, to
aflift his heroes, this poem had not confifted of elogiums on his
friends, but of hymns to thefe fuperior beings. To this day, thofe
that write in the Gahc language feldom mention religion in their
profane poetry ; and when they profefTedly write of religion, they
never interlard with their compofitions, the actions of their heroes.
This cuflom alone, even though the religion of the Druids had not
been previoufly extinguiflied, may, in fome meafure, account for
Offian's filence concerning the religion of his own times.
To Hiy, that a nation is void of all religion, is the fame thing
as to fay, that it does not confill: of people endued with reafon.
The traditions of their fathers, and their own obfervations on the
works of nature, together with that fuperftition which is inherent
in the human frame, have, in all ages, raifed in the minds of men
fome idea of a fuperior being. — Hence it is, that in the darkeft
times, and amongft the moll barbarous nations, the very populace
themfelves had fome faint notion, at leaft, of a divinity. It \\-ould
be doing injuftice to Oflian, who, upon no occalion, fhews a narrow
mind, to think, that he had not opened his conceptions to that
primitive and greateft of all truths. But let Offian's religion be
what it will, it is certain he had no knowledge of Chriftianity, as
there is not the leaft allufion to it, or any of its rites, in his poems ;
which abfolutely fixes him to an a;ra prior to the introdufticn of
that religion. The perfecution begun by Dioclefun, in the year
■^c^, is the mcft probable time in which the firfl dawning of Chri-
ftianity in the north of Britain can be fixed. — The humane and
mild charadler of Coriftantius Chlorus, who commanded then in
Britain,
A N T I QJJ I T I E S, Sec. of O S S I AN's POEMS. vli
Britain, induced the perfecutcd Chriftians to take refuj^e under him.
Some of them, through a zeal to propagate their tenets, or through
fear, went beyond the, pale of the Roman empire, and fettled among
the Caledonians ; who were the more ready to hearken to their
dodlrines, as the religion of the Druids had been exploded fo long.
before.
These miffionaries, either through choice, or to give more
weight to the dodrine they advanced, took pofleilion of the cells
and groves of the Druids ; and it was from this retired life they had
the name of Culdees, which in the language of the country fignified Culdicb,
fequejlered perfons. It was with one of the Culdees that Offian, in
his extreme old age, is faid to have difputed concerning the Chriftian
religion. This difpute is ftill extant, and is couched in verfe, ac-
cording to the cuftom of the times. The extreme ignorance on the
part of Ollian, of the Chriftian tenets, fhews, that that religion
had only been lately introduced, as it is not eafy to conceive, how
one of the firft rank could be totally unacquainted with a religion
that had been known for any tim.e in the country. The dif-
pute bears the genuine marks of antiquity. The obfolete phrafes
and expreffions peculiar to the times, prove it to be no forgery. If
Offii-n then lived at the introdudlion of Chriftianity, as by all ap-
pearance he did, his .epoch will be the latter end of the third, and
beginning of the fourth century. What puts this point beyond dif-
pute, is the allufion in his poems to the hiftory of the times.
The exploits of Fingal againft Caracul, the fon of the King of thedrzz'hmV^,
World, are among the firft brave anions of his youth. A complete ''''''''^•* ''•^*'''
poem, ^yhich relates to this fubjedl, is printed in this colleaiion.
Ih:
viii A DISSERTATION concerning the
In the year 2 lo the emperor Severus, after returning from his ex~
peditions againil the Caledonians, at York fell into the tedious ill-
nefs of which he afterwards died. The Caledonians and Maiatx,
refuming courage from his indiipofition, took arms in order to re-
cover the pofleffions they had loll. The enraged emperor com-
manded his army to march into their country, and to deftroy it with
fire and fword. His orders were but ill executed, for his fon, Ca-
racalla, was at the head of the army, and his thoughts were entirely
taken up with the hopes of his father's death, and with fchemes to
fupplant his brother Geta. — He fcarcelv had entered the enemy's
country, when news was brought him that Severus v.as dead. — A
fudden peace is patched up with the Caledonians, and, as it appears
from Dion CalTius, the country they had lolt to Severus was re-
ftored to them.
The Caracul of Fingal is no other than Caracalla, who, as the
fon of Severus, the Emperor of Rome, whofe dominions were ex-
tended almoft over the known world, was not without reafbn called
in the poems of Offian, t/je Son of the King of the World. The
fpace of time between 211, the year Severus died, and the begin-
ning of the fourth century, is not fo great, but Offian the fon of
Fingal, might have feen the Chriftians whom the perfecution under
Dioclelian had dri\en beyond the pale of the Roman empire.
OssiAN,inone of his many lamentations on the death of his beloved
fon Ofcar, mentions among his great actions, a battle which he fought
Caravon, againft Caros, king of ihips, on the banks of the winding Carun.
tmmg r.- j^. j^ ytxQ^^ than probable, that the Caros mentioned here, is the fame
with the noted ufurper Caraufius, who atTumed the purple in the
year 287, and feizing on Britain, defeated the emperor jVIaximian
Herculius, in feveral naval engagements, which gives propriety to
his
ANTIQJJITY, &c. of OSSIAN's POEMS. ix
his being called in Ollian's poems, t/je Ki/ig of Ships. The 'winding
Carun is that fmall river retaining flill the name of Car ron, and runs
in the neighbourhood of Agricola's wall, which Caraufius repaired
to obftrudl the incurfions of the Caledonians. Several other paflages
in the poems allude to the wars of the Romans ; but the two juft
mentioned clearly fix the epoch of Fingal to the third century >
and this account agrees exactly with the Irifh hillories, which place
the death of Fingal, the fon of Comhal, in the year 2S3, and that
of Ofcar and their own celebrated Cairbre, in the year 296.
Some people may imagine, that the allufions to the Roman hif-
tory might have been induftrioufly inferted into the poems, to give
them the nppearance of antiquity. This fraud mufl then have been
committed at leaft three ages ago, as the paflages in which the
allufions are made, are alluded to often in the compofitions of
thofe times.
Every one knows what a cloud of ignorance and barbarifm
overfpread the north of Europe three hundred years ago. The
minds of men, addidled to fuperftition, contracted a narrownefs that
deftroyed genius. Accordingly we find the compofitions of thofe
times trivial and puerile to the lall degree. But let it be allowed,
that, amidfl all the untoward circumftances of the age, a genius
might arife, it is not eafy to determine what could induce him to give
the honour of his compofitions to an age fo remote. We find no
fadl that he has advanced, to favour any defigns which could be
entertained by any man who lived in the fifteenth century. But
fliould we fuppofe a poet, through humour, or for reafons which
cannot be feen at this diilance of time, would afcribe his own com-
pofitions to Ofiian, it is next to impofiible, that he could impofe
b upon
A DISSERTATION concerning the
upon his countiymen, when all of them were fo well acquainted'
with the traditional poems of their anceftors.
The ftrongeft objection to the authenticity of the poems now
given to the public under the name of Oflian, is the improbability
of their being handed down by tradition through fo many centuries.
Ages of barbarifm fome will fay, could not produce poems abound-
ing with the difuiterefled and generous fentiments fo confpicuous in.
the compofitions of OfTian ; and could thefe ages produce them, it
is impoflible but they muft be loft, or altogether corrupted in a long
fucceffion of barbarous generations.
These objedions naturally fuggeft themfelves to men unac-
quainted with the ancient ftate of the northern parts of Britain..
The bards, who were an inferior order of the Druids, did not;
fhare their bad fortune. They were fpared by the vidlorious king;,
as it was through their means only he could hope for immortality
to his fame. They attended him in the camp, and contributed' to
eftablifh his power by their fongs. His great aflions were magni-
fied, and the populace, who had no ability to examine into his cha-
rader narrowly, were dazzled with his fame in tlae rhimes of the
bards. In the mean time, men afTumed fentiments that are rarely
to be met with in an age of barbarifm. The bards who were
originally the difciples of the Druids, had their minds opened, and
their ideas enlarged, by being initiated in the learning of that
celebrated order. They could form a perfedl hero in their own
minds, and afcribe that charadler to their prince. The inferior
chiefs made this ideal character the model of their condudl, and
by degrees brought their minds to that generous fpirit which
breathes in all the poetry of the times. The prince, flattered by
his'
ANTIQJJITY, &c. of OSSIAN's POEMS. xi
liis bards, and rivalled by his own heroes, who imitated his cha-
racfler as defcribed in the eulogies of his poets, endeavoured to
excel his people in merit, as he was above them in ftation. This
emulation continuing, formed at laft the general charader of the
nation, happily compounded of what is noble in barbarity, and
virtuous and generous in a poliflied people.
When virtue in peace, and bravery in war, are the charadleriftics
of a nation, their adlions become interefting, and their fame worthy
of immortality. A generous fpirit is warmed with noble a(flions,
and becomes ambitious of perpetuating them. This is the true
fource of that divine infpiration, to which the poets of all ages pre-
tended. When they found their themes inadequate to the warmth
of their imaginations, they varniflied them over with fables, fup-
plied by their own fancy, or furnirtied by abfurd traditions. Thefe
fables, however ridiculous, had their abettors ; pofterity either im- '
plicitly believed them, or through a vanity natural to mankind,
pretended that they did. They loved to place the founders of their
families in the days of fable, when poetry, without the fear of
contradidion, could give what charaders flie pleafed of her heroes.
It is to this vanity that we owe the prefervation of what remain of
the works of OlTian. His poetical merit made his heroes famous in
a country where heroifm was much efteemed and admired. The
pofterity of thele heroes, or thofe who pretended to be delcended
from them, heard with pleafure the eulogiums of their anceftors ;
bards were employed to repeat the poems, and to record the con-
nexion of their patrons with chiefs fo renowned. Every chief in
procefs of time had a bard in his family, and the office became at
laft hereditary. By the fucceffion of thefe bards, the poems con-
cerning the anceftors of the family were handed down from ge-
nwation to generation ; they were repeated to the whole clan on
b 2 folemn
^
A DISSERTATION concerning the
folemn occafions, and always alluded to in the new compoiitions of
the bards. This cuftom came down near to our own times ; and
after the bards were difcontinued, a great number in a clan retained
by memory, or committed to writing, their compofitions, and found-
ed the antiquity of their families on the authority of their poems.
The ufe of letters was not known in the North of Europe till long
after the inftitution of the bards : thj records of the families of their
patrons, their own, and more ancient poems were handed down by
tradition. Their poetical compofitions were admirably contrived
for that purpofe. They were adapted to mufic ; and the moft per-
fedl harmony obferved. Each verie was fo connedled with thofe
which preceded or followed it, that if one line had been remember-
ed in a ftanza, it was almolt impoffible to forget the reft. The ca-
dences followed in fo natural a gradation, and the words were fo
adapted to the common turn of the voice, after it is raifed to a cer-
tain key, that it was almoft impoffible, from a fimilarity of found,
to fubftitute one word for another. This excellence is peculiar to the
Celtic tongue, and is perhaps to be met with in no other language.
Nor does this choice of words clog the fenfe or weaken the expref-
fion. The numerous fledlions of confonants, and variation in de-
clenfion, make the language very copious.
The defcendants of the Celtje, who inhabited Britain and its iOes,
were not fingular in this method of preferving the moll precious
monuments of their nation. The ancient laws of the Greeks were
couched in verfe, and handed down by tradition. The Spartans,
through a long habit, became fo fond of this cuftom, that they
would never allow their laws to be committed to writing. The ac-
tions of great men, and the elogiums of kings and heroes were pre-
fcrved in the fame manner. All tlie hiilorical monuments of the
old
ANTIQUITY, Sec. of OSSIANs POEMS. xlii
old Germans were comprehended in their ancient fongs ; which Tacitus de
were either hymns to their gods, or elegies in praife of their he-
roes, and were intended to perpetuate the great events in their na-
tion which were carefully interwoven them. This Ipecies of com- j^^^ j^ ^^
pofition was not committed to writing, but delivered by oral tradi- BL-wie Re-
11 1 1 ' 1 • 1 -1 '"'^rques jur
tion. The care they took to have the poems taught to their ch\\- la Germanie.
dren, the uninterrupted cuftom of repeating them upon certain oc-
cafions, and the happy meafure of the verfe, ferved to preferve them
for a long time uncorrupted. This oral chronicle of the Germans
was not forgot in the eighth century, and it probably would have re-
mained to this day, had not learning, which thinks every thing,
that is not committed to v/riting, fabulous, b^en introduced. It
was from poetical traditions that GarcillalTo compofed his account of
the Yncas of Peru. The Peruvians had lort: all other monuments
of their hiflory, and it was from ancient poems which his mother,
a princefs of the blood of the Yncas, taught him in his youth, that
he colledled the materials of his hiftory. If other nations then, that
had been often overun by enemies, and had fent abroad and received
colonies, could, for many ages, preferve, by oral tradition, their
laws and hiftories uncorrupted, it is much more probable that the
ancient Scots, a people fo free of intermixture with foreigners, and
fo ftrongly attached to the memory of their anceftors, had the works
of their bards handed down with great purity.
It will feem flrange to fome, that poems admired for many cen-
turies in one part of this kingdom fliould be hitherto unknown in
the other ; and that the Britifh, who have carefully traced out the
works of genius in other nations, fliould fo long remain ftrangers to
their own. This, in a great meafure, is to be imputed to thofe
who underftood both languages and never attempted a tranflation.
They, from being acquainted but with detached pieces, or from a
z modefty,.
A DISSERTATION concerning the
modefty, which perhaps the prefent tranflator ought. In prudence,
to have followed, defpaired of making the compolitions of their
bards agreeable to an Englifli reader. The manner of thofe com-
pofitions is fo different from other poems, and the ideas fo confined
to the moft early ftate of fociety, that it was thought they had not
enough of variety to pleafe a pollflied age.
This was long the opinion of the tranflator of the following col-
lection i and though he admired the poems, in the original, very
early, and gathered part of them from tradition for his own amufe-
ment, yet he never had the fmalleft hopes of feeing them In an
■Englifli drefs. He was fenfible that the llrength and manner of
both languages were very different, and that it was next to impof-
fible to tranflate the Galic poetry into any thing of tolerable Englifli
verfe ; a profe tranflation he could never think of, as it mull: necef-
£irily fall fliort of the majefty of an original. It was a gentleman,
who has himfelf made a figure in the poetical world, that gave him
the firfl hint concerning a literal profe tranflation. He tried it at
his defire, and the fpecimen was approved. Other gentlemen were
earnefl in exhorting him to bring more to the light, and it is to
their uncommon zeal that the world owes the Galic poems, if they
have any merit.
It was at firft intended to make a general colledlion of all the an-
cient pieces of genius to be found in the Galic language ; but the
tranflator had his reafons for confining himfelf to the remains of the
works of Offian. The adlion of the poem that flands the firft, was
not the greateft or moft celebrated of the exploits ofFingal. His
wars were very numerous, and each of them afforded a theme which
employed the genius of his fon. But, excepting theprefent poem, thofe
pieces are irrecoverably loft, and there only remain a few fragments
4 in
ANTIQUITY &c. of OSSIAN's POEMS.
in tlie hands of tlie tranflator. Tradition has ftill prefei-ved, in
many places, the ftory of the poems, and many now living havQ
heard them, in their youth, repeated.
The complete work, now printed, would, in a fliort time, have
fliared the fate of the reft. The genius of the highlanders has fuf-
fered a great change within thefe few years. The communicatioa
with the reft of the ifland is open, and the introdudlion of trade and
manufadlures has deftroyed that leifure which was formerly dedicated
to hearing and repeating the poems of ancient times. Many have
now learned to leave their mountains, and feek their fortunes in a
milder climate ; and though a certain amor patrice may fometimes
bring them back, they have, during their abfence, imbibed enough
of foreign manners to defpife the cuftoms of their anceftors. Bards
have been long difufed, and the fpirit of genealogy has greatly fub-
fided. Men begin to be lefs devoted to their chiefs; and confan-
guinity is not fo much regarded. When property is eftablifhed, the
human mind confines its views to the pleafure it procures. It does
not go back to antiquity, or look forward to fuccecding ages. The
cares of life increafe, and the actions of other times no longer amufe;
Hence it is, that the tafte for their ancient poetry is at a low ebb
among the highlanders. They have not, however, thrown off the
good qualities of their anceftors. Hofpitality ftill fubfifts, and an.
uncommon civility to ftrangers. Friendfhip is inviolable, and re-
venge lefs blindly followed than formerly.
To fay any thing, concerning the poetical merit of the poems, ,
would be an anticipation on the judgment of the public. The poem
which ftands firft in the colledlion. is truly epic. The charadters are
ftrongly marked, and the fentiments breathe heroifm. The fubjed of
it is an invafion of Ireland by Swaran king of Lochlin, whicii is the
oame-
A DISSERTATION, &c.
name of Scandinavia in the Galic language, CuchuUin, general of
the Irilh tribes in the minority of Cormac king of Ireland, upon in-
telligence of the invafion, aflembled his forces near Tura, a caftie
on the coaft of Ullier. The poem opens with the landing of Swa-
ran, councils are held, battles fought, and Cuchullin is, at laft,
totally defeated. In the mean time, Fingal, king of Scotland, whofe
aid was follicited before the enemy landed, arrived and expelled
them from the country. This v.ar, which continued but fix days
and as many nights, is, including the epifodcs, the whole ftory of
the poem. The fcene is the heath of Lena near a mountain called
Cromleach in Uliler.
All that can be laid of the tranilation, is that it is literal, and
that fmiplicity is ftudied. The arrangement of the words in the
original is imitated, and the inverlions of the ftyle obferved. As the
tranflator claims no merit from his verfion, he hopes for the indul-
gence of the public where he fails. He wiflies that the imperfecft
femblance he draws, may not prejudice the world againft an origi-
nal, which contains what is beautiful in fimplicity, and grand in
the fubhme.
A D \' E R -
( ' )
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIIiINT
EPIC POEM.
In SIX BOOKS.
BOOK I.
CUCHULLIN * fat by Tura's wall; by the tree of the ruft-
ling leaf.- His fpear leaned againft the mofly rock. His
fbield lay by him on the grafs. As he thought of mighty Car-
• Cachullin the Ton of Semo and grand- fole manager of the war againfl Swaran
fon to Caithbat a druid celebrated in tra- king of Lochlin. After a feries of great
ditioti for his wifdom and valour. Cu- a£lions he was kiHed in battle fomewheie
chullin when very young married Bragela in Connaught, in the twenty-feventh year
the daughter of Sorglan, and paffing over of his age. He was fo remarkable for his
into Ireland, lived for fome time with Con- ftrength, that to defcribe a ftrong man it
nal, grandfon by a daughter to Congal the has pafled into a proverb, «' He has the
petty king of Ulfter. His wifdom and ftrengthof Cuchullin." They (hew the re-
valour in a (hort time gained him fuch mains of his palace at Dunfcaich in the
reputaiion, that in the minority of Cor- Ifle of Skye ; and a ftone to which he
mac the fupreme king of Ireland, he was bound his dog Luath, goes ftill by his
chofen guardian to the young king, and name.
B bar.
I N
A L,
Book L
bar *, a hero whom he flew in war ; the fcout -f of the ocean came
Moran ■\. the fon of Fithil.
Rise, faid the youth, CuchuUin, rife; I fee the fliips of Swaran.
Cuchulhn, many are the foe : many the heroes of the dark-roll-
ing fea.
MoR AN ! replied the blue-eyed chief, thou ever trembleft, fon of
Fithil : Thy fears have much increafed the foe. Perhaps it is the
king II of the lonely hills coming to aid me on green Ullin's plains.
I SAW their chief, fays Moran, tall as a rock of ice. His fpear
Is like that blafted fir. His fliield like the rifmg moon -|-« He fat
on a rock on the fliore : like a cloud of mift on the filent hill.
Many, chief of men ! I faid, many are our hands of war. Well
* Cairbar or Cairbre fignifies a firong
man.
-f- Cuchullin having previous intelligence
of the invafion intended by Swaran, fent
fcouts all over the coaft of Ullin or Ulfter,
to give early notice of the firft appearance
of the enemy, at the fame time that he
fent Munan the fon of Stirmal to implore
the afliftance of Fingal. He himfelf col-
lefled the flower of the Irifli youth to Tu-
ra, a caftle on the coaft, to ftop the pro-
orefsof the enemy till Fingal fhould arrive
from Scotland. We may conclude from
Cuchullin's applying fo early for foreign
aid, that the Irifh were not then fo numerous
as they have fince been ; which is a great
prcfumption againft the high antiquities of
that people. We have the teftimony of
Tacitus that one legion only was thought
fufficient, in the time of Agricola, to re«
duce the whole ifland under the Roman
yoke ; which would not probably have been
the cafe had the ifland been inhabited for
any number of centuries before.
% Moran fignifies many ; and Fithil, or
rather Fili, an inferior bard.
II Fingal the fon of Comhal and Morna
the daughter of Thaddu. His grandfather
was Trathal, and great grandfather Trcn-
mor, both of whom are often mentioned
in the poem.
4- His ponderous fliield
Behind him caft ; the broad circumference
Hung on his flioulders lilce the Moon.
Milton.
]
art
Book I. An E P I C P O E M. 3
art thou named, the Mighty Man, but many mighty men are {cen
from Tura's walls of wind. He anfwercd, like a wave on a
rock, who in this land appears like me ? Heroes ftand not in my
prefence : they fall to earth beneath my hand. None can meet
Swaran in the fight but Fingal, king of ftormy hills. Once we
wreflled on the heath of Malmor *, and our heels overturned the
wood. Rocks fell from their place j and rivulets, changing their
courfe, fled murmuring from our ftrife. Three days we renewed
our ftrife, and heroes flood at a diftance and trembled. On the
fourth, Fingal fays, that the king of the ocean fell ; but Swaran
fays, he flood. Let dark Cuchullin yield to him that is flrong as
the florms of Malmor.
No : replied the blue-eyed chief, I will never yield to man.
Dark Cuchullin will be great or dead. Go, Fithil's fon, and take
my fpear : flrike the founding fliield of Cabait -j-. It hangs at Tu-
ra's ruflling gate j the found of peace is not its voice. My heroes
fliall hear on the hill.
He went and flruck the boffy fhield. The hills and their rocks
replied. The found fpread along the wood : deer flart by the lake
of roes. Curach ij; leapt from the founding rock; and Connal of
the bloody fpear. Crugal's || breafi: of fnow beats high. The fan
ofFavi leaves the dark-brown hind. It is the Ihieldofwar, faid
Ronnar, the fpear of Cuchullin, faid Lugar. Son of the fea put
* Meal-mor — a great hill, ' of his own ftiield in the 4th book. — A horn
f Cabait, or rather Cathbait, grandfather was the moft common inftrument to call
to the hero, was fo remarkable for his va- the army together before the invention of
lour, that his fhield was made ufe of to bagpipes.
alarm his pofterity to the battles of the fa- j. Cu-raoch iignifies the madnifs of battle.
mily. We find Fingal making the fame ufe j| Cm\\\-gt?L\—fair-a,7npkxiii>ied.
B 2 OH
4 F I N G A L, Book I.
on thy arms ! Calmar lift thy founding fteel ! Puno ! horrid hero,
rife : Cairbar from thy red tree of Cromla. Bend thy white knee,
O Eth ; and defcend from the ftreams of Lena. Ca-olt ftretch
thy white fide as thou moveft along the whiftling heath of Mora :
thy fide that is white as the foam of the troubled fea, when the
dark winds pour it on the murmuring rocks of Cuthon *.
Now I behold the chiefs in the pride of their former deeds ; their
fouls are kindled at the battles of old, and the aftions of other
times. Their eyes are like flames of fire, and roll in fearch of the
foes of the land. Their mighty hands are on their fwords ; and
lightning pours from their fides of fteel. They came like ftreams
from the mountains; each rufhed roaring from his hill. Bright are
the chiefs of battle in the armour of their fethers. Gloomy and
dark their heroes followed, like the gathering of the rainy clouds
behind the red meteors of heaven. The founds of crafliing arms
afcend. The gray dogs howl between. Unequally burfts the
fong of battle ; and rocking Cromla -f- echoes round. On Lena's
dufky heath they ftood, like mift ^ that fliades the hills of autumn :
when broken and dark it fettles high, and lifts its head to heaven.
Hail, faid Cuchullin, fons of the narrow, vales, hail ye hunters
of the deer. Another fport is drawing near : it is like the dark
rolling of that wave on the coaft. Or fliall we fight, ye fons of
• Cu-thon — the mournful fiund of waves. So when th' embattled clouds in dark
H^ f Crom-leach fignified a place of worfliip array,
among the Druids. It is here the proper Along the fkies their gloomy lines difplay ;
name of a hill on thecoaftof UllinorUlfler. The low hung vapours motionlefs and ftlU
X ^ap'iXr.mv toixoTt? aft K/i9nw Reft on the fummits of the fhaded liill.
Vr,vtfji,lniy f;>ic(v iir «xfC7roAoi(nvsf{ir(riv PcPE.
At^i/*«j, Hom. II. 5. V. 522.
war !
Book I. An E P I C P O E M. -5
war ! or yield green Innlsfail * to Lochlin ! O Connal -j- fpeak,
thou firft of men ! thou breaker of the fliields ! thou haft often fought
with Lochlin ; flialt thou lift up thy father's fpear-?
CucHULLiN ! calm the chief replied, the fpear of Connal is
keen. It delights to lliine in battle, and to mix with the blood of
thoufands. But tho' my hand is bent on war, my heart is for the
peace of Erin l- Behold, thou firft in Cormac's war, the fable fleet
pf Swaran. His mafts are as numerous on our coaft as reeds in the
lake of Lego. His ftiips are like forefts cloathed with mift, when
the trees yield by turns to the fqually wind. Many are his chiefs
in battle, Connal is for peace. Fingal would (hun his arm the
firft of mortal men : Fingal that fcatters the mighty, as ftormy
winds the heath ; when the ftreams roar thro' echoing Cona : and
night fettles with all her clouds on the hill.
Fly, thou chief of peace, faid Calmar || the fon of Matha j fly,
Connal, to thy filent hills, where the fpear of battle never fhoue;
* Ireland fo called fiom a colony that his name, were called Tir-chonnuil or Tir-
fettled there called Falans. — Innis-fail, /, connel, /. ^. the land of Connal.
/. the ifland of the Fa il or EaJans. % Erin, a name of Ireland; from ear
^f Connal, ;he friend of Cuchullin, was or wr Weft, and /« an ifland. This name
JrTiA- .''*Wie fon of Cathbiit prir.ce of the Ton- was not always confined to Ireland, for
gforma or the !/7i3«('/«/'Wtt<' wflCYf, probably there is the higheft probability that the
one of the Hebrides. Hi& mother was hme of the ancients was Britain to the
Fioncoma the daughter of Congal. He North of the Forth. — For leine is faid to
had a fon by Foba of Conachar-neflar, be to the North of Britain, which could
who was afterwards king of Ulfter. For not be meant of Ireland,
his fervices in the war againfl Swaran he Strabo, 1. 2. & 4. C.\saub 1. i-
had lands conferred on him, which, from | Culm er, ajlrong man,
purfue
6 F I N G A L, Book I.
purfue the dark-brown deer of Cromla : and ll:op with thine arrows
the bounding roes of Lena. But, blue-eyed fon of Semo, Cuchullin,
ruler of the war, fcatter thou the fons of Lochlin *, and roar thro' the
ranks of their pride. Let no veffel of the kingdom of Snow bound
on the dark-rolling waves of Inis-tore -f-.
O YE dark winds of Erin rife! and roar ye whirlwinds of the
heath ! Amidft the tempeft let me die, torn in a cloud by angry
ghofls of men ; amidft the tempeft let Calmar die, if ever chace
was fport to him fo much as the battle of fliields.
Calmar! flow replied the chief, I never fled, O Matha's fon.
I was fwift with my friends in battle, but fmall is the fame of Con-
nal. The battle was won in my prefence, and the valiant overcame.
But, fon of Semo, hear my voice, regard the ancient throne of
Cormac. Give wealth and half the land for peace, till Fingal come
with battle. Or, if war be thy choice, I lift the fword and fpear.
My joy fliall be in the midft of thoufands, and my foul brighten in
the gloom of the fight.
To me, Cuchullin replies, pleafant is the noife of arms : pleafant
as the thunder of heaven before the fliower of Spring. But gather
all the fliining tribes that I may view the fons of war. Let them
move along the heath, bright as the fun-fliine before a ftorm ; when
the weft wind collefts the clouds and the oaks of Morven eccho
along the {hove.
* The Galic name of Scandinavia in f Innis-tore, the rjland of ivhales, the
general ; in a more confined fenfe that of ancient name of the Orkney iflands.
the peninfula of Jutland.
But
BookL AnEPICPOEM. 7
But where are my friends in battle ? The companions of my
arm in danger ? Where art thou, white-bofom'd Cathbat ? Where is
that cloud in war, Duchomar * : and haft thou left me, O Fergus -j- !
in the day of the ftorm ? Fergus, firft in our joy at the feaft; fon
of RolTa ! arm of death ! comeft thou like a roe | from Malmor.
Like a hart from the ecchoing hills ? Hail thou fon of Roffa !
what fhades the foul of war ?
Four ftones ||, replied the chief, rife on the grave of Cathbat.
Thefe hands have laid in earth Duchomar, that cloud in war.
Cathbat, thou fon of Torman, thou wert a fun-beam on the hill.
And thou, O valiant Duchomar, like the mift of marfhy
Lano ; when it fails over the plains of autumn and brings death to
the people. Morna ! thou faireft of maids ! calm is thy fleep in
the cave of the rock. Thou haft fallen in darknefs like a ftar, that
flioots athwart the defart, when the traveller is alone, and mourns
the tranfient beam. Say, faid Semo's blue-eyed fon, fay how fell
the chiefs of Erin ? Fell they by the fons of Lochlin, ftrlvlng in
the battle of heroes ? Or what confines the chiefs of Cromla to the
dark and narrow houfe -j- ?
* Dubhchomar, a black uielljhaped nuin. and, If a warrior, his fvvord, and the heads
+ Fear-guth, — the man of the word; or of twelve arrows by his fide. Above they
a commander of an army. Jaid another ftratum of clay, in which they
X Be thou like a roe or young hart on placed the horn of a deer, the fymbol of
the mountains of Bether. hunting. The whole was covered with a
Solomon's Song. fine mold, and four ftones placed on end
(j This paflage alludes to the manner of to mark the extent of tlie grave. Thefc
burial among the ancient Sects. They are the four ftones alluded to here.
opened a grave fix or eight feet deep : the + The grave. The houfe appointed
bottom was lined with fine clay ; and on for all living. Job.
this they laid the body of the deceafed,
Cathbat,
g F I N G A L, Book I.
Cathbat, replied the hero, fell by the fword of Duchomar at
the oak of the noify ftreams. Duchomar came to Tura's cave, and
fpoke to the lovely Morna.
Morn A*, faireft among women, lovely daughter of Cormac-
cairbar. Why in the circle of ftones j in the cave of the rock alone?
The ftream murmurs hoarfely. The old tree's groan is in the
wind. The lake is troubled before thee, and dark are the clouds
of the fky. But thou art like fnow on the heath ; and thy hair
like the mift of Cromla ; when it curls on the rocks, and it fliines
to the beam of the well. Thy breafts are like two fmooth rocks
feen from Branno of the ilreams. Thy arms like two white pil-
lars in the halls of the mighty Fingal.
From whence, the white-armed maid replied, from whence,
Duchomar the moft gloomy of men ? Dark are thy brows and ter-
rible. Red are thy rolling eyes. Does Swaran appear on the fea ?
What of the foe, Duchomar ?
From the hill I return, O Morna, from the hill of the dark-
brown hinds. Three have I flain with my bended yew. Three
with my long bounding dogs of the chace. Lovely daughter of
Cormac, I love thee as my foul. 1 have flain one ftately deer for
thee. High was his branchy head ; and fleet his feet of wind.
DacHOMARJ calm the maid replied, I love thee not, thou gloomy
man. Hard is thy heart of rock, and dark thy terrible brow.
But Cathbat, thou fon of Torman -f-, thou art the love of Morna.
* Muirne or Morna, a weman bikvid \Tormzn, thunder. This is the true o;i-
ty all. gickof the Jupiter Taramis of the ancients.
2 Thou
Book I. A n E P I C P O E M. 9
Thou art like a fun-beam on the hill in the day of the gloomy
ftorm. Saweft thou the fon of Torman, lovely on the hill of his
hinds ? Here the daughter of Cormac waits the coming of Cathbat.
And long fliall Morna wait, Duchomar faid, his blood is on my
fword. — Long ihall Morna wait for him. He fell at Branno's ftream.
High on Cromla I will raife his tomb, daughter of Cormac-cairbar ;
but fix thy love on Duchomar, his arm is ftrong as a florm. —
And is the fon of Torman fallen ? faid the maid of the tearful eye.
Is he fallen on his ecchoing hill ; the youth with the breaft of fnow ? he
that was firft in the chace of the hill ; the foe of the ftrangers of the
ocean. Duchomar thou art dark * indeed, and cruel is thy arm to
Morna. But give me that fword, my foe; I love the blood of Caithbat.
He gave the fword to her tears ; but fhe pierced his manly breaft.
He fell, like the bank of a mountain-ftream ; ftretched out his arm
and faid;
Daughter of Cormac-cairbar, thou haft flain Duchomar. The
fword is cold in my breaft : Morna, I feel it cold. Give me to
Moina -f- the maid; Duchomar was the dream of her night. She
will raife my tomb ; and the hunter ftiall fee it and praife me. But
draw the fword from my breaft ; Morna, the fteel is cold.
She came, in all her tears, (he came, and drew it from his breaft.
He pierced her white fide with fteel ; and fpread her fair locks on
the ground. Her burfting blood founds from her fide : and her
white arm is ftained with red. Rolling in death (he lay and Tura's
cave anfwered to her fighs.
* She alludes to his name— //;^ dari \ yiolm, ftft in timf-cr and pcfin.
m..n,
C Peace,
10 F I N G A L, Book. L
Peace, faid Cuchullin, to the fcjls of the heroes j their deeds
were great in danger. Let them ride around * me on clouds ; and
Ihew their features of war : that my foul may be ftrong in danger;
my arm like the thunder of heaven. But be thou on a moon-
beam, O Morna, near the window of my reft ; when my thoughts
are of peace j and the din of arms is over. Gather the ftrength
of the tribes, and move to the Wars of Erin. — Attend the car of
my battles ; and rejoice in the noife of my courfe. Place three
ipears by my fide ; and follow the bounding of my fteeds. That
my foul may be ftrong in my friends, when the battle darkens round
the beams of my fteel.
As rufhes a ftream -f of foam from the dark fliady fteep of Cromla j
when the thunder is rolling above, and dark-brown night on half the
hill. So fierce, fo vaft, and fo terrible ruflied on the fons of Erin.
The chief like a whale of ocean, whom all his billows follow, poured
valour forth as a ftream, rolling his might along the fliore.
The fons of Lochlin heard the noife as the found of a winter-
ftream. Swaran ftruck his bofly fhield, and called the fon of Arno.
What murmur rolls along the hill like the gathered flies of evening r
* It was the opinion then, as indeed it As torrents roll encreas'd by nu.TiCrous
is to this da)', of fome of the highlanders, rills
that the fouls of the deceafed hovered With rage impetuous down the ecchoing
round their living friends j and fometimes hills ;
appeared to them when they were about Rufh to the vales, and pour'd along the
to enter on any great undertaking. plain,
f fi? i' oTE '/ji'ty.ull'ji T3-cT»jU(ii, y.XT RoHT thro' a thoufand channels to the
SfKT^j fio-.Tiq main. Pope.
E? Ixic-yUUiiai/ (j-u,uc«'aAjto> cSpijoiou jlut ubi decurfurapich di moniiiuialiis,
Wap, Dant fonkum fpumofi arnnts, U in aquora
J^DniiZv EX jUE^ssXwv (tsiArif {VroirSf yjx.- currunt,
fA^^r,^. Hc.V!, ^tiifque futim fofulatui iter, Virg.
The
Book I. An EPIC POEM.
ir
The fons of Innis-fail defcend, or ruilling winds * roar in the di-
ftant wood. Such is the noife of Gormal before tlie white tons of
my waves arife. O fon of Arno, afcend the hill and view the dark
face of the heath.
He went, and trembling, fwift returned. His eyes rolled wildly
round. His heart beat high againfi: his fide. His words were
faultering, broken, flow.
Rise, fon of ocean, rife chief of the dark-brown {hields. I fee
the dark, the mountain-ftream of the battle. The deep-moving
flrength of the fons of Erin. The car, the car of battle comes,
like the flame of death ; the rapid car of Cuchullin, the noble
fon of Semo. It bends behind like a wave near a rock ,• like the
golden mill of the heath. Its fides are emboffed vvith ilones, and
fparklelike the fea round the boat of night. Of poliflied yew is its
beam, and its feat of the fmootheft bone. The fides are repleniflied
with fpears ; and the bottom is the foot-ftool of heroes. Before
the right fide of the car is feen the fnorting horfe. The high-
maned, broad-breafted, proud, high-leaping ftrong fteed of the
hill. Loud and refounding is his hoof; the fpreading of his mane
above is like that flream offmoke on the heath. Bright are the
fides of the fteed, and his name is Sulin-Sifadda.
Before the left fide of the car is feen the fnOrting horfe. The
thin-maned, high-headed, ftrong-hooffed, fleet, bounding fon of
the hill : his name is Dufronnal among the ftormy fons of thefword.
A thoufand thongs bind the car on high. Hard poliflied bits
fhine in a wreath of foam. Thin thongs bright-fl:udded with gems,
bend on the ftately necks of the fteeds. The fteeds that like
wreaths of mill fly over the ftreamy vales. The wildnefs of deer
X As when the hollow rocks retain
The found of bluftering wind. Milton.
C 2 is
12 F I N G A L, BookL
is in their courfc, the ftrength of the eagle defcending on her prey.
Their noife is like the blaft of winter on the fides of the fnow-
headed Gormal.
Within the car is ieen the chief j the ftrong flormy Ion of
the fword ; the hero's name is Cuchullin, fon of Semo king of
fhells. His red cheek is like my poliflied yew. The look of his
blue-rolling eye is wide beneath the dark arch of his brow. His
hair fiies from his head like a flame, as bending forward he wields
the fpear. Fly, king of ocean, fly ; he comes, like a ftorm, along
the ftreamy vale.
When did I fly, replied the king, from the battle of many
fpears ? When did I fly, fon of Arno, chief of the little foul ? I
met the fl:orm of Gormal when the foam of my waves was high ; I
met the florm of the clouds and fliall I fly from a hero ? Were it
Fingal himfelf my foul fhould not darken before him. Rife to
the battle, my thoufands -, pour round me like the ecchoing main'.
Gather round the bright fteel of your king ; ftrong as the rocks of
xny land; that meet the florm with joy, and ftretch their dark woods
to the wind.
As autumn's* dark ftorms pour from two ecchoing hills, to-
wards each other approached the heroes. As two dark flreams
from high rocks meet, and mix and roar on the plain ; loud, rough
and dark in battle meet Lochlin and Innis-fail. Chief mixed his
firokes with chief, and man with man ; fteel, clanging, founded
en
* The re.der may compare this paflage To armour armour, lance to lance oppos'd,
With a fimiiar one in Homer. Iliad. 4. v. Hoft againft hoft, with fhadowy fquadrons
446. drew,
Now (hield with (hield, with helmet hel- The founding darts in iron tempefls flew j
met clos'd.
With.
Book r. A n E P I C P O E M. 13
on fteel, helmets are cleft on high. Blood burfts and fmoaks
around. Strings murmur on the poliOied yews. Darts rufh
along the fky. Spears fall like tlie circles of light that gild the
ftormy face of the night.
As the troubled noife of the ocean when roll the waves on high;
as the laft peal of the thunder of heaven, fuch is the nolle of battle.
Though Cormac's hundred bards were there to give the war to fong ;
feeble were the voices of a hundred bards to fend the deaths to future
times. For many were the falls of the heroes ; and wide poured
the blood of the valiant.
Mourn, ye fons of the fong, the death of the noble Sithallin*.
Let the lighs of Fiona rife on the dark heaths of her lovely
Ardan. They fell, like two hinds of the defart, by the hands of
the mighty Swaran ; when, in the midli of thouiands he roared ;
Lke the fhrill ipirit of a ftorm, that lits dim, on the clouds of Gor-
mal, and enjoys the death of the mariner.
Nor flept thy hand by thy fide, chief of the ifle of mift ■f; many
were the deaths of thine arm, CuchuUin, thou fon of Semo. His
fword was like the beam of heaven when it pierces the fons of the
vale I when the people are blafted and fall, and all the hills are
With ftreaming blood the flipp'ry fields Horrible difcord, and the madding wheels
are dy'd, Of brazen chariots rag'd, &c.
And flaughter'd heroes fwell the dreadful Milton.
tide. Pope. * Sithallin fignifies a hondfome man., —
Statius has very happily imitated Homer. Fiona, a fair maid; — and Ardan, pride.
Jam clypeus chpeis,umhcnerepdiiiur umbo., f The Ifle of Sky; not improperly cal-
Evfe minax enf.Sy pede pes, iff cufpide led the ij/e of mij?, as its high hills, which
cuj'pis, isfc. catch the clouds from the weftern ocean,
Arms on armour crafhing, bray'd occafion almoft continual rains.
8 burnine
J4 F I N G A L, Book I.
burning around. Dufronnul * Inorted over the bodies of heroes ;
and Sifadda '1^ bathed his hoof in blood. The battle lay behind
them as groves overturned on the defart of Crornlaj when the blafl
has pafled the heath laden with the fpirits of night.
Weep on the rocks of roaring winds, O maid of Inillore ;]:,
bend thy fair head over the waves, thou fairer than the ghoft of the
hills ; when it moves in a fun-beam at noon over the filence of
Morven. He is fallen ! thy youth is low ; pale beneath the fword
of Cuchullin. No more fliall valour raife the youth to match the
blood of kings. Trenar, lovely Trenar died, thou maid of Inif-
tore. His gray dogs are howling at home, and fee his pafllng
ghoft. His bow is in the hall unfcrung. No found is in the heath
of his hinds.
As roll a thoufand waves to the rocks, fo Swaran's hoft came on j
as meets a rock a thoufand waves, fo Inisfail met Swaran. Death
raifes all his voices around, and mixes with the found of fliields. —
Each hero is a pillar ofdarknefs, and the fword a beam ofnrein
his hand. The field ccchoes from wing to wing, as a hundred ham-
mers that rife by turns on the red fon of the furnace. Who are
thefe on Lena's heath that are fo gloomy and dark ? Who are thefe
* One of Cuchullin's horfes. Dubh- iiar are fenfible at home of the death of
ftron gheal. their niafler, the very inftant lie is killed.
-|- Silh-fadda, /. c. a h.ng ft^ide. It was the opinion of the times, that
% The maid cf hiijJue was the daughter the fouls of heroej went immediately after
of Gotlu king of Inlflore or Orkney iflands. death to the iiills cf their count:}-, and
Trenar was brother to the king of Inif- the fcenes they frequented the mod happy
con, fuppofed to be one of the iflands of time of their life. It was thought too that
Shetland. The Orkneys and Shetland dogs and horfes (aw the ghofts of the de-
were at that time fubje£t to the king of ceafed,
Lothlin. We find that the dogs of Tre-
like
Book I. A n E P I C P O E M. 15
like two clouds * and their fwords like lightning above them ? The
little hills are troubled around, and the rocks tremble with all their
mofs, Who is it but Ocean's fon and the car-borne chief of
Erin ? Many are the anxious eyes of their friends, as they fee them
dim on the heath. Now night conceals the chiefs in her clouds,
and ends the terrible fight. It was on Cromla's fbaggy fide that
Dorglas placed the deer -f- ; the early fortune of the chace, before
the heroes left the hill. A hundred youths coUedt the heath ;
ten heroes blow the fire ; three hundred chufe the poliHi'd flones.
The feall is fmoaking wide.
CucHULLiN, chief of Erin's war, refumed his mighty foul.
He flood upon his beamy fpear, and fpoke to the fon of fongs ; ta
Carril of other times, the gray-haired fon of Kinfena J. Is this
feaft fpread for me alone and the king of Lochlin on Ullin's fliore ;
far from the deer of his hills, and founding halls of his feafls i"
Rife, Carril of other times, and carry my words to Swaran ; tell
him from the roaring of waters, that CuchuUin gives his feaft.
Here let him liflen to the found of my groves amidft the clouds of
night, For cold and bleak the bluftering winds rufti over the
foam of his fcas. Here let him praife the trembling harp, and
hear the fongs of heroes.
* As when two black clouds heated with heath. Then they laid fome
With heaven's artillery fraught, come venifon in the bottom, and a ftratum of
rattling on the (tones above it ; and thus they did al-
Over the Cafpian. Milton. ternately till the pit was full. The whole
t The ancient manner of preparing was covered over with heath to confine the
feafts after hunting, is handed down by fteam. Whether this is probable I cannot
tradition. A pit lined with fmooth fay; but fome pits are fhewn, which ths
ftones was made; and near it ftood a heap vulgar fay, were ufed in that manner,
of fmooth flat ftones of the flint kind. % Cean-feana, /. e, the keadcftkepfepU'.
The ftones as well as the pit were properly
Ot3*
i6 F I N G A L, Book I.
Old Carril went, with foftefl; voice, and called the king of
dark-brown fliields. Rife from the fkins of thy chace, rife,
Swaran king of groves. CuchuUin gives the joy of fliells ; par-
take the feaft of Erin's blue-eyed chief. He anfwered like the
fallen found of Cromla before a ftorm. Though all thy daugh-
ters, Inisfail ! fliould extend their arms of fnow ; raife high the
heavings of tiieir breafts, and foftly roll their eyes of love j yet, fix-
ed as Lochlin's thoufand rocks, here Swaran fhall remain ; till
jnorn, with the young beams of my eaft, fliall light me to the
death of CuchuUin. Pleafant to my ear is Lochlin's wind. It rulhes
over my feas. It ipeaks aloft in all my flirowds, and brings my
green forefls to my mind ; the green forefts of Gormal that of-
ten ecchoed to my winds, when my fpear was red in the chace of
the boar. Let dark CuchuUin yield to me the ancient throne of
Cormac, or Erin's torrents fliall fhew from their hills the red foam
of the blood of his pride.
Sad is the founds of Swaran's voice, faid Carril of other times: —
Sad to himfelf alone, faid the blue-eyed fon of Scmo. But, Car-
ril, raife thy voice on high, and tell the deeds of other times. Send
thou the night away in fong ; and give the joy of grief. For many
heroes and maids of love, have moved on Inis-fail. And lovely are
the fongs of woe that are heard on Albion's rocks ; when the noife
of the chace is over, and the fcrcams of Cona anfwer to the voice
of Ollian *.
* Onian the fon of Fingal and author of fniall river that runs through Glenco in
the poem. One cannot but admire the ad- Argylcfljire. One of the hi'ls which en\iron
drefs of the poet in putting his own praife that romantic valley is flill called Scorna-
fo naturally into the mouth of CuchuUin. fena, or the hill of Fingal's people.
The Con; heie mentioned is peihajs that
In
Book I. A n E P I C P O E M. if.
In other days *, Carril replies, came the fons of Ocean to Erin. A
thoufand veflels bounded over the waves to Ullin's lovely plains.:
The fons of Inisfail arofe to meet the race of dark-brown fhields, '
Cairbar, firft of men, was there, and Grudar, {lately youth. Long
had they ftrove for the fpotted bull, that lowed on Golbun's -f- ec-
choing heath. Each claimed him as their own -, and death was of-
ten at the point of their fleel.
Side by fide the heroes fought, and the ftrangers of Ocean fled.
Whofe name was fairer on the hill than the name of Cairbar and
Griidar ! But ah ! why ever lowed the bull on Golbun's ecchoing
heath j they faw him leaping like the fnow. The wrath of the
chiefs returned.
On Lubar's ^ graffy banks they fought, and Grudar like a fun-
beam, fell. Fierce Cairbar came to the vale of the ecchoing Tura,
where Braflblisjl, faireft of his fifters, all alone, raifed the fong of
grief. She fung of the anions of Grudar, the youth of her fecret foul.
She mourned him in the field of blood ; but flill fhe hoped for
his return. Her white bofom is feen from her robe, as the moon
from the clouds of night. Her voice was fofter than the harp to
raife the fong of grief. Her foul was fixed on Grudar ; the fecret
look of her eye was his. — When flialt thou come in thine arms, thou
mighty in the w-ar ?
* This epifode is introduced with pro- find Calmar and Connal perfectly recon-
pricty. Calmar and Connal, two of the ciled in the third book.
Lifli heroes, had difputed warmly before t Golb-bhcan, as well as Cromleach,
the battle about engaging the enemy. Car- fignifies a crcoked hill.
ril endeavours to reconcile them with the J Lubar — a river in Ulfter. Labhar,
ftory of Cairbar and Gradar; who, tho' loud, noify. . - •
enemies before, fought yJ^^ by fide in the || Braflblis fignifies (7 w"ot«/; w/V; « u'/j//^ '•
war. The poet obtained his aim, for we hrenj}.
D Take,
,8 F I N G A L, Book I.
Take, BrafTolis, Cairbar came and faid, take, Braflblis, this
fhield of blood. Fix it on high within my hall, the armour of my
foe. Her foft heart beat againfl her fide. Diftradled, pale, flie
flew. She found her youth in all his blood ; flie died on Cromla's
heath. Here refts their duft, Cuchullin ; and thefe two lonely yews
fprung from their tombs, and wifli to meet on high. Fair was
Braffolis on the plain, and Grudar on the hill. The bard fliall pre-
ferve theirnames, and repeat them to future times.
Pleasant is thy voice, O Carril, faid the blue-eyed chief of
Erin ; and lovely are the words of other times. They are like the
calm fliower * of fpring ; when the fun looks on the field, and the
light cloud flies over the hills. O flrike the harp in praife of my
love, the lonely fun-beam of Dunfcaich. Strike the harp in the
praife of Bragela ; flie that I left in the Ifle of Mift, the fpoufe of
Semo's fon. Doft thou raife thy fair face from the rock to find
the fails of Cuchullin ? The fea is rolling far difl:ant, and its
\vhite foam fliall deceive thee for my fails. Retire, for it is night,
my love, and the dark winds figh in thy hair. Retire to the halls
of my feafts, and think of the times that are pafl: : for I will not
return till the ftorm of war is ceafed. O Connal, fpeak of wars
and arms, and fend her from my mind, for lovely with her raven-
hair is the white-bofomed daughter of Sorglan.
Connal, flow to fpeak, replied, guard againfl: the race of ocean.
Send thy troop of night abroad, and watch the ftrength of Swaran.—
Cuchullin ! I am for peace till the race of the defart come ; till Fingal
come, the firfl of men, and beam, like the fun, on our fields.
* Homer compares foft piercing words to But when hefpeaks, what elocution flows !
the fall of fnow. Like the foft fleeces of defcending fnows.
— £T£j; )i\(f«,St7<nv tsi)tOT« p^^uaf^iWii* Pope.
The
Book I.
An epic poem.
19
The hero flruck the fliield of his alarms — the warriors of the
nio-ht moved on. The reft lay in the heath of the deer, and flept
amidll the dufky wind. The ghofts * of the lately dead were
near, and fwam on gloomy clouds. And far diftant, in the dark
filence of Lena, the feeble voices of death were heard.
* It was long the opinion of the ancient furrounds twice or thrice the place defined
Scots, that a ghoft was heard (hrieking for the perfon to die ; and then goes along
near the place where a death was to hap- the road through which the funeral is to
pen foon after. The accounts given, to pafs, (hrieking at intervals ; at laft, the
this day, among the vulgar, of this extraor- meteor and ghoft difappear above the burial
dinary matter, are very poetical. The place,
ghoft comes mounted on a meteor, and
D 2
FINGAL,
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIENT
EPIC POEM.
BOOK II.
CONNAL * lay by the found of the mountain ftream, beneath
the aged tree. A ftone, with its mofs, fupported his head.
Shrill thro' the heath of Lena, he heard the voice of night. At diftance
from the heroes he lay, for the fon of the fword feared no foe.
My
* The fcene of Connal's repofe is fami- When lo ! the fhade, before his clof-
liar to thofe who have been in the high- ing eyes,
lands of Scotland. The poet removes him Of fad Patroclus rofe or feem'd to rife,
to a diftance from the army, to add more In the fame robe he living wore, became
horror to the defeription of Crugal's ghoft In flature, voice, and pleafing look the
by the lonelinefs of the place. It perhaps fame.
will not be difagreeable to the reader, to The form familiar hover'd o'er his head,
fee how two other ancient poets handled And fleeps Achilles thus ? the phantom
a fimilar fubjedt. faid. Pope.
Hxfll S" £7r» ^uyj^ rTaVpoxXros SuKoTo In fomnis ecce ante o:uks ma/iijjl?nus HeSior
Tlxvr auTu f*£j';6«; ri xai ojtAasTOs xar Vijui uddejji mihi, largofque effundere JietuSy
Eixur* Raptatui iigis, aut quondam, aUrqus cruento
Xdei ^oiri-j &c. HoM, III 23. Pitlvere perque pedes trajeiiui loratumentis.
Hel
I N
L,
Book IL
Mv hero fiiw In his reft a dark-red ftream of fire coming down
from the hill. Criigal fat upon the beam, a chief that lately fell. He
fell by the hand of Swaran, driving in the battle of heroes. His
face is like the beam of the fetting moon ; his robes are of the clouds
of the hill : his eyes are like two decaying flames. Dark is the
wound of his breafl,
Grugal, faid the mighty Connal, fon of Dedgal famed on the
hill of deer. Why fo pale and fad, thou breaker of the fliields ?
Thou haft never been pale for fear. What difturbs the fon of
the hill .?
Dim, and in tears, he ftood and ftretched his pale hand over the
hero. Faintly he raifed his feeble voice, like the gale of the
reedy Lego.
My 8;hoiT:, O Connal, is oji my native hills ; but my corfe Is on the
fands of Ullin. Thou flialt never talk with Crugal, or find his lone
He'i mlh't qualis erat ! quanlum miitatus ab illo
Jliiiorey qui redit (xuvlis indittus Jchilli,
I'd Danailm Phrygiosjaculatuspuppibus ignis ;
Squalen tern bar bam y concretes fan guine crinis
Vulnerajue ilia gcrens qua circum plurima
mures
Jiic:fit patrios. .'En. lib. 2.
When Hedor's ghoft before my fight
appears :
A bloody (hrowd he feem'd, and bath'd
in tears.
Such as he was, when, by Pelides flain,
ThefTalian courfersdrag'd him o'er the plain.
4
Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs
were thruft
Through the bor'd holes, his body black
with duft.
Unlike that Heclor, who returo'd from toils
Of war triumphant, in yEacian fpoils :
Or him, who made the fainting Greeks
retire.
And launch'd againft their navy Phrygian
fire.
His hair and beard ftood ftiffen'd with his
gore;
And all the wounds he for his country bore.
Drvde.v.
fteps
Book IL An E P I C P O E M. 23
fteps in the heath. I am light as the blaft of Cromla, and I move
like the fliadow of mift. Connal, fon of Colgar, I fee the dark
cloud of death : it hovers over the plains of Lena. The fons of
green Erin fhall fall. Remove from the field of ghofts. -Like
the darkened moon * he retired, in the midft of the whi filing blaft.
Stay, faid the mighty Connal, ftay my dark-red friend. Lay by
that beam of heaven, fon of the windy Cromla. What cave of
the hill is thy lonely houfe ? What green-headed hill is the place of
thy refl ? Shall we not hear thee in the ftorm ? In the noife of the
mountaln-flream ? When the feeble fons of the wind come forth,
and ride on the blaft of the defart.
The foft-voiced Connal rofe in the midlt of his founding arms.
He ftruck his fhield above Cuchullin. The fon of battle waked.
Why, faid the ruler of the car, conies Connal through my
night ? My fpear might turn againft the found ; and Cuchullin
mourn the death of his friend. Speak, Connal, fan of Colgar, fpeak,
thy counfel is like the fun of heaven.
Son ofSemo, replied the chief, the ghoft of Crugal came from
the cave of his hill. The flars dim-twinkled through his form ;
and his voice was like the found of a diflant ftream. He is a
meffenger of death. He fpeaks of the dark and narrow houfe.
Sue for peace, O chief of Dunlcaich ; or fly over the heath of
Lena.
He fpoke to Connal, replied the hero, though ftars dim-twinkled
through his form. Son of Colgar, it was the wind that murmured
* '^'^X^ ^^ "^-^^ X,''''') ^''^Tf "aTTtoj Like a thin fmoke he fees the fpirit fly,
ilX"* Tnctyj7» And hears a feeble, lamentable cry.
HoM. II. 23. V. ICO. Pope,
24; F 1 N G A L, Book IL
in the caves of Lena. Or if it was the form * of Crugal, why
didlt thou not force him to my fight. Hail: thou enquired where is
his cave ? The houfe of the fon of the wind ? My fword might find
that voice, and force his knowledge from him. And fmall is
his knowledge, Connal, for he was here to day. He could not
have gone beyond our hills, and who could tell him there of our
death ?
Ghosts fly on clouds and ride on winds, faid Connal's voice of
wifdom. They reft together in their caves, and talk of mortal men.
Then let them talk of mortal men j of every man but Erin's
chief. Let me be forgot in their cave ; for I will not fly from
Swaran. If I muft fall, my tomb iliall rife amidft the fame of
future times. The hunter fliall flied a tear on my fl:one ; and forrow
dwell round the high-bofomed Bragela. I fear not death, but I
fear to fly, for Fingal faw me often viftorious. Thou dim phantom
of the hill, fliew thyfelf to me ! come on thy beam of heaven, and
fliew me my death in thine hand, yet I will not fly, thou feeble fon
of the wind. Go, fon of Colgar, ftrike the fhield of Caithbat, it
hangs between the fpears. Let my heroes rife to the found in the
midft of the battles of Erin. Though Fingal delays his coming
with the race of the ftormy hills ; we fliall fight, O Colgar's fon,
and die in the battle of heroes.
The found fpreads wide ; the heroes rife, like the breaking of a
blue-rolling wave. They flood on the heath, like oaks with all
* The poet teaches us the opinions that through the form of Crugal," and Cu-
prevailed in liis time concerning the (late chullin's reply, we may gather that they
of feparate fouls. From Connal's ex- both thought the foul was material j fome-
prcffion, " That the ftars dim-twinklcJ thing like the .M^wAfi/ of the ancient Greeks.
I their
Book IL A n E P I C P O E M. 25
their branches round them * ; when they eccho to the ftream of froft,
and their withered leaves ruille to the wind.
High Cromla's head of clouds is gray; the morning trembles
on the half-enlightened ocean. The blue, gray mift fwims (lowly
by, and hides the fons of Inis-fail.
Rise ye, faid the king of the dark-brown fliields, ye that came
from Lochlin's waves. The fons of Erin have fled from our arms
— purfuc them over the plains of Lena. And, Morla, go to
Cormac's hall and bid them yield to Swaran; before the people {hall
fall into the tomb; and the hills of Ullin be filent. They rofe
like a flock of fea-fowl when the waves expel them from the Hiore.
Their found was like a thoufand fl:reams that meet in Cona's vale,
when after a fl:ormy night, they turn their dark eddies beneath the
pale light of the morning.
As the dark fliades of autumn fly over the hills of grafs ; fo gloo-
my, dark, fucceflive came the chiefs of Lochlin's ecchoing woods.
Tall as the ftag of Morven moved on the king of groves. His fhin-
ing flaield is on his fide like a flame on the heath at night. When
the world is filent and dark, and the traveller fees fome ghofl: fport-
ing in the beam.
A BLAST from the trouble of ocean removed the fettled mifl.
The fons of Inisfail appear like a ridge of rocks on the fliore.
* ■ As when heaven's fire With finged tops, their ftately growth
Hath fcath'd the foreft oak;, or mountain the' bare
pines Stand on the blafted heath, Milton-.
E Go,
26 F I N G A L, Book II.
Go, Moria, go, faid Lochlin's king, and offer peace to thefe.
Offer the terms we give to kings when nations bow before us.
When the valiant are dead in war, and the virgins weeping on
the fieldw
Great Morla came, the fon of Swart, and ffately ffrode the king
of fliields. He fpoke to Erin's blue-eyed fon, among the leffer
heroes.
Take Swaran's peace, the warrior fpoke, the peace he gives to
kings when the nations bow before him. Leave Ullin's lovely plains
to us, and give thy fpoufe and dog. Thy fpoufe high-bofom'd, heav-
ing fair. Thy dog that overtakes the wind. Give thefe to prove
the weaknefs of thine arm, and live beneatli our power.
Tell Swaran, tell that heart of pride, that Cuchullin never
yields. 1 give him the dark-blue rolling of ocean, or I give his
people graves in Erin. But never fliall a fl ranger have the lovely
fun-beam of Dunfcaich ; or ever deer fly on Lochlin's hills before
the nimble-footed Luiith.
Vain ruler of the car, faid Morla, wilt thou fight the kingj that
king whofe fhips of many groves could carry off thine lile ? So little
is thy green-hilled Ullin to the king of ftormy waves.
In words I yield to many, Morla ; but this fword ihall yield to
none. Erin fhall own the fway of Cormac, while Connal and Cu-
chullin live. O Connal, firft of mighty men, thou haft heard the
words of Morla ; ihall thy thoughts then be of peace, thou breaker
of the fliields ? Spirit of fallen Crugal ! why didft thou threaten us
V/ith death ? Thy narrow houfe fliall receive me in the midft of the
A light
BookIL An E P I C P O E M. 27
1 ight of renown. Exalt, ye fons of Inisfail, exalt the fpear and bend
the bow ; rufli on the foe in darknefs, as the fpirits of ftormy nights.
Then difmal, roaring, fierce, and deep the gloom of battle rolled
along ; as mift * that is poured on the valley, when florms invade
the filent fun-fhine of heaven. The chief moves before in arms,
like an angry ghoft before a cloud ; when meteors inclofe him with
fire ; and the dark winds are in his hand. Carril, far on the
heath, bids the horn of battle found. He raifes the voice of the fong*
and pours his foul into the minds of heroes.
Where, faid the mouth of the fong, where is the fallen Crugal ?
He lies forgot on earth, and the hall of fhells -f is filent. Sad is
the fpoufe of Crugal, for flie is a ftranger J in the hall of her forrow.
But who is fhe, that, like a fun-beam, flies before the ranks of the
foe? It is Degrena ||, lovely fair, the Ipoufe of fiillen Crugal. Her
hair is on the wind behind. Her eye is red; her voice is fliril!.
Green, empty is thy Crugal now, his form is in the cave of the hill.
He comes to the ear of reft, and raifes his feeble voice ; like the
humming of the mountain -bee, or coUedled flies of evening. But
Degrena falls like a cloud of the morn ; the fword of Lochlin is in
her fide. Cairbar, fhe is fallen, the rifing thought of thy youth.
She is fallen, O Cairbar, the thought of thy youthful hours.
Fierce Cairbar heard the mournful found, and ruflied on like
ocean's whale j he faw the death of his daughter ; and roared in the
* As evening mift is that we fo often meet, in the old poetry,
Ris'n from a river o'er the marifh glides with the chief of Jhclh, and the halls ofjhel/s.
And gathers round faft at the lab'rers % Crugal had married Degrena but a
heel little time before the battle, confequently
Homeward returning Milton. flie may with propriety be called a ftranger
t The ancient Scot>-, at well as the pre- in the hall of her forrow.
fent Highlanders, d»unk in fliells; hence it || Deo-ghrena fignifies a fun-hsam.
E 3 midft
28 F I N G A L, Book ir,
midft of thoufands *. His fpear met a fon of Lochlln, and battle
fpread from wing to wing. As a hundred winds in Lochlin's groves,
as fire in the firs of a hundred hills j fo loud, fo ruinous and vaft
the ranks of men are hewn down. CuchuUin cut off heroes like
thirties, and Swaran wafted Erin. Curach fell by his hand, and Cair-
bar of the boil'y Ihield. Morglan lies in lafting reft ; and Ca-olt
trembles as he dies. His white breaft is ftained with his blood }
and his yellow hair ftretched in the duft of liis native land. He
often had fpread the feaft where he fell ; and often niifed the voice
of the harp : when his dogs leapt around for joy ; and the youths of
the chace prepared the bow.
Still Swaran advanced, as a ftream that burfts from the defart.
The little hills are rolled in its courfe 3 and the rocks half-funk by
its fide.
But Cuchullin ftcod before him like a hill -f-, that catches the
clouds of heaven. The winds contend on its head of pines ; and
the hail rattles on its rocks. But, firm in its ftrength, it ftands and
Ihades the filent vale of Cona.
So Cuchullin ll:iaded the Tons of Erin, and ftood in the midft of
thoufands. Blood rifes like the fount of a rock, from panting heroes
* Midiifque in millibus ariL't. Vip.g. Like Eryx or like Athos great he fhews
f Virgil and Milton have made ufe of a Or father Appenine when white with fnowsj
comparifon fimilar to this ; I fhall lay both His head divine obfcure in cloudsihe hides,
before the reader, and let him judge for And fhakej the founding forefl on his fides.
himfelf which of thefe two great poet, have Dryden.
beft fuccceded. On th' other fide Satan alarm'd,
^lan.ui Aih:s, au! quar.ius Er\x, aut ipfe Collefting all his might, dilated ftood
co>ufcisy Like TcnerifFor Alias unreniov"d :
Cum/tifr.if iiiciius, qtiantusgaudeiquerivaH His ftatuie reach'd the fky.
Vdtlic fe attoUeas pater Jppeninus adaurau Miltov.
3 around
Book II. A n E P I C P O E M. 29
around him. But Erin falls on eitlier wing like fnovv In the day
of the fun.
O SONS of Inisfail, faid Grumal, Lochlin conquers on the field.
Why ftrive we as reeds againfl the wind ? Fly to the hill of dark-
brown hinds. He fled like the flag of Morven, and his fpear is a
trembling beam of light behind him. Few fled with Grumal, the
chief of the little foul : they fell in the battle of heroes on Lena's
ecchoing heath.
High on his car, of many gems, the chief of Erin flood ; he flew
a mighty fon of Lochlin, and fpoke, in hafl:e, to Connal.
O Connal, firfl of mortal men, thou hafl: taught this arm of
death ! Though Erin's fons have fled, fhall we not fight the foe ?
O Carril, fon of other times, carry my living friends to that bufliy
hill. Here, Connal, let us iland like rocks, and five our flying
friends.
Connal mounts the car of light. They flretch their Ihields
like the darkened moon, the daughter of the fiarry ikies, when fhe
moves, a dun circle, through heaven. Sithfadda panted up the hill,
and Stronnal haughty fteed. Like waves behind a whale behind
them rufhed the foe.
Now on the riling fide of Cromia flood Erin's few fad fons ; like
a grove through which the flame had ruflied hurried en by the
winds of the flormy night. CuchuUin flood befide an oak. He
rolled his red eye in filence, and heard the wind in his bufhy hair ;
when the fcout of ocean came, Moran the fon of Fithil. Tiie
fhips, he cried, the fliips of the lonely ille ! There Fingal comes
the
30 F I N G A L, Book IL
the firfl: of men, the breaker of the fliields. The waves foam be-
fore his black prows. His marts with fails are like groves in clouds.
Blow, fud Cuchullin, all ye winds that rufli over my ifle of
lovely miil:. Come to the death of thoufands, O chief of the hills
of hinds. Thy fails, my friend, are to me like the clouds of
the morning ; and thy fliips like the light of heaven; and thou thy-
felf like a pillar of fire that giveth light in the night. O Connal,
firft of men, how pleafant are our friends ! But the night is gather-
ing around ; where now are the fliips of Fingal ? Here let us pafs
the hours of darknefs, and wifli for the moon of heaven.
The winds came down on the woods. The torrents ruflied
from the rocks. Rain gathered round the head of Cromla. And
the red ftars trembled between the flying clouds. Sad, by the fide
of a fi:ream whofe found was ecchoed by a tree, fad by tlie fide of a
flream the chief of Erin fat. Connal fon of Colgar was there, and
Carril of other times.
Unhappy is the hand of Cuchullin, faid the fon of Semo, un-
happy is the hand of Cuchullin fince he flew his friend. Fcrda,
thou fon of Damman, I loved thee as myfelf.
How, Cuchullin, fon of Semo, fell the breaker of the fhields ?
Well I remember, fiid Connal, the noble fon of Damman. Tall
and fair he was like the rain-bow of the hill.
Ferda from Albion came, the chief of a hundred hills. In
Muri's * hall he learned the fword, and won the friendfliip of Cu-
chullin. We moved to the chace together; and one was bur bed in
the heath.
* An academy in Ulfter for teaching the ufe of arms.
Deugala
Book II. AnEPICPOEM. 31
Deugala was the fpoufe of Cairbar, chief of the plains of
Ullin. She was covered with the light of beauty, but her heart
was the houfe of pride. She loved that fun-beam of youth, the
noble fon of Damman. Cairbar, faid the white-armed woman,
give me half of the herd. No more I will remain in your halls.
Divide the herd, dark Cairbar.
Let Cuchullin faid Cairbar, divide my herd on the hill. His
breaft is the feat of juftice. Depart, thou light of beauty. I went
and divided the herd. One bull of fnow remained. I gave that
bull to Cairbar. The wrath of Deugala rofe.
Son of Damman, begun the fair, Cuchullin pains my foul. I
mufl hear of his death, or Lubar's ftream fhall roll over me. My
pale ghoft fl:all wander near thee, and mourn the wound of my
pride. Pour out the blood of Cuchullin or pierce this heaving breaft.
Deugala, faid the fair-haired youth, how Ihall I flay the fon
of Semo ? He is the friend of my fecret thoughts, and fliall I lift
the fword ? She wept three days before him, on the fourth he con-
fented to fight.
I WILL fight my friend, Deugala! but may I fall by his fword.
Could I wander on the hill and behold the grave of Cuchullin ? We
fought on the hills of Muri. Our fwords avoid a wound. They
Aide on the helmets of fteel ; and found on the flippery fliields. Deu-
gala was near with a fmile, and faid to the fon of Damman, thine
arm is feeble, thou fun-beam of youth. Thy years are not ftrong
for fteel. Yield to the fon of Semo. He is like the rock of
Malmor,
The-
32 F I N G A L, Book II.
The tear is in the eye of youth. He faultering faid to me, Cu-
chullin, raife thy bofly ftiield. Defend thee from the hand of thy
friend. My foul is laden with grief: for I muft flay the chief
of men.
I SIGHED as the wind in the chink of a rock. I lifted high the
edge of my fleel. The fun-beam of the battle fell; the firfl of
Cuchullin's friends. ■
Unhappy is the hand of Cuchullin fince the hero fell.
Mournful is thy tale, fon of the car, faid Carril of other times.
It fends my foul back to the ages of old, and to the days of other
years. Often have I heard of Comal who flew the friend he lov-
ed ; yet vidlory attended his fl;eel ; and the battle was confumed in
his prefence.
Comal was a fon of Albion ; the chief of an hundred hills. His
deer drunk of a thouland flreams. A thoufand rocks replied to the
voice of his dogs. His face was the mildnefs of youth. His hand
the death of heroes. One was his love, and fair was flie ! the
daughter of mighty Conloch. She appeared like a fun-beam among
women. And her hair was like the wing of the raven. Her dogs
were taught to the chace. Her bow-iT:ring founded on the winds
of the foreft. Her foul was fixed on Comal. Often met their eyes
of love. Their courfe in the chace ^vas one, and happy were their
words in fecret. But Gormal lo\'ed the maid, the dark chief of
the gloomy Ardven. He watched her lone fleps in the heath ; the
foe of unhappy Comal.
One
Book II. An E P I C P O E M. 33
One day, tired of the chace, when the mlft had concealed their
friends, Comal and the daughter of Conloch met in the cave of Ro-
nan *. It was the wonted haunt of Comal. Its fides were hung with
his arms. A hundred fliields of thongs were there j a hundred
helms of founding fteel.
Rest here, he faid, my love Galvina^ thou light of the cave of
Ronan. A deer appears on Mora's brow. I go j but I will foon return,
I fear, flie faid, dark Grumal my foe ; he haunts the cave of Ronaw,
I will reft among the arms ; but foon return, my love.
He went to the deer of Mora. The daughter of Conloch would
try his love. She cloathed her white fides with his armour, and
flrode from the cave of Ronan. He thought it was his foe. His
heart beat high. His colour changed, and darknefs dimmed his
eyes. He drew the bow. The arrow flew. Galvina fell in blood.
He run with vvildnefs in his fteps and called the daughter of Con-
loch. No anfwer in the lonely rock. Where are thou, O my love !
He faw, at length, her heaving heart beating around the arrow he
threw. O Conloch's daughter, is it thou ? He funk upon her breafi:.
*
The hunters found the haplefs pairj he afterwards walked the
hill. But many and filent were his fteps round the dark dwelling of
* The unfortunate death of this Ronan is tioiiofthu poet. — Many poems go under
the fubje(n of the ninth fragment of an- his name that have been evidently com-
cicnt poetry publilhed lad year : it is not pofed fmce his time; they are very nu-
the work of Oflian, though it is writ in merous in Ireland, and fome have com^to
his manner, and bears the genuine maiks tlie tranflator's hands. They are trivial and
of antiquity. — The concife expreflions of dull to the laft degree; fwelling into ridi-
Offian are imitated, but the thoughts are culous bombaft, or finking into the lov.efi:
too jejune and confined to be the produc- kind of profaic Tiyle.
F his
34 F I N G A L, Book II,
his love. The fleet of the ocean came. He fought, the Grangers
fled. He fearched for his death over the field. But who could kill
the mighty Comal ! He threw away his dark-brown fliield. An
arrow found his manly breafl. He fleeps with his loved Galvina at
the noife of the founding furge. Their green tombs are feen by the
jnariner, when he bounds on the waves of the north.
FINGAL,
( 15 )
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIENT
EPIC POEM.
BOOK III*.
PLEASANT are the words of the fong, faid Cuchullin, and
lovely are the tales of other times. They are like the calm
dew of the morning on the hill of roes, when the fun is faint on
its fide, and the lake is fettled and blue in the vale. O Carrll, ralfe
again thy voice, and let me hear the fong of Tura : which was fung
in my halls of joy, when Fingal king of fhlelds was there, and
glowed at the deeds of his fathers.
Fingal! thou man of battle, faid Carril, early were thy deeds
in arms. Lochlin was confumed in thy wrath, when thy youth
ftrove with the beauty of maids. They fmiled at the fair-blooming
face of the hero j but death was in his hands. lie was ftrong as
* The fecond night, fince the opening ftory of Agandecca is introduced here with
of the poem, continues; and Cuchullin, propriety, as great ufe is made of it in the
Connal, and Carril ftill fit in the place courfe of the poem, and as it, in fonac
defcnbed in the preceding book. The meafure, brings about the cataflrophe,
F 2 the
36 F I N G A L, Book III.
the %vnter<5 of Lora. His followers were like the roar of a thoufand
rtreams. They took the king of Lochlin in battle, but reftored him
to his fliips. His big heart fwelled with pride ; and the death of
the youth was dark in his foul. For none ever, but Fingal, over-
came the ftrength of the mighty Starno *.
He fat in the hall of his fhells in Lochlin's woody land. He
called the gray-haired Snivan, that often fung round the circle -f- of
Loda : when the flone of power heard his cry, and the battle turned
in the field of the valiant.
Go J gray-haired Snivan, Starno faid, to Ardven's fea-furrounded
rocks. Tell to Fingal king of the defart ; he that is the faireft
among his thoufands, tell him I give him my daughter, the lovelieft
maid that ever heaved a breafl of fnow. Her arms are white as the
foam of my waves. Her foul is generous and miJd. Let him come
with his braveft heroes to the daughter of the fecret hall.
Snivan came to Albion's windy hills : and fair-haired Fingal
went. His kindled foul flew before him as he bounded on the
waves of the north.
Welcome, faid the dark-brown Starno, welcome, king of rocky
Morven ; and ye his heroes of might ; fons of the lonely ifle ! Three
days within my halls fhall ye feaft ; and three days purfue my boars,
that your fame may reach the maid that dwells in the fecret hall.
* Starno was the father of Swaran as f This paffage moft certainly alludes to
well as Agandecca. His fierce and cruel the religion of Lochlin, and th Jlone of
characler is well marked in other poems ^'-w-.r here mentioned is the image of one
concerning the times. of the deities of Scandanavia.
V The
Book III. An EPIC P O E M. 37
The king of fnow * dellgncd their death, and gave the feaft of
fhells. Fingal, who doubted the foe, kept on hisarms of fteel. The
fons of death were afraid, and fled from the eyes of the hero. The
voice of fprightly mirth arofe. The trembhng harps of joy are
flrung. Bards fing the battle of heroes; or the heaving breaft of
love. UlHn, Fingal's bard, was there; the fweet voice of the
hill of Cona. He praifed the daughter of the fnow ; and Morven's -f-
high-defcended chief. The daughter of the fnow overheard, and
left the hall of her fecret figh. She came in all her beauty, like the
moon from the cloud of the eaft. Lovelinefs was around her as
light. Her fteps were like the mulic of fongs. She faw the youth
and loved him. He was the Itolen figh of her foul. Her blue
eye rolled on him in fecret: and flie bleft the chief of Morven.
The third day with all its beams, fhone bright on the wood of
boars. Forth moved the dark-browed Starno ; and Fingal, king of
fhields. Half the day they fpent in the chace ; and the fpear of
Fingal was red in the blood of Gormal,
It was then the daughter of Starno, with blue eyes rolling in
tears, came with her voice of love and fpoke to the king of Morven.
Fingal, high-defcended chief, truft not Starno's heart of pride.
Within that wood he has placed his chiefs ; beware of the wood
of death. But, remember, fon of the hill, remember Agan-
decca : fave me from the wrath of my father, king of the v/indy
Morven !
* Starno is here poetically called the king f All the North- weft coaft of Scotland
of fnow, from the great quantities of fnow probably went of old under the name of Mor-
that fall in his dominions. ven, which figniRes a ridge of very high hill;.-
4 • The
38 F I N G A L, Book III.
The youth, with unconcern, went on; his heroes by his fide.
The fons of death fell by his hand ; and Gormal ecchoed around.
Before the halls of Starno the fons of the chace convened. The
king's dark brows were like clouds. His eyes like meteors of night.
Bring hither, he cries, Agandecca to her lovely king of Morven.
His hand is ftained with the blood of my people 3 and her words
have not been in vain.
She came with the red eye of tears. She came with her loofe
raven locks. Her white breaft heaved with fighs, like tlie foam of
the ftreamy Lubar. Starno pierced her fide with fleel. She fell
like a wreath of fnow that Aides from the rocks of Ronan ; ^\■hcn
the woods are iTiill, and the eccho deepens in the vale.
Then Fingal eyed his valiant chiefs, his valiant chiefs took arms.
The gloom of the battle roared, and Lochlin fled or died. Pale,
in his bounding fliip he clofed the maid of the raven hair. Her
tomb afcends on Ardven, and the fea roars round the dark dwelling
of Agandecca.
Blessed be her foul, faid Cuchullin, and bleffed be the mouth
of the fong. Strong was the youth of Fingal, and ftrong is his
arm oi age. Lochlin iliall fall again before the king of ecchoing
Morven. Sliew thy face from a cloud, O moon ; light his white
fails on the wave of the night. And if any ftrong fpirit * of heaven
* This is the only paflage in the poem a fuperior being, or the ghofls of deceafed
that has the appearance of religion. — But warrior?, who were fuppofed in thofe times
Cuchullin's apoftrophe to this fpirit is ac- to rule the ftorms, and to tranfport them-
companied with a doubt ; fo that it is not felves in a guft of wind from one country
eXy to determine whether the hero meant to another.
X fits
Book III. A n E P I C P O E M- 39
fits on that low-hung cloud ; turn his dark fhips from the rock,
tliou rider of the florm !
Such were the words of Cuchullin at the found of the mountain-
ftream, when Calmar afcended the hill, the wounded fon of Matha,
From the field he came in his blood. He leaned on his bending
fpear. Feeble is the arm of battle ! but ftrong the foul of the hero !
Welcome ! O fon of Matha, faid Connal, welcome art thou to
thy friends ! Why burfls that broken figh from the breaft of him
that never feared before ?
And never, Connal, will he fear, chief of the pointed fteel. My
foul brightens in danger, and exults in the noife of battle. I am of
the race of fteel ; my fathers never feared.
CoRMAR was the firfl of my race. He fported through the
ftorms of the waves. His black fkiff bounded on ocean, and travel-
led on the wings of the blaft. A fpirit once embroiled the night.
Seas fwell and rocks refound. Winds drive along the clouds. The
lightning flies on wings of fire. He feared and came to land : then
bluflied that he feared at all. He rufhed again among the waves to
find the fon of the wind. Three youths guide the bounding bark ;
he flood with the fword unflieathed. When the low-hung vapour
paffed, he took it by the curling head, and fearched its dark womb
with his fleel. The fon of the wind forfook the air. The moon
and flars returned.
Such was the boldnefs of my race ; and Calmar is like his fa-
thers. Danger flies from the uplifted fword. They beft fucceed
who dare.
But
40 ^^F I N G A L, Book III.
But now, ye fons of green-vallyed Erin, retire from Lena's
bloody heath. Colled the lad remnant of our friends, and join the
fword of Fingal. I heard the found of Lochlin's advancing arms ;
but Calmar will remain and fight. My voice fliall be fuch, my
friends, as if thoufands were behind me. But, fon of Senio, re-
member me. Remember Calmar's lifelefs corfe. After Fingal has
wafted the field, place me by fome ftone of remembrance, that fu-
ture times may hear my fame ; and the mother of Calmar rejoice
ever the ftone of my renov/n.
No : fon of Matha, faid Cuchullin, I will never leave thee. My joy
is in the unequal field : and my foul increafes in danger. Connal, and
Carril of other times, carry off" the fad fons of Erin ; and when the
battle is over, fearch for our pale corfes in this narrow way. For near
this oak we iball ftand in the ftream of the battle of thoufands.
O Fit mil's fon, with feet of wind, fly over the heath of Lena.
Tell to Fingal that Erin is inthralled, and bid the king of Morven
haften. O let him come like the fun in a ftorm, when he Ihines
on the hills of grafs.
Morning is gray on Cromla ; the fons of the fea afcend. Cal-
mar ftood forth to meet them in the pride of his kindling foul. But
pale was the face of the warrior; he leaned on his father's fpear.
That fpear whicli he brought from Lara's hall, when the foul of
his mother was fad. But flowly now the hero falls like a tree on
the plains of Cona. Dark Cuchullin ftands alone like a rock * in a
* -r'.'Tt zTiTpri So fome tall rock o'erViangs the hoary main,
HAi'faTCf, lAiyxy.r, -srs/.ii;? eAoj If^jj By winds aflail'd, by billows beat in vain,
!8ir«, &c. Unmov'd it hears, above, the tempefts blow,
HoM. II. 15. And fees the watry mountains break below.
Pope.
faudy
Book III. A n E P I C P O E xVf . . 41
fandy vale. The fea conies with its waves, and roars on its harden-
ed fides. Its head is covered with foam, and the hills are ecchoing
around. Now from the gray mift of the ocean, the white-failed
iliips of Fingal appear. High is the grove of their mafts as they
nod, by turns, on the rolling wave.
SwARAN faw them from the hill, and returned from the fons of
Erin. As ebbs the refounding fea through the hundred ifles of Inis-
tore ; fo loud, fo vaft, fo immenfe returned the fons of Lochlin
againft the king of the defart hill. But bending, weeping, fad, and
flow, and dragging his long fpear behind, CuchuUin funk in Crom-
la's wood, and mourned his fallen friends. He feared the face of
Fingal, who was wont to greet him from the fields of renown.
How many lie there of my heroes [ the chiefs of Inisfail ! they
that were chearful in the hall when the found of the fhells arofe.
No more fhall I find their fteps in the heath, or hear their voice in
the chace of the hinds. Pale, filent, low on bloody beds are they
who were my friends ! O fpirits of the lately-dead, meet CuchuUin
on his heath. Converfe with him on the wind, when the ruftling
tree of Tura's cave refounds. There, far remote, I fhall lie un-
known. No bard fhall hear of me. No gray ftone fliall rife to my
renown. Mourn me with the dead, O Bragela ! departed is my
fame.
Such were the words of CuchuUin when he funk in the woods
of Cromla.
Fingal, tall in his Uiip, ftretched his bright lance before him.
Terrible was the gleam of the fteel : it was like the green meteor of
death, fetting in the heath of Maimer, when the traveUer is alone,
and the broad moon is darkened in heaven.
G The
42 F I N G A L, Book III.
The battle Is over, faid the king, and I behold the blood of my
friends. Sad is the heath of Lena ; and mournful the oaks of
Cromla : the hunters have fallen there in their ftrength ; and the
fon of Semo is no more. Ryno and Fillan, my fons, found the
horn of Fingal's war. Afcend that hill on the fhore, and call the
children of the foe. Call them from the grave of Lamdarg, the
chief of other times.
Be your voice like that of your father, when he enters the battles
of his ftrength. I wait for the dark mighty man ; I wait on Lena's
fliore for Swaran. And let him come with all his race; for ftrong
in battle are the friends of the dead.
Fair Ryno flew like lightning ; dark Fillan as the (hade of au-
tumn. On Lena's heath their voice is heard; the fons of ocean
heard the horn of Fingal's war. As the roaring eddy of ocean re-
turning from the kingdom of fnows ; fo ftrong, fo dark, fo fudden
came down the fons of Lochlin. The king in their front appears
in the difmal pride of his arms. Wrath burns in his dark-brown
face : and his eyes roll in the fire of his valour.
FiNGAL beheld the fon of Starno ; and he remembered Agan-
decca. For Swaran with the tears of youth had mourned his
white-bofomed fifter. He fent UUin of the fongs to bid him to the
feaft of fhells. For pleafant on Fingal's foul returned the remem-
brance of the firft of his loves.
Ullin came with aged fteps, and fpoke to Starno's fon. O thou
that dwelleft afar, furrounded, like a rock, with thy waves, come to
the feaft of the king, and pafs the day in reft. To morrow let us
fight, O Swaran, and break the ecchoing fhields.
To-
Book in. AnEPICPOEM. 43
To-day, faxd Starno's wrathful fon, we break the ecchoing fliields:
to-morrow my feafl will be fpread ; and Fingal lie on earth.
And to-morrow let his feafl be fpread, faid Fingal with a fmile;
for to-day, O my fons, we fliall break the ecchoing fhields.
Offian, ftand thou near my arm. Gaul, lift thy terrible fword.
Fergus, bend thy crooked yew. Throw, FHlan, thy lance through
heaven. Lift your fhields like the darkened moon. Be your
fpears the meteors of death. Follow mc in the path of my fame j
and equal my deeds in battle.
As a hundred winds on Morven ; as the ftreams of a hundred
hills ; as clouds fly fucceffive over heaven ; or, as the dark ocean
affaults the fhore of the defart : fo roaring, fo vaft, fo terrible the
armies mixed on Lena's ecchoing heath.
The groan of the people fpread over the hills; it was like the
thunder of night, when the cloud burfls on Cona; and a thoufand
ghofls fliriek at once on the hollow wind.
Fingal rufhed on in his ftrength, terrible as th.e fpirit of Tren-
mor; when, in a whirlwind, he comes to Morven to fee the chil-
dren of his pride The oaks refound on their hills, and the rocks
fall down before him. Bloody was the hand of my father when he
whirled the lightning of his fword. He remembers the battles of
his youth, and the field is wafled in his courfe.
Ryno went on like a pillar of fire. Dark is the brow of Gaul.
Fergus rufhed forward with feet of wind ; and Fillan like the mifl
G 2 of
44 F I N G A L, Book III.
of the hill. Mylelf *, like a rock, came down, I exulted in
the flrength of the king. Many were the deaths of my arm ; and
difmal was the gleam of my fword. My locks were not then fo
gray ; nor trembled my hands of age. My eyes were not clofed in
darknefs ; nor failed my feet in the race.
Who can relate the deaths of the people ; or the deeds of mighty
heroes ; when Fingal, burning in his wrath, confumed the fons of
Lochlin ? Groans fwelled on groans from hill to hill, till night had
covered all. Pale, ftaring like a herd of deer, the fons of Lochlin
convene on Lena. We fat and heard the fprightly harp at Lubar's
gentle ftream. Fingal himfelf was next to the foe ; and liilened to
the tales of bards. His godlike race were in the long, the chiefs of
other times. Attentive, leaning on his fliield, the king of Morven
fat. The wind whiftled through his aged locks, and his thoughts
are of the days of other years. Near him on his bending fpear,
my young, my lovely Ofcar ll:ood. He admired the king of Mor-
ven : and his adions were fwelling in his foul.
Son of my fon, begun the king, O Ofcar, pride of youth, I faw
the (Inning of thy fword and gloried in my race. Purfue the glory
of our fathers, and be what they have been ; when Trenmor lived,
the firft of men, and Trathal the father of heroes. They fought the
battle in their youth, and are the fong of bards.
O Oscar ! bend the flrong in arm : but fpare the feeble hand.
Be thou a ftreani of many tides againll the foes of thy people ; but
* Here the poet celebrates his own ac- fuggefts to him the helplefs fituation of his
tions, but he does it in fuch a manner that age. We do not del'pife him for felfiih
we are not difpleafed. The mention of praife, but feel his misfortunes.
the great adions of his youth immediately
like
Book III. A n E P I C P O E M. 45
like the gale that moves the grafs to thofe who aflv thine aid.
So Treiimor lived; fuch Trathal vv^as ; and fuch has Fingal been.
My arm was the fupport of the injured ; and the weak refted behind
the lightning of my fteel.
Oscar ! I was young like thee, when lovely Fainafollis came :
that fun-beam ! that mild light of love ! the daughter of Craca's *
king ! I then returned from Cona's heath, and few were in my
train. A white-failed boat appeared far off; we faw it like a mifl
that rode on ocean's blaft. It foon approached ; we faw the fair.
Her white breaft heaved with fighs. The wind was in her loofe
dark hair : her rofy cheek had tears.
Daughter of beauty, calm I faid, whatfigh is in that breaft .^
Can I, young as I am, defend thee, daughter of the fea ? My fword
is not unmatched in war, but dauntlefs is my heart.
To thee I fly, with fighs {he replied, O prince of mighty men !
To thee I fly, chief of the generous fliells, fupporter of the feeble
hand ! The king of Craca's ecchoing ifle owned me the fun-beam
of his race. And often did the hills of Cromala reply to the fighs of
love for the unhappy Fainafollis. Sora's chief beheld me fair; and
loved the daughter of Craca. His fword is like a beam of light
upon the warrior's fide. But dark is his brow ; and tempefts are in
his foul. I fliun him on the rolling fea ; but Sora's chief purfues.
Reft thou, I faid, behind my iliield ; reft in peace, thou beam of
light ! The gloomy chief of Sora will fly, if Fingal's arm is like his
* What the Craca here mentioned was, that it was one of the Shetland ides. —
is not, at this diflance of time, eafy to de- There is a flory concerning a daughter of
termine. The mofl probable opinion is, the king of Craca in the fixth book.
foul.
46 F I N G A L, Book HI.
foul. In fome lone cave I might conceal thee, daughter of the fea F
But Fingal never flies ; for where the danger threatens, I rejoice m
the florm of fpears.
I SAW the tears upon her cheek. I pitied Craca's fair.
Now, like a dreadful wave afar, appeared the fliip of ftormy
Borbar. His marts high-bended over the fea behind their fheets of
fnow. White roll the waters on either fide. The flrength of
ocean founds. Come thou, I faid, from the roar of ocean, thou
rider of the florm. Partake the feaft within my hall. It is the
houfe of Grangers.
The maid flood trembling by my fide j he drew the bow: flie
fell. Unerring is thy hand, I faid, but feeble was the foe.
We fought, nor weak was the ftrife of death. He funk beneath
my fword. We laid them in two tombs of flones ; the haplefs lo-
vers of youth.
Such have I been in my youth, O Ofcar; be thou like the
age of Fingal. Never fearch for the battle, nor fhun it when it
comes.
Fill AN and Ofcar of the dark-brown hair j ye children of the
race j fly over the heath of roaring winds ; and view the fons of
Lochlin. Far off I hear the noife of their fear, like the florms of
ecchoing Cona. Go : that they may not fly my fword along the
waves of the north. For many chiefs of Erin's race lie here on
the dark bed of death. The children of the florm are low; the
fons of ecchoing Cromla.
T The
Book III. A n E P I C P O E M. 47
The heroes flew like two dark clouds : two dark clouds that are
the chariots of ghofts ; when air's dark children come to frighten
haplefs men.
It was then that Gaul *, the fon of Morni, flood like a rock in
the night. His fpear is glittering to the ftars ; his voice Uke many
ftreams.
Son of battle, cried the chief, O Fingal, king offhells! let the
bards of many fongs footh Erin's friends to reft. And, Fingal,
(heath thy fword of death ; and let thy people fight. We wither
away without our fame ; for our king is the only breaker of fliields.
When morning rifes on our hills, behold at a diftance our deeds.
Let Lochliu feel the fword of Morni's fon, that bards may fmg of
me. Such was the cuftom heretofore of Fingal's noble race. Such
was thine own, thou king of fwords, in battles of the fpear.
O SON of Morni, Fingal replied, I glory in thy fame. Fight;
but my fpear fhall be near to aid thee in the midft of danger. Raife,
raife the voice, fons of the fong, and lull me into reft. Here will
Fingal lie amidft the wind of night. And if thou, Agandecca,
art near, among the children of thy land ; if thou fitteft on a blaft
of wind among the high-fhrowded mafts of Lochlin ; come to my
dreams -|-, my fair one, and fliew thy bright face to my foul.
* Gaul, the fon of Morni, was chief of a more ftrength than condu(fl in battle. He
tribe that difputed long, the pre-eminence, was very fond of military fame, and here
with Fingal himfelf. They were reduced hedemands the next battle to himfelf.— The
at laft to obedience, and Gaul, from an poet, by an artifice, removes Fingal, that
enemy, turned Fingal's beft friend and his return may be the more magnificent,
greateft hero. His charafler is fomething f The poet prepares us for the dream of
like that of Ajax in the Iliad ; a hero of Fingal in the next book.
Many
48 F I N G A L, Book III,
Many a voice and many a harp in tuneful founds arofe. Of Fin-
gal's noble deeds they fung, and of the noble race of the hero. And
fometimes on the lovely found was heard the name of the now
mournful Offian.
Often have I fought, and often won in battles of the fpear. But
blind, and tearful, and forlorn I now walk with little men. O Fin-
gal, with thy race of battle I now behold thee not. The wild roes
feed upon the green tomb of the mighty king of Morven. Bleft
be thy foul, thou king of fwords, thou moil renowned on the hills
of Cona !
F 1 N G A L,
( 49 )
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIENT
EPIC POEM.
BOOK IV*.
WHO comes with her fongs from the mountain, like the
bow of the fliowery Lena ? It is the maid of the voice of
love. The white-armed daughter of Tofcar. Often haft thou heard
my fong, and given the tear of beauty. Doft thou come to the
battles of thy people, and to hear the actions of Ofcar ? When fliall
I ceafe to mourn by the ftreams of the ecchoing Cona ? My years
have pafTed away in battle, and my age is darkened with forrow.
Daughter of the hand of fnow ! I was not fo mournful and
blind ; I was not fo dark and forlorn when Everallln loved me.
* Fingal being adcep, and the action middle of the third night from the opening
fufpended by night, the poet introduces the of the poem. This book, as many of
ftory ofhiscourtftiipof Evirallin thedaugh- Oflian's other compofitions, is addreffed
t :r of Eranno. The epifode is neceffary fo the beautiful Malvina the daughter of
to clear up feveral paflages that follow in Tofcar. She appears to have been in love
the poem ; at the fame lime that it na- with Ofcar, and to have aftefled the com-
turally brings on the aflion of the book, pany of the father af[cr the death of the
which may be fuppofed to begin about the fon.
H Everallln
so F I N G A L, Book IV.
Everallin with the dark-brown hair, the white-bofoined love of Cor-
mac* A thoufdnd heroes fought the maid, flie denied her love to a
thoufend ; the fom of the fword were defpifed ; for graceful in her
eyes was Oflian.
I WENT in fuil of the maid to Lego's fable furge j twelve of my
people were tliere, the fons of the ftreamy iVIorven. We came to
Branno friend of lirangers : Branno of the founding mail. From
Avhence, he faid, are the arms of il:eel ? Not eafy to win is the maid
that has denied the blue-eyed fons of Erin. But bleft be thou, O
fon of Fingal, happy is the maid that waits thee. Tho' twelve
daughters of beauty were mine, thine were the choice, thou fon of
fame ! Then he opened the hall of the maid, the dark-haired
Everallin. Joy kindled in our breafts of fleel and bleft the maid
gf Branno.
^ Above us on the hill appeared the people of ftately Cormac.
Eight were the heroes of the chief; and the heath flamed with their
arms. There Colla, Durra of the wounds, there mighty Tofcar,.
and Tago, there Freftal the vidtorious ftood ; Dairo of the happy
deeds, and Dala the battle's bulwark in the narrow way. The
fword flamed in the hand of Cormac, and graceful was the look of
the hero.
Eight were the heroes of Oflian ; Ullin ftormy fon of war;
Mullo of the generous deeds; the noble, the graceful Scelacha ;
Gglan, and Cerdal tlie WTathful, and Dumariccan's brows of death.
And why fhould Ogar be the laft ; fo wide renowned on the hills
of Ardven ?
Ogar met Dala the ftrong, face to face, on the field of heroes..
The battle of the chiefs was like the wind on ocean's foamy waves.
The
Book IV. An EPIC P O £ M, ^i
The da^8;er is rcnienibered by Ogar ; the weapon which he loved ;
nine times he drowned it in Dcla's lide. The ftormy battle turned.
Three times I broke on Cormac's fhield : three times he broke his
fpear. But, unhappy youth of love ! I cut his head away.— —Five
times I fhook it by the lock. The friends of Cormac fled.
Whoever would have told me, lovely maid, when then I flrove
in battle ; that blind, forfaken, and forlorn I now iTiould pafs the
night ; firm ought his mail to have been, and unmatched his arm
in battle.
Now * on Lena's gloomy heath the voice of mufic died away.
The unconftant blafl blew hard, and the high oak fhook its leaves
around me ; of Everallin were my thoughts, when fhe, in all the
light of beauty, and her blue eyes rolling in tears, flood on a cloud
before my fight, and fpoke with feeble voice.
O OssiAN, rife and fave my fon j fave Ofcar prince of men, near
the red oak of Lubar's ftream, he fights with ochlin's fons. She
funk into her cloud again. I clothed me with my fleel. My fpear
fupported my fteps, and my rattling armour rung. I hummed, as I
was wont in danger, the fongs of heroes of old. Like diftant thun-
der -f Lochlin heard ; they fled j my fon purfued.
* The poet returns to his fubjecSt. If my. This paflage rcfembles one in the
one could fix the time of the year in which eighteenth IIia<l, where the voice of Achil-
the aflionof the poem happened, from the les frightens the Trojans from the body of
fcene defcribed here, I (hould be tempted Patroclus;
to place it in autumn — The trees flied Forth march'd the chief, and diftant from
tlieir leaves, and the winds are variable, the crowd
both which circumftaiices agree with that Highontherampartrais'd hisvoicealbud.
feafon of the year. • So high his brazen voice the hero rear'^]
t Oflian gives the reader a high idea of Hofts drop their arms and. trembled is
^imfelf. His very fong frightens the ene- they fear'd. Pope.
H 2 I CALLED
52 F I N G A L, Book- IV.
I CALLED him like a diftant ftream. My fon return over Lena,
No farther purfue the foe, though Ofiian is behind thee. He
came ; and lovely in my ear was Ofcar's founding fteel. Why didft
thou rtop my hand, he faid, till death had covered all ? For dark
and dreadful by the ftream they met thy fon and Fillan. They
watched the terrors of the night. Our fwords have conquered
fome. But as the winds of night pour the ocean over the white
fands of Mora, fo dark advance the fons of Lochlin over Lena's
ruftling heath. The ghofts of night iliriek afar; and I have feen
the meteors of death. Let me awake the king of Morven, he
that fmiles in danger ; for he is like the fun of heaven that rifes in
a ftorm.
Fin GAL had ftarted from a dream, and leaned on Trenmor's
tliield J the dark-brown fhield of his fathers ; which they had lifted
of old in the battles of their race.
My hero had feen in his reft the mournful form of Agandecca j
file came from the way of the ocean, and llowly, lonely, moved over
Lena. Her face was pale like the mift of Cromla ; and dark were
the tears of her cheek. She often raifed her dim hand from her
robe ; her robe which was of the clouds of the defart : fhe raifed her
dim hand over Fingal, and turned away her filent eyes.
Why weeps the daughter of Starno, faid Fingal, with a figh ?
Why is thy face fo pale, thou daughter of the clouds .''
She departed on the wind of Lena; and left him in the midft of
the night. She mourned the fons of her people that were to fall
by Fingal's hand.
The
Book IV. A n E P I C P O E M. ^^
The hero ftarted from reft, and ftill beheld her in his foul
The found of Ofcar's fteps approached. The king faw the gray
fhield on his fide. For the faint beam of the morning came over
the waters of Ullin.
What do the foes in their fear, faid the rifing king of Morven ?
Or fly they through ocean's foam, or wait they the battle of fteel ?
But why fhould Fingal afk ? I hear their voice on the early wind. —
Fly over Lena's heath, O Ofcar, and awake our friends to battle.
The king flood by the ftone of Lubar; and thrice reared his ter-
rible voice. The deer ftarted from the fountains of Cromla ; and
all the rocks fhook on their hills. Like the noife of a hundred
mountain-ftreams, that burft, and roar, and foam : like the clouds
that gather to a tempeft on the blue face of the fky ; fo met the fons
of the defart, round the terrible voice of Fingal. For pleafant was
the voice of the king of Morven to the warriors of his land : for often
had he led them to battle, and returned with the fpoils of the foe.
Come to battle, faid the king, ye children of the ftorm. Come
to the death of thoufands. Comhal's fon will fee the flght. My
fword fhall wave on that hill, and be the fhield of my people. But
never may you need it, warriors -, while the fon of Morni fights, the
chief of mighty men. He fhall lead my battle i that his fame
may rife in the fong.
O YE ghofts of heroes dead ! ye riders of the ftorm of Cromla [
receive my falling people with joy, and bring them to your hills.
And may the blaft of Lena carry them over my feas, that they may
come to my filent dreams, and delight my foul in reft.
FlLLAN
54 F I N G A L, Book IV.
Fill AN and Ofcar, of the dark-brown hair! fair Ryno, with
the pointed fteel ! advance with valour to the fight ; and behold the
fon Tof Morni. Let your fwords be like his in the flrife : and behold
the deeds of his hands. Protedt the friends of your father : and
remember the chiefs of old. My children, I will fee you yet,
though here ye flioiild fall in Erin. Soon fliall our cold, pale ghofts
meet in a cloud, and fly over the hills of Cona.
Now like a dark and flormy cloud, edged round with the red
lightning of heaven, and flying weftward from the morning's beam,
tTie king 'of hills removed. Terrible is the light of his armour, and
two fpfears are in his hand. His gray hair falls on the wind.— —
H'eoften' looks back on the war. Three bards attend the fon of
fa'me; to carry his words to the heroes. — High on Cromla's fide he
fat; waving the lightning of his fword, and as he waved we moved.
■■ J'ov rofe in Ofcar's face. His cheek is red. His eye flieds tears.
Tl\e fword is abeam of fire in his hand. He came, and fmiling,
fpoke to Oilian.
■' 0 RULER of the fight of fleel ! my father, hear thy fon. Retire
with Morven's mighty chiefs and give me Oflian's fame. And if
here I fall ; nry king, remember that breafl of ' fnow, that lonely
fon-beam of my love, the white-handed daughter of Tofcar. For
with red cheek from the rock, and bending over the flream, her foft
liair flies about her bofom as fhe pours the figh for Ofcar. Tell her
I ■am on my hills a lightly-bounding fdn of the wind ; that hereaffer,
in a cloud, I may meet the lovely maid of Tofcar.
Raise, Ofcar, rathef r.iife my t6mb": •! wiH not yield the fight
to thee; For firll and bloodieft in the war my arm fliall teach
8 thee
Book IV. An E P I C P O E M. ^S
thee how to fight. But, remember, my fon, to place this fword,
this bow, and the horn of my deer, within that dark and narrow
houfe, whofe mark is'one gray ftone. Ofcar, I have no love to leave
to the care of my fon j for graceful Evirallin is no more, the lovely
daughter of Branno.
Such were our words, when Gaul's loud voice came growing on
the wind. He waved on hish the fword of his father, and rufhed
to death and wounds.
y :' ;j J
As waves white-bubbling over the deep come fwelling, roaring
on J as rocks of ooze meet roaring waves : fo foes attacked and
fought. Man met with man, and fteel with fteel. Shields found,
men fall. As a hundred hammers on the fon of the furnace, fo rofe,
fo rung their fwords.
Gaul ruflied on like a whirlwind in Ardven. The deftrudlion
of heroes is on his fword. Swaran was like the fire of the defart in
the ecchoing heath of Gormal. How can I give to the fong the
death of many fpears ? My fword rofe high, and flamed in the ftrife
of blood. And, Ofcar, terrible wert thou, my beft, my greateft
fon ! I rejoiced in my fecret foul, when his fword flamed over the
flain. They fled amain through Lena's heath : and v/e purfued and
flew. As flones that bound from rock to rock ; as axes in ecchoing.
woods ; as thunder rolls from hill to hill in difmal broken peals ; fo
blow fucceeded to blow, and death to death, from the hand of Ofcar *
and mine.
* Oflian never fails to give a fins cha- a propriety in dwelling here on the aiSions
rafter of his beloved fon. His fpeech to of Ofcar, as the beautiful Malvina, to
his father is that of a hero ; it contains the whom the book is addrcfied, was in love
fubmiffion due to a parent, and the warmth with that hero,
that becomes a young warrior. There is
But
56 F I N G A L, Book IV.
But Swaran clofed round Morni's fon, as the ftrength of the tide
of Iniftore. The king half-rofe from his hill at the fight, and half-
aflumed the fpear. Go, UUin, go, my aged bard, begun the king
ofMorven. Remind the mighty Gaul of battle j remind him of
his fathers. Support the yielding fight with fong; for fong enlivens
war. Tall Ullin went, with fteps of age, and fpoke to the king
of fwords.
Son* of the chief of generous fteeds ! high-bounding king of
fpears. Strong arm in every perilous toil. Hard heart that never
yields. Chief of the pointed arms of death. Cut down the foe;
let no white fail bound round dark Iniftore. Be thine arm like
thunder. Thine eyes like fire, thy heart of folid rock. Whirl round
thy fword as a meteor at night, and lift thy fliield like the flame of
death. Son of the chief of generous ll;eeds, cut down the foe ; deftroy.
The hero's heart beat high. But Swaran came with battle. He
cleft the fliield of Gaul in twain ; and the fons of the defart fled.
Now Fingal arofe in his might, and thrice he reared his voice.
Cromla anfwered around, and the fons of the defart ftood ftill.
They bent their red faces to earth, afliamed at the prefence of Fin-
gal. He came like a cloud of rain in the days of the fun, when
flow it rolls on the hill, and fields expedl the fliower. Swaran be-
held the terrible king of Morven, and fliopped in the midft of his
courfe. Dark he leaned on his fpear, rolling his red eyes around.
Silent and tall he feemed as an oak on the banks of Lubar, which
* The war-fong of Ullin varies from the rhymes, has been carried down almoft to
reft of the poem in tlie verfification. It runs our own times. Several of thefe war- fongs
down like a torrent ; and confifts almoft are extant, but the moft of them are only
ir,tJre'y of epithets. The cuftom of en- a group of epithets, without beauty or har-
couraging men in battle with extempore mony, utterly deftitute of poetical merit.
I had
Book IV. A n E P I C P O E M. ■ S7
had its branches blafted of old by the lightning of heaven.- It
bends over the ftream, and the gray mofs whiftles in the wind : fo
Itood the king. Then (lowly he retired to the rifing heath of Lena.
His thonfands pour around the hero, and the darknefs of battle ga-
thers on the hill.
FiNGAL, like a beam from heaven, flione in the midll of his
people. His heroes gather around him, and he fends forth the voice
of his power. Raife my standards * on high, — fpread them on Le-
na's wind, like the flames of an hundred hills. Let them found on
the winds of Erin, and remind us of the fight. Ye fons of the roar-
ing flreams, that pour from a thoufand hills, be near the king of
Morven : attend to the words of his power. Gaul firongefl arm of
death ! O Ofcar, of the future fights -, Connal, fon of the blue
blades of Sora; Dermid of the dark-brown hair, and OfTian king
ot many fongs, be near your father's arm.
We reared the fun-beam -f of battle ; the flandard of the king.
Each hero's foul exulted with joy, as, waving, it flew on the wind.
It was ftudded with gold above, as the blue wide fliell of the nightly
fky. Each hero had his ftandard too ; and each his gloomy men.
Behold, faid the king of generous fliells, how Lochlin divides
on Lena. They ftand like broken clouds on the hill, or an half
confumed grove of oaks ; when we fee the fky through its branches,
and the meteor pafling behind. Let every chief among the friends
* Th' imperial enfign, which full high t Fingal's ftanJard was diftinguiflieJ by
advanc'd, the name of fun-beam ; probably on account
Shone like a meteor dreaming to the of its bright colour, and its being fludded
wind, wiih gold. To begin a battle is exprcfled, in
Milton. old compofition, by lifting of ihe fuii-bcam.
I of
5$ F I N G A L, Book: IV,
of Fingal take a dark troop of thofe that frown fo high j nor let a
fon of the ecchoing groves bound on the waves of Iniftore.
Mine, faid Gaul, be the feven chiefs that came from Lano's
laJie. Let Iniflore's dark king, faid Ofcar, come to the fword
of Offian's fon. To mine the king of Inifcon, faid Connal, heart
of fleel ! Or Mudan's chief or I, faid brown-haired Dermid, fliall
lleep on clay-cold earth. IVIy choice, though now fo weak and
dark, was Terman's battling king ; I promifed with my hand to
win the hero's dark-brown fliield. Bleft and vidorious be my
chiefs, faid Fingal of the mildeft look ; Swaran, king of roaring
waves, thou art the choice of Fingal.
Now, like an hundred different winds that pour through many
vales ; divided, dark the fons of the hill advanced, and Cromla ec-
choed around.
How can I relate the deaths when v/e clofed in the Arife of our
fteel ? O daughter of Tofcar ! bloody were our hands ! The gloomy
ranks of Lochlin fell like the banks of the roaring Cona. Our
arms Vv^ere vlcflorious on Lena : each chief fulfilled his promife. Be-
fide the murmur of Branno thou didil often fit, O maid ; when thy
white bofom rofe frequent, like the down of the fvvan when flow
fhe fills the lake, and fidelong winds are blowing. Thou hail
feen the fun * retire red and flow behind his cloud ; night gathering
* Sol qucque ijf exoriens U' cum fe andit Above the reft the fun, who never lie?,
in undas Forctels the change of weather in tlie fKics.
Si^iadabit. SoUmart'JfimaJl^naftquun'.w, For if he rile, unwilling to his race,
Vt qua mane refirt, (J quisjurgentlbm aftris. Clouds on his br<;\v and fpots upon his fjce ;
Jileubl nojcer.um maculii variaverh ortum Or if thro' mifls he flioots his fullen beams,
Conditus innubem, medio pc refhgerlt oile ; P'rugalof lightjn loofe and Araggling ft reams,
Sufpcili tibi fu.t Imlires, Vik.g. Sufped a dri/ling c!.iy, Dry»ek.
round
Book I\^ An EPIC P O E M. ^5
round on the mountain, while the unfrequent blaft * roared in narrow
vales. At length the rain beats hard -, and thunder rolls in peals.
Lightning glances on the rocks. Spirits ride on beams of fire. And
the ftrength of the mountain-ftreams -f comes roaring down the
hills. Such was the noife of battle, maid of the arms of fnow. Why,
daughter of the hill, that tear ? the maids of Lochlin have caufe to
weep. The people of their country fell, for bloody were the blue
blades of the race of my heroes. But I am fad, forlorn, and blind ;
and no more the companion of heroes. Give, lovely maid, to mc
thy tears, for I have feen the tombs of all my friends.
It was then by Fingal's hand a hero fell, to his grief.— — Gray-
haired he rolled in the duft, and lifted his faint eyes to the king.
And is it by me thou haft fallen, faid the fon of Comhal, thou
friend of Agandecca ! I have feen thy tears for the maid of my love
in the halls of the bloody Starno. Thou haft been the foe of the
foes of my love, and haft thou fallen by my hand ? Raife, Ullin,
raife the grave of the fon of Mathon ; and give his name to the fong
of Agandecca; for dear to my foul haft thou been, thou darkly-
dwelling maid of Ardven.
CucHULLiN, from the cave of Cromla, heard the noife of the
troubled war. He called to Connal chief of fwords, and Carril of
other times. The gray-haired heroes heard his voice, and took their
alpen fpears.
*Continuoven!lsf,irgenl'ibmautfietapon'.'t Soft whifpcrs run along the leafy wood,
In iltunt agitata tumefcerc ; Cs" aridus aUis And mountains whiftle to the murm'ring
Mmtibus audiri fragor, out refonantia knge P.ood. Dryden.
Littora mifceri, (jf remonim increbefcere f rw.mt de moniibus anmis. Virg.
murmhr. Virg, The rapid rains, defcending from the bill»-,
For ere the rlfing winds begin to roar, To rolling torrents ftvell the creeping rills.
The working feas advance to wafli the flicre ; D.'t yden-.
J 2 TH£V
6o F I N G A L, Book IV.
They came, and faw the tide of battle, like the crowded waves of
the ocean ; v.'hen the dark wind blows from the deep, and rolls the
billows through the fandy vale.
CuCHULLiN kindled at the fight, and darknefs gathered on his
brow. His hand is on the fvvord of his fathers : his red-rolling eyes
on the foe. He thrice attempted to rufh to battle, and thrice did
Connal flop him. Chief of the ifle of mift, he faid, Fingal fubdues
the foe. Seek not a part of the fame of the king -, himfelf is like
the ilorm.
Then, Carril, go, replied the chief, and greet the king of Mor-
ven. When Lochlin falls away like a ftream after rain, and the
noife of the battle is over. Then be thy voice fweet in his ear to
praife the king of fwords. Give him the fword of Caithbat, for
Cuchullin is worthy no more to lift the arms of his fathers.
But, O ye ghofts of the lonely Cromla ! ye fouls of chiefs that are
no more ! be ye the companions of Cuchullin, and talk to him in
the cave of his forrow. For never more ihull I be renowned among
the mighty in the land. I am like a beam that has flione, like a
mift that fled away; when the blafl of the morning came, and
brightened the fhaggy fide of the hill. Connal ! talk of arms no more :
departed is my fame. — My fighs fliall be on Cromla's wind i till my
footfleps ceafe to be feen. And thou, white-bofom'd Bragela,
mourn over the fall of my fame ; for, vanquifhed, I will never re-
turn to thee, thou fun-beam of Dunfcaich.
FINGAL,
( 6i )
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIENT
EPIC POEM.
BOOK V*.
NOW Connal, on Cromla's windy fide, fpoke to the chief of
the noble car. Why that gloom, fon ofSemo? Our friends
are the mighty in battle. And renowned art thou, O warrior ! many
were the deaths of thy fteel. Often has Bragela met with blue-
rolling eyes of joy ; often has fhe met her hero, returning in the
midft of the valiant j when his fword was red with flaughter, and
his foes filent in the fields of the tomb. Pleafant to her ears were
thy bards, when thine adlions rofe in the fong.
* The fourth day ftill continues. The charafter of Connal. No poet has ad-
poet by putting the narration in the mouth apted the cadence of his verfe more to the
of Connal, who ftill remained with Cu- temper of the fpeaker, than Offian has
chullin on the fide of Cromla, gives pro- done. It is more than probable that the
priety to the praifes of Fingal. The be- whole poem was originally defigned to be
ginning of this book, in the original, is fung to the harp, as the verfihcation is fo
one of the moft beautiful parts of the various, and fo much fuited to the different
poem. The verfification is regular and paffions of the human mind,
full, and agrees very well with the fedate
But
62 F I N G A L, Book V.
But behold the king of Mon'en ; he moves below like a pillar of
fire. His ftrength is like the ftream of Lubar, or the wind of thfi
ecchoing Cromla; when the branchy forefts of night are overturned.
Happy are thy people, O Fingal, thine arm fhall fight their
battles : thou art the firft in their dangers ; the wifeft in the days of
their peace. Thou fpeakeft and thy thoufands obeyj and armies
tremble at the found of thy fteel. Happy are thy people, Fingal,
chief of the lonely hills.
Who is that fo dark and terrible coming ia the thunder of his
courfe ? who is it but Starno's fon to meet the king of IVIorven ? Be-
hold the battle of the chiefs : it is like the ilorm of the ocean, when
two fpirits meet far dirtant, and contend for the rolling of the wave.
The hunter hears the noife on his hill ; and fees the high billows
advancing to Ardven's fhore.
Such were the words of Connal, when the heroes met in the
midft of their falling people. There was the clang of arms ! there
every blow, like the hundred hammers of the furnace ! Terrible is
the battle of the kings, and horrid the look of their eyes. Their
dark-brown fliields are cleft in twain ; and their fteel flies, broken,
from their helmets. They fling their weapons down. Each rufhes *
to his hero's grafp. Their finewy arms bend round each other :
they turn from fide to fide, and ftrain and ftretch their large Ipread-
* This pafTagc refembles one in the Now to the grafp each manly body bends j
twenty third Iliad. The humid fvveat from cv'ry porcdefcends ;
Clofe lock'd above their heads and arms Their bones refound with blows : fides,
are mixt ; fhoulders, thighs.
Below their planted feet at diftancefbit j Swell to each £rine,and bloody tumours rife.
Pope.
3 i"g
Book V. A n E P I C P O E M. 6t,
ing limbs below. Bat when the pride of their ftrength arofe, they
fliook the hill with their heels ; rocks tumble from their places on
high; the green-headed bufhes are overturned. At length the
ftrength of Swaran fell ; and the king of the groves is bound.
Thus have I feen on Cona; but Cona I behold no more, thus
have I feen two dark hills removed from their place by the ftrengtb
of the burfting ftream. They turn from fide to fide, and their tall
oaks meet one another on high. Then they fall together with all
their rocks and trees. The flreams are turned by their fides, and-
the red ruin is {^tn afar.
Sons of the king of Morven, faid the noble Fingal, guard the
king of Lochlin ; for he is fi:rong as his thoufand waves. His hand
is taught to the battle, and his race of the times of old. Gaul, thou
firft of my heroes, and Offian king of fongs, attend the friend of
Agandecca, and raife to joy his grief. But, Ofcar, Fillan, and
Ryno, ye children of the race ! purfue the reft of Lochlin over
the heath of Lena ; that no veffel may hereafter bound on the dark-
rolling waves of Iniftore.
They flew like lightning over the heath. He flowly moved as
a cloud of thunder when the fultry plain of fummer is filent. His
fword is before him as a fun-beam, terrible as the ftreaming meteor
of night. He came toward a chief of LochHn, and fpoke to the foa
of the wave.
Who is that like a cloud at the rock of the roaring ftream ? He
cannot boimd over its courfe ; yet ftately is the chiet ! his bofiy
(hield is on his fide ; and his fpear like the tree of the delart,
Youtli of the daik-browu hair, art thou of Fingal's foes .?
I AM
64 F I N G A L, Book V.
I AM a fon of Lochlin, he cries, and ftrong is my arm in war.
My fpoufe is weeping at home, but Orla * will never return.
Or fights or yields the hero, faid Fingal of the noble deeds ? foes
do not conquer in my prefence ; but my friends are renowned in the
hall. Son of the wave, follow me, partake the feafl of my Ihells,
and purfue the deer of my defart.
No : faid the hero, I afTift the feeble: my ftrength fliall remain
with the weak, in arms. My fword has been always unmatched,
O warrior : let the king of Morven yield.
I NEVER yielded, Orla, Fingal never yielded to man. Draw thy
fword and chufe thy foe. Many arc my heroes.
And does the king refufe the combat, faid Orla of the dark-brown
hair ? Fingal is a match for Orla : and he alone of all his race.
But, king of Morven, if I fliall fall; as one time the warrior
mufl die ; raife my tomb in the midfl, and let it be the greateft on
Lena. And fend, over the dark-blue wave, the fword of Orla to
the fpoufe of his love ; that flie may fliew it to her fon, with tears,
to kindle his foul to war.
Son of the mournful tale, faid Fingal, why doft thou awaken my
tears ? One day the warriors mufl die, and the children fee their
* The ftory of Orla is fo beautiful and attention of the reader when he expelled
afFe£ling in the original, that many are in nothing but languor in the conduct of the
pofrefTion of it in the north of Scotland, poem, as the great aition was over in the
who never heard a fyllable more of the conqueft of Swaran.
poem. It varies the adion, and awakes the
ufelefs
JBooK V. A N E P I C P O R M. 65-
ufelefs arms in the hall. But, Orl;i, thy toaib fliall rile, and thy
white-bolbmcd fpoufe \\cep over thy fvvord.
TiiEY fought on the heath of Lena, but feeble was the arm of
Orla. The fword of Fingal defcended, and cleft his (liield in twain. It
fell and glittered on the ground, as the moon on the ftream of night.
King of Morven, faid the hero, lift thy fword, and pierce my
breall:. Wounded and faint from battle my friends have left me
here. The mournful tale fliall come to my love on the banks cf
the ftreamy Loda ; when flie is alone in the wood i and the ruftling
blaft in the leaves.
No i faid the king of Morven, I will never wound thee, Orla.
On the banks of Loda let her fee thee efcaped from the hands of
war. Let thy gray-haired father, who, perhaps, is blind with age,
hear the found of thy voice in his hall. With joy let the hero
rife, and fearch for his fon with his hands.
But never will he find him, Fingal; faid the youth of the
flreamy Loda. On Lena's heath I fliall die ; and foreign bards
will talk of me. My broad belt covers my wound of death. And
now I give it to the wind.
The dark blood poured from his fide, he fell pale on the heath
of Lena. Fingal bends over him as he dies, and calls his younger
heroes.
Oscar and Fillan, my fons, raife high the memory of Orla.
Here let the dark-haired hero reft far from the fpoufe of his love.
Here let him reft in his narrow houfe far from the found of Lock.
K; The
66 F I N G A L, Book V.
The fons of the feeble will find his bow at home, but will not be
able to bend it. His faithful dogs howl on his hills, and his boars,
which he ufed to purfue, rejoice. Fallen is the arm of battle ; the
mighty among the valiant is low !
Exalt the voice, and blow the horn, ye fons of the king of
Morven : let us go back to Swaran, and fend the night away on
fong. Fillan, Ofcar, and Ryno, fly over the heath of Lena. Where,
Ryno, art thou, young fon of fame ? Thou art not wont to be the
laft to anfwer thy father.
Ryno, faid Ullin firfi: of bards. Is with the awful forms of his
fathers. With Trathal king of Shields, and Trenmor of the mighty
deeds. The youth is low, — the youth is pale, — he lies on Le-
na's heath.
And fell the fwifteft in the race, faid the king, the firfl: to bend
the bow ? Thou fcarce haft been known to me ; Avhy did young
Ryno fall ? But fleep thou foftly on Lena, Fingal fliall foon behold
thee. Soon fliall my voice be heard no more, and my footfteps ceafe
to be feen. The bards will tell of Fingal's name ; the ftones will talk
of me. But, Ryno, thou art low indeed, thou haft not received
thy fame. Ullin, ftrike the harp for Ryno; tell what the chief
would have been. Farewel, thou firft in every field. No more
(hall I diredl thy dart. Thou that haft been fo fair ; I behold thee
not — Farewel.
The tear is on the cheek of the king, for terrible was his fon in
war. His fon ! that was like a beam of fire by night on the hill ;
when the forefts fink down in its courfe, and the traveller trembles
at the found.
Whose
BookV. An epic P O E M. 6;
Whose fame is in that dark-green tomb, begun the king of ge-
nerous fhells ? four ftones with their heads of mofs ftand there ; and
mark the narrow houfe of death. Near it let my Ryno reft, and be
the neighbour of the valiant. Perhaps fome chief of fame is here to
fly with my fon on clouds. O UUin, raife the fongs of other times.
Bring to memoiy the dark dwellers of the tomb. If in the field of
the valiant they never fled from danger, my fon fliall reft with them,
far from his friends, on the heath of Lena.
Here, faid the mouth of the fong, here reft the firft of heroes.
Silent is Lamderg * in this tomb, and Ullin king of fwords. And
who, foft fmiling from her cloud, fhews me her face of love ?
Why, daughter, why fo pale art thou, firft of the maids of Cromla .?
Doft thou fleep with the foes in battle, Gelchofla, white-bofomed
daughter of Tuathal ? Thou haft been the love of thoufands, but
Lamderg was thy love. He came to Selma's mofiy towers, and,
ftriking his dark buckler, fpoke:
Where is Gelchofl'a, my love, the daughter of the noble Tua-
thal ? I left her in the hall of Selma, when I fought with the glQom\'
Ulfadda. Return foon, O Lamderg, flie faid, for here I am in tlie
midft of forrow. Her white breaft rofe with fighs. Her cheek was
wet with tears. But I fee her not coming to meet me ; and to footh
my foul after battle. Silent is the hall of my joy ; I hear not the
voice of the bard. — Bran -f- does not fliake his chains at the gate, glad
yy, * Lamh-dhearg fignifies blco!y Iiand. north of Scotland, to give the names of
j1/^ Gelchofla, white legged. Tuathal, furly. the heroes mentioned in this poem, to
Ulfadda, kng-heard. Ferchios, the an- their dogs ; a proof that they are fanii-
qucror of men. liar to the ear, and their fame generally
t Bran is a common name of gray- known,
hounds to this day. It is a cuftom in the
K 2 at
68 F I N G A L, Book V.
at the coming of Lamderg. Where is Gelchofla, my love, the
mild daughter of the generous Tuathal ?
La.mderg ! fays Ferchios the fon of Aidon, Gelchofl'a may be on
Cromla ; flie and the maids of the bow purfuing the flying deer.
Ferchios ! repHed the chief of Cromla, no noife meets the ear
of Lamderg. No found is in the woods of Lena. No deer fly in
my fight. No panting dog purfues. I fee not Gelchofla my love,
fair as the full moon fetting on the hills of Cromla. Go, Ferchios,
go to Allad * the gray-haired fon of the rock. His dwelling is in
the circle of flones. He may know of Gelchofla.
The fon of Aidon wentj and fpoke to the ear of age. Allad !
thou that dwelleft in the rock : thou that tremblefl: alone, whatfaw
thine eyes of age ?
I SAW, anfwered Allad the old, Ullin the fon of Cairbar. He
came like a cloud from Cromla ; and he hummed a furly fong like
a blafi: in a leaflefs wood. He entered the hall of Selma. Lam-
derg, he faid, moft dreadful of men, fight or yield to Ullin. Lam-
derg, replied Gelchoflli, the fon of battle, is not here. He fights
Ulfada mighty chief. He is not here, thou firft of men. But Lam-
derg never yielded. He will fight the fon of Cairbar.
* Allad is plainly a druid : he is called fupernatural knowledge of things ; from
the fon of the rock, from his dwelling in a the druids, no doubr, came the ridiculous
cave ; and the circle of ftones here men- notion of the fecond fight, which prevailed
tioned is the pale of the druidical temple, in the highlands and ifles.
He is here confulted as one who had a
Lovely
BookV. AnEPICPOEM. 69
Lovely art thou, faid terrible Ullin, daughter of the generous
Tuathal. I carry thee to Cairbar's halls. The valiant fliall have
GelchofTa. Three days I remain on Cromla, to wait that fon of
battle, Lamderg. On the fourth GelcholTa is mine, if the mighty
Lamderg flies.
All AD ! fiid the chief of Cromla, peace to thy dreams in the
cave. Ferchios, found the horn of Lamderg that Ullin may hear
on Cromla. Lamderg*, like a roaring ftorm, afcended the hill
from Selma. He hummed a furly fong as he went, like the noife
of a falling ftream. He flood like a cloud on the hill, that varies
its form to the wind. He rolled a ftone, the fign of war. Ullin
heard in Cairbar's hall. The hero heard, with joy, his foe, and
took his father's fpear. A fmile brightens his dark-brown cheek, as
he places his fword by his fide. The dagger glittered in his hand.
He whiflled as he went.
Gelchossa faw the filent chief, as a wreath of mifl: afcending
the hill. She flruck her white and heaving breafl ; and filenr,
tearful, feared for Lamderg.
Cairbar, hoary chief of ihells, faid the maid of the tender
hand; I mufl bend the bow on Cromla; for I fee the dark-brown
hinds.
She hafled up the hill. In vain ! the gloomy heroes fought.
Why fliould I tell the king of Morven how wrathful heroes fight !
* The reader will find this paflage al- differently by tradition, and the tranflator
tered from what it was- in the frajiments of has chofen that reading which favours leaft
ancient pcstry, It is delivered down very of bomhaft..
3 Fierce
yo F I N G A L, Book V.
Fierce Ullin fell. Young Lamderg came all pale to the daugh-
ter of generous Tuathal.
What blood, my love, the foft-haired woman fald, what blood
runs down my warrior's lide ? It is Ullin's blood, the chief re-
plied, thou fairer than the fnow of Cromla ! GelcholTa, let me reft
here a little while. The mighty Lamderg died.
And fleepefl: thou fo foon on earth, O chief of fhady Cromla?
three days fhe mourned belide her love. The hunters found her
dead. They raifed this tomb above the three. Thy fon, O king
of Morven, may rell here with heroes.
And here my fon will relT:, faid Fingal, the noife of their fame
has reached my ears. Fillan and Fergus ! bring hither Orla ; the
pale youth of the flream of Loda. Not unequalled fhall Ryno lie in
earth when Orla is by his fide. Weep, ye daughters of Morven ;
and ye maids of the flreamy Loda. Like a tree they grew on the
hills ; and they have fallen like the oak * of the defart ; when it lies
acrofs a flream, and withers in the wind of the mountain.
Oscar! chief of every youth! thou feeft how they have fallen.
Be thou, like them, on earth renowned. Like them the fong of
bards. Terrible were their forms in battle ; but calm was Ryno in
the days of peace. He was like the bow -f- of the fhower feen far
* — u,'oT£Ti,-^^ir??«i7r£y— HoM.Il.i6. What mean thofe colour'd flreaks ia
■ as the mountain oak heav'n.
Nods to the ax, till with a groaning found DlftenJed as the brow of God appeas'd,
It finks, and fpreads its honours on the Or ferve they as a flow'ry verge to bind
ground. Pope. The fluid Ikirts of that fame watry cloud ?
t a bow ■"■'"' ""^ Milton.
Confpicuous with three lifted colours cay.
^ ^ diftant
Book V. An E P I C P O E M. 71
diftant on the ftream ; when the fun is fetting on Mora, and filence
on the hill of deer. Reft, youngeft of my fons, reft, O Ryno, on
Lena. We too (hall be no more ; for the warrior one day muft fall.
Such was thy grief, thou king of hills, when Ryno lay on earth.
What muft the grief of Olfian be, for thou thyfslf art gone. I hear
not thy diftant voice on Cona. My eyes perceive thee not. Often
forlorn and dark I fit at thy tomb ; and feel it with my hands. When
I think I hear tliy voice ; it is but the blaft of the defart. Fingal
has long fince fallen afleep, the ruler of the war.
Then Gaul and Offian fat with Swaran on the foft green banks
of Lubar. I touched the harp to pleafe the king. But gloomy
was his brow. He rolled his red eyes towards Lena. The hero
mourned his people.
I LIFTED my eyes to Cromla, and I faw the fon of generous Se-
mo. Sad and flow he retired from his hill towards the lonely
cave of Tura. He faw Fingal viftorious, and mixed his joy with
grief. The fun is bright on his armour, and Connal flowly fol-
lowed. They funk behind the hill like two pillars of the tire of
night : when winds purfue them over the mountain, and the flaming
heath refounds. Befide a flream of roaring foam his cave is in a
rock. One tree bends above it; and the ruftiing winds eccho.againft
its fides. Here rtfts the chief of Dunfcaich, the fon of generous
Semo. His thoughts are on the battles he loft ; and the tear is on
his cheek. Fie mourned the departure of his fame that fled like the
miftof Cona. O Bragela, thou art too far remote to cheer the foul
of the hero. But let him fee thy bright form in his foul ; that his
thoughts may return to the lonely fun-beam of Dunfcaich.
Who)
72 F I N G A L, Book V.
Who comes with the locks of age? It is the Ion of the fongs. Hail,
Carril of other times, thy voice is like the harp in the halls of Tura.
Thy words are pleafant as the fliower that falls on the fields of tlie
fun. Carril of the times of old, why comeft thou from the fon of
the generous Semo ?
Ossi AN king of iVords, replied the bard, thou befl: raifeft the fong.
Long haft thou been known to Carril, thou ruler of battles. Often
have I touched the harp to lovely Evirallin. Thou too haft often
accompanied my voice in Branno's hall of generous ihells. And
often, amidft our voices, was heard the mildeft Evirallin. One day
fhe fung of Cormac's fall, the youth that died for her love. I faw
the tears on her cheek, and on thine, thou chief of men. Her foul
was touched for the unhappy, though ftie loved him not. How fair
among a thoufand maids was the daughter of the generous Branno !
Bring not, Carril, I replied, bring not her memory to my mind.
My foul muft melt at the remembrance. My eyes muft have their
tears. Pale in the earth is fhe the foftly-bluftiing fair of my love.
But fit thou on the heath, O Bard, and let us hear thy voice. It
is pleafant as the gale of fpring that fighs on the hunter's ear ; when
he wakens from dreams of joy, and has heard the mufic of the fpi-
rits * of the hill.
* Others more mild What could It lefs when fpirits immortal
Retreated in a filent valley, fing fing ?
With notes angelical. Sufpended hell, and took with raviftiment
——The harmony, The thronging audience. Milton.
FINGAL,
( 7Z )
F I N G A L,
AN ANCIENT
EPIC POEM.
BOOK VI*.
THE clouds of night came rolling down and reft on Cromla's
dark-brown fteep. The ftars of the north arife over the rol-
ling of the waves of Ullin ; they fhew their heads of fire through
the flying mift of heaven. A diftant wind roars in the wood ; but
filent and dark is the plain of death.
Still on the darkening Lena arofe in my ears the tuneful voice
of Carril. He fung of the companions of our youth, and the days
of former years ; when we met on the banks of Lego, and feiit
round the joy of the fliell. Cromla, with its cloudy fteeps, anfwered
to his voice. The ghofts of thofe he fung came in their ruftling
blafts. They were feen to bend with joy towards the found of
their praife.
* This book opens with the fourth up in the poem. The fcene lies in the
night, and ends on the morning of the heath of Lena, and the mountain Cromla
fixth day. The time of five days, five on the coaft of Ulfter.
nights, and a part of the fixth day is taken
L . Be
74 F I N G A L, Book VI.
Be thy foul bleft, O Carril, in the midft of thy eddying winds,
O that thou wouldll: come to my hall when I am alone by night \
—And thou doft come, my friend, I hear often thy light hand on
my harp j when it hangs on the diflant wall, and the feeble found
touches my ear. Why doft thou not fpeak to me in my grief, and
tell when I iliall behold my friends ? But thou pafTeft away in thy
murmuring blall:; and thy wind whiftles through the gray hair
of Offian.
Now on the fide of Mora the heroes gathered to the feaft. A
thoufand aged oaks are burning to the wind. The ftrength * of
the fliells goes round. And the fouls of warriors brighten with joy.
But the king of Lochlin is filent, and forrow reddens in the eyes of
his pride. He often turned toward Lena and remembered that
he fell.
Fin GAL leaned on the fliield of his fathers. His gray locks flowly
waved on the wind, and glittered to the beam of night. He faw
the grief of Swaran, and fpoke to the firfl: of Bards.
Raise, UUin, raife the fong of peace, and footh my foul after
battle, that my ear may forget the noife of arms. And let a hun-
dred harps be near to gladden the king of Lochlin. He muft depart
from us with joy. None ever went lad from Fingal. Ofcar ! the
• By the ftrength of the (hell is meant our anceftors had them from the Romans,
the liquor the heroes drunk : of what kind if the)' had them at all. The Caledonians
it was, cannot be afccrtaineJ at this diftancc in their frequent incurfions to the province
of time. The tranflator has met with fe- might become acquainted with thofe con-
veral ancient poems tliat mention wax- veniencies of life, and introduce them into
lights and wine as common in the halls of their own country, among the booty which
Fingal. The names of both are borrowed they carried from South Britain.
from the Latin, which plainly (hews that
lightning
Book VI. A n E P I C P O E M. 75
lightning of my fword is againft the ftrong in battle ; but peaceful
it lies by my fide when warriors yield in war.
Tren'Mor*, faid the mouth of the fongs, lived in the days of
other years. He bounded over the waves of the north : companion
of the florm. The high rocks of the land of Lochlin, and its groves
of murmuring founds appeared to the hero through the mifl: -, — he
bound his white-bofomed fails. Trenmor purfued the boar that
roared along the woods of Gormal. Many had fled from its pre-
fence ; but the fpear of Trenmor flew it.
Three chiefs that beheld the deed, told of the mighty flranger.
They told that he fl;ood like a pillar of fire in the bright arms of his
valour. The king of Lochlin prepared the feaft, and called the
blooming Trenmor. Three days he feafted at Gormal's windy
towers ; and got his choice in the combat.
The land of Lochlin had no hero that yielded not to Trenmor.
The Ihell of joy went round with fongs in praiie of the king of
Morven; he that came over the waves, the firft of mighty men.
Now when the fourth gray morn arofe, the hero launched his fiiipj
and walking along the fllent fliore waited for the rufliing wind. For
loud and difliant he heard the blafl: murmuring in the grove.
Covered over with arms of fleel a fon of the woody Gormal
appeared. Red was his cheek and fair his hair. His flcin like the
fnow of Morven. Mild rolled his blue and (iniling eye when he
fpoke to the king of fwords.
* Trenmor was great grandfather to Finga], The Rory is introduced to facillt.Ue
the difmiflion of Swaran.
L 2 Stay,
76 F I N G A L, Book VL
Stay, Trenmor, ftay thou firft of men, thou hail not conquered
Lonval's fon. My fword has often met the brave. And the wife
fhun the ftrength of my bow.
Thou fair-haired youth, Trenmor replied, I will not fight with
Lonval's fon. Thine arm is feeble, fun-beam of beauty. Retire
to Gormal's dark-brown hinds.
But I will retire, replied the youth, with the fword of Tren-
mor ; and exult in the found of my fame. The virgins fhall gather
with fmiles around him who conquered Trenmor. They fhall figh
with the fighs of love, and admire the length of thy fpear ; when
I fhall carry it among thoufands, and lift the glittering point to-
the fun.
Thou fhalt never carry my fpear, faid the angry kingofMor-
ven. Thy mother (hall find thee pale on the fhore of the eccho-
ing Gormal ; and, looking over the dark- blue deep, fee the fails of
him that flew her fon.
I WILL not lift the fpear, replied the youth, my arm is not
ftrong with years. But v/ith the feathered dart, I have learned to
pierce a diftant foe. Throw down that heavy mail of fteel ; for
Trenmor is covered all over. 1 firft, will lay my mail on earth.
Throw now thy dart, thou king of Morven.
He faw the heaving of her breafi:. It was the fifterof the king.
— She had feen him in the halls of Gormal ; and loved his face of
youth. The fpear dropt from the hand of Trenmor : he bent
his red cheek to the ground, for he had feen her like a beam of light
o that
Book Vr. AnEPICPOEM. 77
that meets the fons of the cave, when they revifit the fields of the
fun, and bend their aching eyes.
Chief of the windy Morven, begun the maid of thearmsof fnow^
let me reft in thy bounding Hiip, far from the love of Corlo. For
he, like the thunder of the defart, is terrible to Inibaca. He loves
me in the gloom of his pride, and fliakes ten thoufand fpears.
Rest thou in peace, fJd the mighty Trenmor, behind the ihield
of my fathers. I will not fly froni the chief, though he fliakes ten
thouiand fpears.
Three days he waited on the fhore ^ and fent his horn abroad.
He called Corlo to battle from all his ecchoing hills. But Corlo
came not to battle. The king of Lochlin defcended. He feafted
on the roaring fliore j and gave the maid to Trenmor.
King of Lochlin, faid Fingal, thy blood flows in the veins of
thy foe. Our families met in battle, becaufe they loved the ftrife
of fpears. But often did they feaft in the hall; and fend round the
joy of the fliell. Let thy hce brighten with gladnefs, and thine
ear delight in the harp. Dreadful as the ftorm of thine ocean, thou
haft: poured thy valour forth ; thy voice has been like the voice of
thoufands when they engage in battle. Raife, to morrow, thy
white fails to the wind, thou brother of Agandecca. Bright as the
beam of noon fhe comes on my mournful foul. I have feen thy tears
for the fair one, and fpared thee in the halls of Starno ; when my
fword was red with flaughtsr, and my eye full of tears for the
maid. Or doft thou chufe the fight ? The combat which thy
fathers gave to Trenmor is thine : that thou mayeft depart renown-
ed like the fun fetting in the weft.
King
78 F I N G A L, Book VI.
King of the race of Morven, fald the chief of the waves of
Lochlin ; never will Swaran fight with thee, firft of a thoufand
heroes \ I have feen thee in the halls of Starno, and few were thy
years beyond my own. When fliall I, I fiid to my foul, lift the
Ipear like the noble Fingal ? We have fought heretofore, O warrior,
on the fide of the fliaggy Malmor ; after my waves had carried me
to thy halls, and the feafl of a thoufand fiiells was fpread. Let the
bards fend him who overcame to future years, for noble v/as the
ftrife of heathy Malmor.
But many of the fliips of Lochlin have loll: their youths on Lena.
Take thefe, thou king of Morven, and be the friend of Swaran.
And when thy fons lliall come to the moffy towers of Gormal ; the
feaft of jQiells fliall be fpread, and the combat offered on the vale.
Nor fhip, replied the king, fliall Fingal take, nor land of many
hills. The defart is enough to me with all its deer and woods. Rife
on thy waves again, thou noble friend of Agandecca. Spread thy
white fails to the beam of the morning, and return to the ecchoing
hills of Gormal.
Blest be thy foul, thou kingof fliells, faid Swaran of the dark-
brown fliield. In peace thou art the gale of fpring. In war the
mountain-ftorm. Take now my hand in friendihip, thou noble
king of Morven.
Let thy bards mourn thofe who fell. Let Erin give the fons of
Lochlin to earth ; and raife the mofly fiones of their fame. That
the children of the north hereafter may behold the place where their
fathers fought. And fome hunter may fay, when he leans on a
2 mofTy
Book VI. A N E P I C P O E M. 79
mofly tomb, here Fingal and Swaran fought, the heroes of other
years. Thus hereafter fliall he fliy, and our fame fliall laft for ever.
Swaran, faid the king of the hills, to-day our flime is greatefi:.
We Ihall pafs away like a dream. No found will be in the fields
of our battles. Our tombs will be loft in the heath. The huater
fliall not know the place of our reft. Our names may be heard in
the fong, but the ftrength of our arms will ceafe.
O OssrAN, Carril, and Ullin, you know of heroes that are no
more. Give us the fong of other years. Let the night pafs away on
the foujid, and morning return with joy.
We gave the fong to the kings, and a hundred harps accom-
panied our voice. The face of Swaran brightened like the full moon
of heaven, when the clouds vanifli away, and leave her calm and
broad in the midft of the fky.
It was then that Fingal fpoke to Carril the chief of other times.
Where is the fon of Semo j the king of the ifle of mift ? has he re-
tired, like the meteor of death, to the dreary cave of Tura ?
CucHULLiN, faid Carril of other times, lies in the dreary cave of
Tura. His hand is on the fword of his ftrength. His thoughts on
the battles which he loft. Mournful is the king of fpears, for he has
often been vidtorious. He fends the fword of his war to reft on
the fide of Fingal. For, like the ftorm of the defart, thou haft'
fcattered all his foes. Take, O Fingal, the fword of the hero ; for
his fame is departed like mift when it llies before the ruftling wind
of the vale.
Nor
«o F I N G A L, Book VI.
No : replied the king, Fingal fhall never take his fvvord. His
arm is mighty in war j and tell him his fame fhall never fail. Many
have been overcome in battle, that have fhone afterwards like the
fun of heaven.
O SwARAN, king of the refounding woods, give all thy grief
away. The vanquished, if brave, are renowned ; they are like
the fun in a cloud when he hides his face in the fouth, but looks
again on the hills of grafs.
Grumal was a chief of Cona. He fought the battle on e\'ery
coaft. His foul rejoiced in blood j his ear in the din of arms. He
poured his warriors on the founding Craca; and Craca's king met
him from his grove j for then within the circle of Brumo * he fpoke
to the flone of power.
Fierce was the battle of the heroes, for the maid of the breaft
of fnow. The fame of the daughter of Craca had reached Grumal
at the ftreams of Cona ; he vowed to have the white- bofomed maid,
or die on the ecchoing Craca. Three days they flrove together, and
Grumal on the fourth was bound.
Far from his friends they placed him in the horrid circle of
Brumo ; where often, they faid, the ghofts of the dead howled round
the (lone of their fear. But afterwards he flione like a pillar of the
light of heaven. They fell by his mighty hand, and Grumal had
his fame.
* This pafTage alludes to the religion of the king of Graca, Sec a note on a fimilar
fubjedl in the third book.
Raise,
Book VI. AnEPICPOEM. 8i
Raise, ye bards of other times, raife high the praife of heroes j
that my foul may fettle on their fame ; and the mind of S waran ceafe
to be fad.
They lay in the heath of Mora ; the dark winds ruftle over the
heroes. A hundred voices at once arofe, a hundred harps w^ere
Arung ; they fung of other times, and the mighty chiefs of for-
mer years.
When now fliall I hear the bard; or rejoice at the fame of my
fathers ? The harp is not ftrung on Morven ; nor the voice of mufic
raifed on Cona. Dead with the mighty is the bard ; and fame is in
the defart no more.
Morning trembles witli the beam of the eaft, and glimmers on
gray-headed Cromla. Over Lena is heard the horn of Swaran, and
the fbns of the ocean gather around. Silent and fad they mount
the wave, and the blaft of Ultin is behind their fails. White, as the
mift of Morven, they float along the fea.
Call, faid Fingal, call my dogs, the long-bounding fonsof the
chace. Call white-breafted Bran ; and the furly flrength of Luath.
Fillan, and Ryno — but he is not here ; my fon refts on the bed
of death. Fillan and Fergus, blow my horn, that the joy of the
chace may arife ; that the deer of Cromla may hear and ftart at the
lake of roes.
The flirill found fpreads along the wood. The fons of heathy
Cromla arife.— —A thoufand dogs fly off at once, gray-bounding
M through
S2 F I N G A L, Book VI.
through the divided lieath. A deer fell by every dog, and three by
the white-breafted Bran. He brought them, in their flight, to Fin-
gal, tlaat the joy of the king might be great.
One deer fell at the tomb of Ryno ; and the grief of Fingal re-
turned. He faw how peaceful lay the flone of him who was the
f5i-ft at the chace. No more flialt thou rife, O my fon, to par-
take of the feaft of Cromla. Soon will thy tomb be hid, and the
grafs grow rank on thy grave. The fons of the feeble fliall pafs
over it, and fliall not know that the mighty lie there.
OssiAN and Fillan, fons of my ftrength, and Gaul king of the
blue blades of war, let us afcend the hill to the cave of Tura, and
find the chief of the battles of Erin. Are thefe the walls of Tura,
gray and lonely they rife on the heath ? The king of fhells is fad, and
the halls are defolate. Come let us find the king of fwords, and
give him all our joy.
But is that Cuchullin, O Fillan, or a pillar of fmoke on the
heath ? The wind of Cromla is on my eyes, and I diftinguLOi not
my friend.
FiNGAL ! replied the youth, it is the fon of Semo. Gloomy
and fad is the hero ; his hand is on his fword. Hail to the fon of
battle, breaker of the fhields !
Hail to thee, replied Cuchullin, hail to all the fons of Morven.
Delightful is thy prefence, O Fingal, it is like the fun on Cromla ;
when the hunter mourns his abfence for a feafon, and fees him bc-
2 tween
Book VI. An E P I C P O E M. 83
tween the clouds. Thy fons are hke liars that attend thy courfe,
and give light in the night.
It is not thus thou haft feen me, O Fingal, returning from the
wars of the defart ; when the kings of the world * had fled, and joy
returned to the hill of hinds.
Manv are thy words, Cuchullin, faid Connan -f of the fmall re-
nown. Tliy words are many, fon of Semo, but where are thy
deeds in arms .'' Why did we come, over the ocean, to aid thy
feeble fword ? Thou flyeft to thy cave of forrow, and Connan fights
thy battles -, Refign to me thefe arms of light ; yield them, thou
fon of Erin.
No hero, replied the chief, ever fought the arms of Cuchullin ;
and had a thoufand heroes fought them it were in vain, thou gloo-
my youth. I fled not to the cave of forrow, as long as Erin's
warriors lived.
Youth of the feeble arm, faid Fingal, Connan, fay no more.
Cuchullin is renowned in battle, and terrible over the defart. Often
have I heard thy fame, thou ftormy chief of Inisfail. Spread now
thy white fails for the ifle of mifl:, and fee Bragela leaning on her
rock. Her tender eye is in tears, and the winds lift her long hair
from her heaving breaft. She liftens to the winds of night to hear
* This is the only paflage in the poem, - f Connan was of the family of Morni.
wherein the wars of Fingal againft the He is mentioned id feveral other poems,
Romans are alluded to : The Roman and always appears with the fame cha-
emperor is diCinguifhed in old compofition raider. The poet pafled him over in fi-
by the Uikof ii/igo/ttn wiM. lence till now, and his behaviour here
defervcs no better ufage.
M 2 the
84 F I N G A L, Book VI.
the voice of thy rowers * ; to hear the fong of the fea, and the found
of thy diftant harp.
And long fhall flie Hflen. in vain; CuchulHn fliall never return.
How can I behold Bragek to raife the figh of her breaft ? Fingal,
I was always victorious in the battles of other fpears !
And hereafter thou flialt be viftorious, faid Fingal king of fliells.
The fame of CuchuUin fhall grow like the branchy tree of Cromla.
Many battles await thee, O chief, and many fliall be the wounds of
thy hand.
Bring hither, Ofcar, the deer, and prepare the feafl of fliells ;
that our fouls may rejoice after danger, and our friends delight in
our prefence.
We fat, we feafted, and we fung. The foul of Cuchullin rofe.
The fl:rength of his arm returned ; and gladnefs brightened on
his face.
Ullin gave the fong, and Carril raifed the voice. I, often, join-
ed the bards, and fung of battles of the fpear. Battles ! where I
often fought ; but now I fight no more. The fame of my former
adtions is ceafed ; and I fit forlorn at the tombs of my friends.
Th u s they paffed the night in the fong ; and brought back the
morning with joy. Fingal arofe on the heath, and fliook his glit-
tering fpear in his hand. He moved firfl: toward the plains of
Lena, and we followed like a ridge of fire.
• Theprafliceof finging when they row northweft coaft of Scotland and the ifles.
is univerfal among the inhabitants of the It deceives time, and infpirits the rowers,
Spreao
Book VI.
An EPIC POEM.
»5
Spread the fail, faid the Jdng of Morven, and catch the winds
that pour from Lena. We rofe on the wave with fongs, and
rufhed, with joy, through the foam of the ocean *.
* It is allowed by the beft critics that
an epic poem ought to end happily. This
rule, in its moft material circumftances, is
obferved by the three moft defer\'edly ce-
lebrated poets, Homer, Virgil, and Mil-
ton ; yet, I know not how it happens, the
conclufions of their poems throw a me-
lancholy damp on the mind. One leaves
his reader at a funeral ; another at the un-
timely death of a hero ; and a third in the
folitary fcenes of an unpeopled world.
Hi n'l'y a'ju^iWou TCc(po'j "Exloea l-mro-
J'ajuoio. Homer.
Such honours Ilion to her hero paid.
And peaceful flept the mighty Heftor's
(hade. Pope,
Ferrum adverfofub peiiore condit
Fervidus. AJi illi folvuntur frigore membra,
Vitaque cum gemitufugit indignatafub umbras.
Virgil.
He rais'd his arm aloft ; and at the word
Deep in his bofom drove the fhining fword.
The flreaming blood diftain'd his arms
around.
And the difdainful foul came rufhlng thro^
the wound. Uryden.
They, hand in hand, with wand'ring fteps
and flow.
Through Eden took their folitary way.
MiLT&N.
COMAL A
C 87 )
C O M A L A
DRAMATIC POEM*.
®@®®-S®®@^'®'®^^®®®®@-^®®0®©®©®^'^0®©©®®m^
The PERSONS.
FiNGAL. Melilcoma, T daughters of
HiDALLAN. Dersagrena,) Momi.
CoMALA. Bards.
Dersagrena.
THE chace is over. — No noife on Ardven but the torrent's roar l
Daughter of Morni, come from Crona's banks. Lay-
down the bow and take the harp. Let the night come on with
fongs, and our joy be great on Ardven.
MeLILC0I\1A»
* This poem is valuable on account of that the poem was originally fet to mufic^
the light it throws on the antiquity of Of- and perhaps prefented before the chiefs
fian's compofitions. The Caracul men- upon folemn occafions. Tradition has
tioned here is the fame with Caracalia the handed down theftory more complete than
fon of Severus, who in the year 21 1 com- it is in the poem. — " Comala, the daughter
manded an expedition againft the Caledo- of Sarno king of Iniflore or Orkney iflands,
slzas. — The variety of the meafure fliews fell in love with Fingal the fon of Comhal
atL
O M
A:
Melilcoma *.
And night comes on, thou blue-eyed maid, gray night grows
dim along the plain. I faw a deer at Crona's ftream; a molly bank
he feemed through the gloom, but foon he bounded away. A me-
teor played round his branchy horns ; and the awful faces -f- of other
times looked from the clouds of Crona.
Dersagrena X-
These are the figns of Fingal's death. The king of fliields is
fallen! — and Caracul prevails. Rife, Comala ||, from thy rocks;
daughter of Sarno, rife in tears. The youth of thy love is low, and
his ghofl is already on our hills.
Melilcoma.
There Comala fits forlorn ! two gray dogs near fliake their
rough ears, and catch the flying breeze. Her red cheek refts on
her arm, and the mountain wind is in her hair. She turns her blue-
at a feaft, to which her father had invited
him, [ Fingal, B. III. ] upon his rtturn
from Lochlin, after the death of Agan-
decca. Her palfion was fo violent, that fhe
followed him, difguifed like a youth, who
wanted to be employed in his wars. She
was foon difcovered by Hidallan the fon of
Lamor, one of Fingal's heroes, whofe love
Ihe had flighted fome time before— Her ro-
mantic palTion and beauty recommended
her fo much to the king, that he had re-
folved to make her his wife ; when news
was brought him of Caracul's expedition.
He marched to flop the progrefs of the
enemy, and Comala attended him.
He left her on a hill, within fight of Cara-
cul's army, when he himfelf went to battle,
having previoufly promifed, if he furvived,
to return that night." The fequel of the
flory may be gathered from the poem itfelf.
* Melilcoma, — ■foft-rolUng eye.
t Jpparent dira/ades, ininucaque Troja
Numina magna deuin, ViRG.
dreadful founds I hear.
And the dire forms of hoftile gods appear.
Drvden".
X Derfagrena, the brighirufs of a fun-
beam.
II Comala, the maid of ihe fkafant Irmv.
rolling
A D R A M A T I C P O E M. Sg
rolling eyes toward the fields of his promife. Where art thou,
O Fingal, for the night is gathering around ?
Com A LA.
O Car UN * of the ftreams ! why do I behold thy waters rolling
in blood ? Has the noife of the battle been heard on thy banks ; and
fleeps the king of Morven ? Rife, moon, thou daughter of the
Iky ! look from between thy clouds, that I may behold the light of
his fteel, on the field of his promife. — Or rather let the meteor, that
lights our departed fathers through the night, come, with its red
light, to fhew me the way to my fallen hero. Who will defend me
from forrow ? Who from the love of Hidallan ? Long fliall Comala
look before fhe can behold Fingal in the midft of his hoft ; bright
as the beam of the morning in the cloud of an early fliower.
Hidallan -f-.
Roll, thou mift of gloomy Crona, roll on the path of the hun-
ter. Hide his fteps from mine eyes, and let me remember my
friend no more. The bands of battle are fcattered, and no crowding
fteps are round the noife of his fteel. O Carun, roll thy ftreams of
blood, for the chief of the people fell.
* Carun or Cara'on, a winding river. — f Hidallan was fent by Fingal to give
This river retains ftill the name of Carron, notice to Comala of his return ; he, to re-
and falls into the Forth fome miles to th€ vcnge himfelf on her for flighting hii love
North of Falkirk. fome time before, told her that the king
Gentefque alias turn pellerei armis was killed in battle. He even pretended
Sedibus,autvi!lasviUmfervaretlnufum that he carried his body from the field to
Servitii, hie ccntenta fuos difendere finis be buried in her prefence ; and this clr-
Rimafecurigeiis pratendit mania Scctis : cumftance makes it probable that the poem
Hicjpeprogrejfuspofita, Caronis ad undam was prcfented of old
Terminus Aufonii fignat divortia regni.
Buchanan.
N Com.-^la.
90 C O M A L A:
COMALA.
Who fell on Carun's grafly banks, fon of the cloudy night ? Was
- he white as the fnow of Ardven ? Blooming as the bow of the
iliower ? Was his hair like the mifl of the hill, foft and curling in
the day of the fun ? Was he like the thunder of heaven in battle ?
Fleet as the roe of the defart ?
Hid ALL AN.
O THAT I might behold his love, fair-leaning from her rock !
Her red eye dim in tears, and her blufliing cheek half hid in her
locks ! Blow, thou gentle breeze, and lift the heavy locks of the
maid, that I may behold her white arm, and lovely cheek of her
forrow !
CoMALA.
And is the fon of Comhal fallen, chief of the mournful tale?
The thunder rolls on the hill ! The lightening flies on wings of
fire ! But they frighten not Comala ; for her Fingal fell. Say, chief
of the mournful tale, fell the breaker of the fliields ?
Hi DAL LAN.
The nations are fcattered on their hills ; for they fhall hear the
voice of the chief no more.
Comala.
Confusion purfue thee over thy plains ; and deftru(3;ion overtake
thee, thou king of the world. Few be thy fteps to thy grave ; and
let one virgin mourn thee. Let her be, like Comala, tearful in the
days of her youth. Why haft thou told me, Hidallan, that my
hero fell ? I might have hoped a little while his return, and have
thought I faw him on the diftant rock ; a tree might have deceived
mc with his appearance ; and the wind of the hill been the found
of
A D R A M A T I C P O E M. 91
of his horn In mine ear. O that I were on the banks of Carun !
that my tears might be warm on his cheek !
HiDALLLAN.
He lies not on the banks of Carun : on Ardven heroes raife his
tomb. Look on them, O moon, from thy clouds ; be thy beam
bright on his breaft, that Comala may behold him in the light of
his armour.
Comala.
Stop, ye fons of the grave, till I behold my love. He left me
at the chace alone. I knew not that he went to war. He faid he
would return with the night ; and the king of Morven is returned.
Why didft thou not tell me that he would fall, O trembling fon of
the rock * ! Thou haft feen him in the blood of his youth, but
thou didft not tell Comala !
Melilcoma.
What found is that on Ardven ? Who is that bright in the
vale ? Who comes like the ft:rength of rivers, when their crowded
waters glitter to the moon ?
Comala.
Who is it but the foe of Comala, the fon of the king of the
world ! Ghoft of Fingal ! do thou, from thy cloud, direft Comala's
bow. Let him fall like the hart of the defart. It is Fingal in
the crowd of his ghofts, — Why doft thou come, my love, to frighten
and pleafe my foul ?
* By the fon of the rock (he means a beginning of the reign of Fingal ; and that
druid. It is probable that fome of the or- Comala hid confulted one of them con-
der of the druids remained as late as the cerning the event of the war with Caracul.
N 2 Fingal.
92 C O M A L A:
FiN'GAI..
Raise, ye bards of the fong, the wars of the ftreamy Carun.
Caracul has fled from my arms along the fields of his pride. He
fets far diftant like a meteor that inclofes a fpirit of night, when
the winds drive it over the heath, and the dark woods are gleam-
ing around.
I HEARD a voice like the breeze of my hills. Is it the hunt refs
of Galmal, the white-handed daughter of Sarno ? Look from thy
rocks *, my love ; and let me hear the voice of Comala.
COMALA.
Take me to the cave of thy reft, O lovely fon of death !— —
FiNGAL,
Come to the cave of my reft. The ftorm Is over -f-, and the fun
is on our fields. Come to the cave of my reft, huntrefs of ec-
choing Cona.
CoMALA.
He Is returned with his fame ; I feel the right hand of his battles.
But I muft reft befide the rock till my foul fettle from fear. —
Let the harp be near ; and raife the fong, ye daughters of Morni.
Dersagrena.
Comala has flain three deer on Ardven, and the fire afcends on
the rock ; go to the feaft of Comala, king of the woody Morven !
* O my dove that art in the clefts of the + The winter is paft, the rain is over
rock, in the kciti places of the flairs, let me and gone.
fee thy countenance, let me hear thy voice. Solomon's Song.
Solomon's Song.
FlNGAL^
A DRAMATIC POEM. 93
FlNGAL.
Raise, yc fons of the fong, the wars of theflreamy Carun; that
my white-handed maid may rejoice : while I behold the feaft of
my love.
Bards.
Roll, ftreamy Carun, roll in joy, the fons of battle fled. The
fteed is not feen on our fields ; and the wings * of their pride fpread
in other lands. The fun will now rife in peace, and the fhadows
defcend in Joy. The voice of the chace will be heard ; and the
fhields hang in the hall. Our delight will be in the war of the
ocean, and our hands be red in the blood of Lochlin. Roll, ftreamy
Carun, roll in joy, the fons of battle fled.
Melilcoma.
Descend, ye light mifts from high; ye moon-beams, lift her
foul. Pale lies the maid at the rock ! Comala is no more !
FiNGAL.
Is the daughter of Sarno dead ; the white-bofomed maid of my
love ? Meet me, Comala, on my heaths, when I fit alone at the
flreams of my hills.
HiDALLAN.
Ceased the voice of the huntrefs of Galmal ? Why did I trouble
the foul of the maid ? When fhall I fee thee, with joy, in the chace
of the dark-brown hinds ?
FingAl.
Youth of the gloomy brow! no more flialt thou feaft in my
halls. Thou flialt not purfue my chace, and my foes fhall not fall
-^ Peihaps the poet aJludes to tbe Roman eaele,
by
94 C O M A L A.
by thy fword *. Lead me to the place of her reft that I may be-
hold her beauty. Pale fhe lies at the rock, and the co!d winds
lift her hair. Her bow-ftring founds in the blaft, and her arrow
was broken in her fall. Raife the praife of the daughter of Sarno,
and give her name to the wind of the hills.
Bards.
See! meteors roll around the maid; and moon-beams lift her
foul ! Around her, from their clouds, bend the awful faces of her
fathers ; Sarno -f- of the gloomy brow ; and the red-rolling eyes of
Fidallan. When fliall thy white hand arife, and thy voice be heard
on our rocks ? The maids fliall feek thee on the heath, but they will
not find thee. Thou flialt, come, at times, to their dreams, and
fettle peace in their foul. Thy voice fliall remain in their ears :{:,
and they fliall think with joy on the dreams of their reft. Meteors
roll around the maid, and moon-beams lift her foul !
* The fequel of the ftory of Hidallan is allan was the firft king that reigned ia
introduced, as an epifode, in the poem Iniftore.
which immediately follows in this col- $ The angel ended, and in Adam's ear
lection. So charming left his voice, that he a while
■ + Sarno the father of Comala died foon Thought him ftill fpealcing, flill flood fix'd
after the flight of his daughter. Fid- to hear. Milton.
TH E
( 95 )
THE
WAR of CAROS*:
A POEM.
BRING, daughter ofTofcar, bring the harp j the Ught of the
fong rifes in Offian's foul. It is Hke the field, when darknefs
covers the hills around, and the fhadow grows flowly on the plain
of the fun.
I BEHOLD my fon, O Malvina, near the moffy rock of Crona -f- j
but it is the mift J of the defart tinged with the beam of the wefl :
Lovely is the mift that affumes the form of Ofcar ! turn from it, ye
winds, when ye roar on the fideof Ardven.
Who comes towards my fon, with the murmur of a fong ? His
ftaffis in his hand, his gray hair loofe on the wind. Surly joy
* Caros is probably the noted ufurper party under the command of Ofcar the fon
Caraufius, by btrth a Menapian, who af- of Offian. This battle is the foundation
fumed the purple in the year 284; and, of the prefent poem, which is addrelTed to
feizing on Britain, defeated the emperor Malvina the daughter of Tofcar.
Maximian Herculius in feveral naval en- f Crona is the name of a fmall ftream
gagements, which gives propriety to his which runs into the Carron. On its
being called in this poem the king ofjhips. "banks is the fcene of the preceding drama-
•— — He repaired Agricola's wall, in order tic poem.
to obftruft the incurfions of the Caledo- J Who is this that cometh out of the
nians ; and when he was employed in that wildernefs like pillars of fmoke.
work, it appears he was attacked by a Solomon's Song.
I lightens
96 The WAR of C A R O S :
lightens his face; and he often looks back to Caros. It is Ryno *
of the fong, he that went to view the foe.
What does Caros king of fliips, faid the fon of the now mourn-
ful Offian ? fpreads he the wings -f of his pride, bard of the times
of old ?
He fpreads them, Ofcar, replied the bard, but it is behind his
gathered heap :{;. He looks over his ftones with fear, and beholds
thee terrible, as the ghofl of night that rolls the wave to his (liips.
Go, thou firftof my bards, fays Ofcar, and take the fpear of Fin-
gal. Fix a flame on its point, and fliake it to the winds of heaven.
Bid him, in fongs, to advance, and leave the rolling of his wave.
Tell to Caros that I long for battle ; and that my bow is weary of
the- chace of Cona. Tell him the mighty are not here ; and that
my arm is young.
He went with the rrjurmur of his fong. Ofcar reared his voice
on high. It reached his heroes on Ardven, like the noife of a
cave II ; when the fea of Togorma rolls before it ; and its trees meet
the roaring winds.— —They gather round my fon like the ftreams
of the hill ; when, after rain, they roll in the pride of their courfc.
RvNO came to the mighty Caros, and flruck his flaming fpear.
Come to the battle of Ofcar, O thou that fittefl; on the rolling of
waters. Fingal is diflant far ; he hears the fongs of his bards in
* Ryno is often mentioned in the an- % Agricola's wall which Caraufius re-
cient poetry. He feems to have been paired.
a bard, of the firft ranic, in the days of || —As when the hollow rocks retain
Fingal. The found of bluftering winds. —
t The Roman eagle Milton.
Morven :
A P O E M. 97
Morven : and the wind of his hall is in his hair. His terrible fpear
is at his fide j and his fhield that is like that darkened moon. Come
to the battle of Ofcar ; the hero is alone.
He came not over the ftreamy Carun * j the bard returned with
his fong. Gray night grows dim on Crona. The feafl: of fhells
is fpread. A hundred oaks burn to the wind, and faint light gleams
over the heath. The ghofls of Ardven pafs through the beam, and
fhew their dim and diftant forms. Comala -f is half-unfeen on her
meteor ; and Hidallan is fuUen and dim, like the darkened moon
behind the mift: of night.
Why art thou fad? fiid Ryno; for he alone beheld the chief.
Why art thou fad, Hidallan, haft thou not received thy fame ? The
fongs of Offian have been heard, and thy ghoft has brightened in
the wind, when thou didft bend from thy cloud to hear the fong of
Morven's bard.
And do thine eyes behold the hero, faid Ofcar, like the dim
meteor of night ? Say, Ryno, fay, how fell the chief that was fo re-
nowned in the days of our fathers ? His name remains on the
rocks of Cona ; and I have often ken the ftreams of his hills.
Fin GAL, replied the bard, had driven Hidallan from his wars.
The king's foul was fad for Comala, and his eyes could not behold
Hidallan.
* The river Carron. order to introduce the fequel of Hidallan's
t This is the fcene of Cotnala's death, ftory, who, on account of her death, had
which is the fubjeil of the dramatic poem, been expelled from the wars of Fingal.
— The poet mentions her in this place, in
O Lonely,
98 The WAR of C A R O S :
Lonely, fad along the heath he flowly moved with filent fteps.
His arms hang difordered on his fide. His hair flies loofe from his
helmet. The tear is in his down-caft eyes 3 and the figh half-filent
in his breaft.
Three days he flrayed unfeen, alone, before he came to La-
mor's halls : the moffy halls of his fathers, at the ftreani of Balva*.
There Lamor fat alone beneath a tree ; for he had fent his
people with Hidallan to war. The ftream ran at his feet, and his
gray head refted on his flafF. Sightlefs are his aged eyes. He
hums the fong of other times. The noife of Hidallan's feet came
to his ear : he knew the tread of his fon.
Is the fon of Lamor returned ; or is it the found of his ghofl r
Haft thou fallen on the banks of Carun, fon of the aged Lamor .''
Or, if I hear the found of Hidallan's feet ; where are the mighty in
the war ? where are my people, Hidallan, that were wont to return
with their echoing fliields ? Have they fallen on the banks
of Carun .?
No : replied the fighing youth, the people of Lamor live. They
are renowned in battle, my Euher ; but Hidallan is renowned no
more. I muft fit alone on the banks of Balva, when the roar of the
battle grows.
But thy fathers never fat alone, replied the riling pride of La-
mor ; they never fat alone on the banks of Balva, when the roar of
battle rofe. Doft thou not behold that tomb .'' My eyes difcern
* This is perhaps that fmall Ibeam, tivar in Stirlingfhire. Balva fignifies a
flill retaining the name of Balva, which filent flream ; and Glentivar, the Jiquejltrei
runs through the romantic valley of Glen- vaU,
it
A P O E M. 99
it not; there refls the noble Garmallon who never fled from war.
Come, thou renowned in battle, he fays, come to t^y father's
tomb. How am I renowned, Garmallon, for my fon has fled
from war ?
King of the ftreamy Balva ! fud Hidallan with a figh, why doll
thou torment my foul ? Lamor, I never feared. — Fingal was fad for
Comala, and denied his wars to Hidallan ; go to the gray flreams
of thy land, he faid, and moulder like a leaflefs oak, which the
winds have bent over Balva, never more to grow.
And mull: I hear, Lamor replied, the lonely tread of Hidallan's
feet ? When thoufands are renowned in battle, ihall he bend over
my gray ftreams .'' Spirit of the noble Garmallon ! carry Lamor to
his place; his eyes are dark; his foul is fad; and his fon has loft
his fame.
Where, faid the youth, fliall I fearch for fame to gladden the
foul of Lamor ? From whence fliall I return with renown, that the
found of my arms may be pleafant in his ear ? If I go to the
chace of hinds, my name will not be heard. — Lamor will not feel
my dogs, with his hand?, glad at my arrival from the hill. He will
not enquire of his mountains, or of the dark-brown deer of his
defarts.
I MUST fall, faid Lamor, like a leaflefs oak : it grew on a rock,
but the winds have overturned it. My ghoft will be feen on
my hills, mournful for my young Hidallan. Will not ye, ye mifts, as
ye rife, hide him from my fight ? My fon ! — go to Lamor's
hall : there the arms of our fathers hang. — Bring the fword of Gar-
mallon ; — he took it from a foe.
O 2 He
loo The WARofCAROS:
He went and brought the fword with all its ftudded thongs.- ■
He gave it to his father. The gray-haired hero felt the point with
his hand.
My fon ! — lead me to Garmallon's tomb : it rifes befide that riill:-
ling tree. The long grafs is withered ; — I heard the breeze whir-
ling there. — A little fountain murmurs near, and fends its water to
Balva. There let me reft ; it is noon : and the fun is on our fields.
He led him to Garmallon's tomb. Lamor pierced the fide of his
fon. They fleep together : and their ancient halls moulder on
E;'.lya's banks. — Ghofts are feen there at noon : the valley is filent,
and the people ihun the place of Lamor.
Mournful is thy tale, faid Ofcar, fon of the times of old ! —
My foul fighs for Hidallan ; he fell in the days of his youth. He
flies on the blaft of the defart, and his wandering is in a foreign
land.
Sons of the ecchoing Morven ! draw near to the foes of Fingal.
Send the night away in fongs ; and watch the ftrength of Caros.
Ofcar goes to the people of other times ; to the fliades of filent Ard-
ven ; where his fathers fit dim in their clouds, and behold the future
war. — And art thou there, Hidallan, like a half-extinguiflied meteor ?
Come to my fight, in thy forrow, chief of the roaring Balva !
The heroes move with their fongs. — Ofcar flowly afcends the
hill. — The meteors of night fet on the heath before him. A diftant
torrent faintly roars. — Unfrequent blafts rufli through aged oaks.
The half-enlightened moon finks dim and red behind her hill. —
Feeble voices are heard on the heath. Ofcar drew his fword.
I Come,
A POEM. 101
Come, faid the hero, O ye ghofts of my fathers ! ye that fought
againft the kings of the world ! — Tell me the deeds of future times ;
and your converfe in your caves ; when you talk together and behold
your fons in the fields of the valiant.
Trenmor came, from his hill, at the voice of his mighty fon. —
A cloud, like the fteed of the ftranger, fupported his airy limbs.
His robe is of the mift of Lano, that brings death to the people.
His fword is a green meteor half-extinguifhed. His face is with-
out form, and dark. He fighed thrice over the hero : and thrice
the winds of the night roared around. Many were his words to
Ofcar : but they only came by halves to our ears : they were dark
as the tales of other times, before the light of the fong arofe. He
flowly vanilhed, like a milt that melts on the funny hill.
It was then, O daughter of Tofcar, my fon begun firft to be fad.
He forelaw the fall of his race ; and, at times, he was thoughtful
and dark ; like the fun * when he carries a cloud on his face ; but
he looks afterwards on the hills of Cona.
Oscar paffed the night among his fathers, gray morning met
him on the banks of Carun.
A GREEN vale furrounded a tomb which arofe in the times of old.
Little hiils lift their head at a diftance ; and ftretch their old trees
to the wind. The warriors of Caros fat there, for they had paffed
the ftream by night. They appeared, like the trunks of aged pines,
to the pale light of the morning.
Oscar flood at the tomb, and raifed thrice his terrible voice.
The rocking hiils ecchoed around : the flarting roes bounded away.
* —— caput obfcura nltidum ferruglne texit. Virg.
And
102
The WAR of C A R O S
And the trembling ghofts of the dead fled, fhrieking on' their clouds.
So terrible was the voice of my fon, when he called his friends.
A TnousANofpears rofe around; the people of Caros rofe. — Why,
daughter of Tofcar, why that tear ? My fon, though alone, is brave.
Ofcar is like a beam of the fky ; he turns around and the people fall,
riis hand is like the arm of a ghoft, when he itretches it from a cloud :
the relt of his thin form is unfecn : but the people die in the vale.
iVIv fon beheld the approach of the foe; and he flood in the fi-
lent darknefs of his ftrength. " Am I alone, faid Ofcar, in the
rnidft of a thoufand foes : — Many a fpear is there ! — many a darkly-
rolling eye ! — Shall I fly to Ardven ? — But did my fathers ever fly !
The mark of their arm is in a thoufand battles. — Ofcar too will
be renowned. Come, ye dim ghoflis of my fathers, and behold
my deeds in war ! — I may fall ; but I will be renowned like the
race of the ecchoii'jg Morven *".
He fliood, growing in his place, like the flood of the narrow vale.
The battle came, but they fell : bloody was the fword of Ofcar.
The nolle reached his people at Crona ; they came like a hundred
ftreams. The warriors of Caros fled, and Ofcar remained like a
rock left by the ebbing fea.
* This pafiage is very like the foliloquy What danger, fingly if I (land the ground,
of UlylTes upon a fimilar occafion. My friends all fcatter'd, all the foes around?
"ilty-oi £}-M, Ti' tra'9j ; fAiyx u.h xxx^v. Yet wherefore doubtfu! ? let this truth
aixi (plSuy-xi, fuiBce ;
nAr;Ov\ rapt jiV^,; • to of p'lj'ion «ix£'j u.Kou) The brave meets danger, and ihecoward flies :
Mkvcj- &c. Hom. II. II. To die or ccnquer proves a hero's heart.
What farther fubterfuge, what hopes remain? Ana kncwirg ihis, 1 know a foldier's part.
AN'hat Ihame, inglorious if I quit the plain ? Pope.
8 Now
A P O E M. 103
Now dark and deep, with all his fteeds, Caros rolled his might
along : the little ftreams are loft in his courfe ; and the earth is rock-
ing round. Battle fpreads from wing to wing : ten thoufand
fwords gleam at once in the fky. But why fliould OlTian fing of
battles ? — For never more fliall my fteel fliine in war. I remember
the days of my youth with forrow ; when I feel the weaknefs of my
arm. Happy are they who fell in their youth, in the midft of their
renown ! — They have not beheld the tombs of their friend : or fail-
ed to bend the bow of their ftrength. Happy art thou, O Of-
car, in the midft of thy rufhing blaft. Thou often goeft to the
fields of thy fame, where Caros fled from thy lifted fword.
Darkness comes on my foul, O fair daughter of Tofcar, I be-
hold not the form of my fon at Carun ; nor the figure of Ofcar on
Crona. The ruftling winds have carried him far away ; and the
heart of his father is fad.
But lead me, O Malvina, to the found of my woods, and the
roar of my mountain ftreams. Let the chace be heard on Conaj
that I may think on the days of other years. — And bring me the
harp, O maid, that I may touch it when the light of my foul ftiall
arife. Be thou near, to learn the fong ; and future times fhall
hear of Ofiian.
The fons of the feeble hereafter will lift the voice on Cona;
and, looking up to the rocks, fay, " Here Oflian dwelt." They
fliall admire the chiefs of old, and the race that are no more :
while we ride on our clouds, Malvina, on the wings of the roaring
winds. Our voices ftiall be heard, at times, in the defart ; and we
fliall fing on the winds of the rock.
THE
( 104 )
THE
WAR of INIS-THONA*:
A POEM.
OUR youth is like the dream of the hunter on the hill of heath.
He fleeps in the mild beams of the fun ; but he awakes amidfl
a ftorm ; the red lightning flies around : and the trees ihake their
heads to the wind. He looks back with joy, on the day of the
fun ; and the pleafant dreams of his reft !
When fliall OlTian's youth return, or his ear delight in the found
of arms ? When fhall I, like Ofcar, travel -j- in the light of my
fteel ? — Come, with your ftreams, ye hills of Cona, and liften to
the voice of OlTian ! The fong rifes, like the fun, in my foul ; and
my heart feels the joys of other times.
I BEHOLD thy towers, O Selma ! and the oaks of thy fhaded
wall : — thy ftreams found in my ear j thy heroes gather round.
Fingal fits in the midft ; and leans on the fliield of Trenmor : — his
H. * Inis-thona, /. t. the ijland cf waves, woven. The work itfelf is loft, but fome
was a country of Scandinavia fubjefl to its epifodes, and the ftory of the poem, are
own king, but depending upon the icing- handed down by tradition. There are
dom of Lochlin. — This poem is an epifode fome now living, who, in their youth, have
introduced in a great work compofed by heard the whole repeated.
Oflian, in which the aflions of his friends, f Travelling in the greatnefs of his
and his beloved fon Ofcar, were inter- ftrength. Isaiah l.xiii. i.
fpear
A P O E M. yj,^
fpear lliinds againil the wall ; he Hilens to the long of his bards
The deeds of his arm are heard ; and the adions of the king in
his youth.
Oscar had returned from the chace, and heard the hero's praife.
— He took the fhield of Branno * from the wall ; his eyes were
filled with tears. Red was the cheek of youth. His voice was
trembling, low. My fpear fliook its bright head in his hand : he
ipoke to Morven's king.
Fin GAL ! thou king of heroes ! Oflian, next to him in war ! ye
have fought the battle in your youth ; your names are renowned in
the fong. — Ofcar is like the milt of Cona ; I appear and vanifh. — •
The b^ird will not know my name. — The hunter will not fearch ia
the heath for my tomb. Let me fight, O heroes, in the battles of
Inis-thona. Diftant is the land of my war ! — ye fhall not hear of
Ofcar's fall. Some bard may find me there, and give my name
to the fong. — The daughter of the ftranger Ihall fee my tomb, and
weep over the youth that came from afar. The bard fliall fay, at
the feaft, hear the fong of Ofcar from the diflant land !
Oscar, replied the king of Morven ; thou fhalt fight, fon of my
fame ! — Prepare my dark-bofomed ihip to carry my hero to Inis-
thona. Son of my fon, regard our fame ; — for thou art of the race
of renown. Let not the children of ftrangers fay, feeble are the
fons of Morven ! Be thou, in battle, like the roaring florm :
mild as the evening fun in peace. — Tell, Ofcar, to Inis-thona's king,
that Fingal remembers his youth ; when we ftrove in the combat
together in the days of Agandecca.
* This is Branno, the father of Everal- round the lake of Lego. — His great aiElions
lin, and grandfather to Ofcar ; he was of arc handed down by tradition, and his ho-
Irifli extraclion and lord of the country (pitality ha palTed iijto a proverb.
P Thev
ro6 The WAR of I N I S •- T PI O N A :
The V lifted up the founding fail ; the wind whiftled through the
thongs * of their mafts. Waves laflithe oozy roclcs : the ftrength of
ocean roars. My fon beheld, from the wave, the land of groves.
He rufhed into the ecchoing bay of Runa ; and fent his fword to
Annir king of fpears.
The gr.>y-halred hero rofe, when he faw the fword of FingaL
His eyes were full of tears, aad he remembered the battles of their
youth. Twice they lifted the fpear before the lovely Agandecca :
heroes flood far diftant, as if two ghofts contended.
But now, begun the king, I am old ; the fword lies ufelefs in my
hall. Thou who art of Morven's race ! Annir has beea in the ftrife
of fpears ; but he is pale and withered now, like the oak of Lano.
I have no fon to meet thee witli joy, or to carry thee to the halls of
his fathers. Argon is pale in the tomb, and Ruro is no more.—
My daughter is in the hall of ftrangers, and longs to behold my
tomb. Her fpoufe rt^akes ten thouland fpears j and comes -f- like
doud of death from Lano. — Come, to fliare the feaft of Annir, fon
of ecchoing Morven.
Three days they fealled together j on the fourth Annir heard
the name of Ofcar. — They rejoiced iu the fliell '^ ; and purfued the
boars of Runa.
* Leather thongs were ufed in Oflian's pleat vicloiy. An end was put to the war
time, iniiead of ropes. by the death ofCormalo, who fell in a fingle
f Cormalo had refoived on a war againQ combat, by Ofcar's hand. — Thus is the
iiis father in law Annir king of Inis ihona, ftory dcliverei* down by tradition ; though
in order to deprive him of his kingdom : the poet, to raife the charaiflcr of his foi>,
the injuftice of his defigns was fo much re- makes Ofcar himfelf propofe the expcditioru
tented by Finga)-, that he fent his grandfbn, % To rejoice in //a- /.// is a phrafe for
Ofcar, to the airulance of Annir. Both ar- feafting fumptuoufly and drinking freely,
aiies came fooii to a baitle, in which the I have obferved in a preceding note, thai
toaduSaaJ valour of Olcar obtained acorn- the ancient Scots drunk in fliells.
1 Beside
A POEM. 107
Beside the fount of moliy rtones, the weary heroes reft. The tear
fteals in fecret from Annir : and he broke the rifing figh. Here
darkly reft, the hero laid, the children of my youth. — This ftone is
the tomb of Ruro : that tree founds over the grave of Argon. Do
ye hear my voice, O my fons, within your narrow houfe ? Or do
ye {peok in thefe ruftling leaves, when the winds of the defart rife ?
King of Inis-thona, faid Ofcar, how fell the children of youth ?
The wild boar often ruftaes over their tombs, but he does not di-
fturb the hunters. They purfue deer * formed of clouds, and bend
their airy bow. — They ftill love the Iport of their youth ; and mount
the wind with joy.
* The notion of Oflian concerning the The love of horfes which they had, alive,
flate of the deceafed, was the fame with And care of chariots, after death furvive.
that of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Drvden.
They imagined that the fouls purfued, in Toi/ Si fur u<r£i>or,iTxv ftw 'Hpxy.>.7te!t!v,
their feparate ftate, the employments and EiSu^w.
pleafures of their former life. 0 f, taij-r^ ^uktI loiKut
/irma proc'ul,currufque virum miratur Inanis, Tvixvcii ri^ot/ £%ui', xx.] nrt vi-jp^iprj olrov
Slant terra defixa bafa, pajfimque folnti Afivw is-aTrlai'viji/, aui (ixXiovn loiyiu;. Sec.
PtT campum pafcuntur cqui^ qua gratia Ho.M. OdyfT ii.
turruum Now I the ftrcngth of Hercules behold,
Armorumque fuit viv'ts ; qua cura mteniis A tow'ring fpeiSre of gigantic mold ;
Pa/cere equss, eadem fequitur ullure rep'Jlos. Gloomy as night he ftands in aft to throv?
V^iRG. Th' aerial arrow from the twanging bow.
The chief beheld their chariots from afar ; Around his breaft a wond'rous zone is roll'd
Their fhining arms and courfers train'd U'here woodland monflers grin in fretted
to war : gold,
Their lances fix'd in earth, their flceds There fullen lions (lernly feem to roar,
around, There war and havock and deftruftion flood.
Free from the harnei"-, graze the fiow'ry And vengeful murder red with human blood.
ground. Pope.
P 2 Cora MO,
io8 The WAR of I K I S -T H O N A :
CoRMALo, replied the king, is chief of ten thoufand fpears;
he dwells at the dark-rolling waters of Lano * ; which fent forth the
cloud of death. He came to Runa's ecchoing halls, and fought the
honour of the fpear -f-. The youth was lovely as the firft beam of
the fun ; and few were they who could meet him in fight ! — My
heroes yielded to Cormalo : and my daughter loved the fon of Lano.
Argon and Ruro returned from the chace; the tears of their
pride defcend : — They rolled their filent eyes on Runa's heroes, be-
caufe they yielded to a ftranger : three days they feafted with Cor-
malo : on the fourth my Argon fought. — But who could fight with
Arson ! — Lano's chief is overcome. His heart fwelled with the grief
of pride, and he refolved, in fecret, to behold the death of my fons.
They went to the hills of Runa, and purfued the dark-brown
hinds. The arrow of Cormalo flew in fecret ; and my children
fell. He came to the maid of his love -, to Inis-thona's dark-haired
niiiid. They fled over the defart — and Annir remained alone.
Night came on and day appeared j nor Argon's voice, nor Ru-
ro's came. At length their much-loved dog is feen j the fleet and
bounding Runar. He came into the hall and howled; and feemed
to look towards the place of their fall. We followed him : we
found them here : and laid them by this mofly ftream. This is the
haunt of Annir, when the chace of the hinds is over. I bendlik^
the trunk of an aged oak above them : and my tears for ever flow.
* Lano was a lake of Scandinavia, plains of autumn, and brings death to the
remarkable, in the days of Oflian, for pcop'.e. Fingal, B. I.
emitting a peftilential vapour in autumn. \ ^y the honour cf the fpear h mc2ix\t ihi:
And thou, O valianl Duchmar, tike the tournament praflifed among the ancitnt
mifl of marjhy Lano j vJjin it fails over the northern nations.
2 RONNAN,
A P O E M. 109
O Ron NAN ! faid the rifing Olcar, Ogar king of fpears ! call my
heroes to my fide, the fons of flreamy Morven. To-day we go to
Lano's water, that fends forth the cloud of death. Cormalo will not
long rejoice : death is often at the point of our fwords.
They came over the defart like ftormy clouds, when the winds
roll them over the heath : their edges are tinged with lightning :
and the ecchoing groves forefee the ftorm. The horn of Ofcar's
battle is heard ; and Lano fhook over all its waves. The children
of the lake convened around the founding fliield of Cormalo.
Oscar fought, as he was wont in battle. Cormalo fell beneath
his fword : and the fons of the difmal Lano fled to their fecret vales.
Ofcar brought the daughter of Inis-thona to Annir's ecchoing
halls. The face of age is bright with joy; he bleft the king of
fwords.
How great was the joy of Offian, when he beheld the diftant fail
of his fon ! it was like a cloud of light that rifes in the eaft, when
the traveller is fad in a land unknown ; and difmal night, with her
ghofts, is fitting around him.
We brought him, with fongs, to Selma's halls. Fingal ordered
the feaft of fliells to be fpread. A thoufand bards raifed the name
of Ofcar : and Morven anfwered to the noife. The daughter of
Tofcar was there, and her voice was like the harp ; when the diftant
found com.es, in the evening, on the foft-ruflling breeze of the vale.
O LAY me, ye that fee the light, near fome rock of my hills:
let the thick hazels be mound, let the ruftling oak be near. Green
be the piace of my reft j and let the found of the diftant torrent
be heard. Daughter of Tofcar, take the harp, and raife the lovely
fong
no The WAR of I N I S - T II O N A :
fong of Selma ; that fleep may overtake my foul in the midft of
joy ; that the dreams of my youth may return, and the days of the
mighty Fingal.
Selma! I behold thy towers, thy tree?, and fliaded wall. I fee
the heroes of Morven j and hear the fong of bards. Ofcar lifts the
fword of Cormalo ; and a thoufand youths adniire its ftudded thongs.
They look with wonder on my fon ; and admire the ftrength of his
arm. They mark the joy of his father's eyes; they long for an
equal fame.
And ve fliall have your flune, O fons of ftreamy Morven. — My
foul is often brightened with the fong ; and I remember the com-
panions of my youth. But lleep defcends with the found of the
harp ; and pleafant dreams begin to rife. Ye fons of the chace ftand
far dillant, nor difturb my refl: *. The bard of other times con-
verfes now with his fathers, the chiefs of the days of old. — Sons of
the chace, ftand far diftant ; difturb not the dreams of OlTian.
* I charge you, O ye daughters of Jc- field, that ye ftir not up, nor awake my
rufakm, by the roes, and by the hinds of the love, till he pleafe. Solomon's Song.
THE
( IM )
THE
BATTLE of LORA
A P O E M*.
SON of the diftant land, who dwellcft in the fecret cell! do I
hear the founds of thy grove ? or is it thy voice of fongs ? —
The torrent was loud in my ear, but I heard a tunefnl voice ; dofl
thou praife the chiefs of thy land ; or the fpirits -j- of the wind ? —
But, lonely dweller of the rock ! look over that heathy plain : thou
feeft green tombs, with their rank, whiflling grafs ; with their ftones
* This poem is compleat ; nor does it ragon king of Sofa, a country of Scandi-
appear from tradition, that it was intro- navia, the declared enemy of Fingal. The
duced, as an epifode, into any of Oflian's valour of Aide foon gained him a great
great works. — It it called, in the original, reputatioa in Sora: and Lorma the beauti-
Duan a ChuUich, or the CuUhe's p-e/n, ful wife of Erragon fell in love with him,
becaufe it was addrefled to one of the firft — He found means to efcape with her, and
Chriflian miflionarie?, who were called, to come to Fingal, who refided then in
from their retired life, Culdecs, or fe- Sehna on the weftern coaft.— Erragon irr-
qufjlered perfans. — The ftory bears a near vadcd Scotland, and was flain in battle by
refemblance to that which was the foun- Gaul the fon of Morni, after he had re-
dation of the Iliad. Fingal, on his return jcfled terms of peace offered him by Fin-
:rom Ireland, after he had expelled Swa- gal. — In this war Aldo fell, in a fingle
ran from that kingdum, made a feaft to all combat, by the hands of his rival Erragon ;
his heroes : he forgot to invite Ma-ronnan and the unfortunate Lorma afterwards died
and Aldo, two chiefs, who had not been of grief.
along with him on his expedition. They f The poet alludes to the religious hymns
rsfented his neglect ; and went over to Er- of the Culdecs.
of
112 The BATTLE of LORA:
of mofTy heads : thou feeft them, fon of the rock, but OfTian's eyes
have failed.
A MOUNTAIN-STREAM comes roaring down and fends its wa-
ters round a green hill : four moffy lliones, in the midft of withered
grafs, rear their heads on the top : two trees, which the florms
have bent, fpread their whiftling branches around. This is thy
dwelling, Erragon * -, this thy narrow houfe : the found of thy Ihells
have been long forgot in Sera : and thy fliield is become dark in thy
hall. Erragon, king of fliips ! chief of diftant Sora ! how haft
thou fallen on our mountains -f- ! How is the mighty low !
Son of the fecret cell! doft thou delight in fongs ? Hear the
battle of Lora; the found of its fteel is long fince paft. So thun-
der on the darkened hill roars and is no more. The fun returns
with his filent beams : the glittering rocks, and green heads of the
mountains fmile.
The bay of Cona received our fliips :|;, from Ullin's rolling waves :
our white flieets hung loofe to the marts ; and the boifterous winds
roared behind the groves of Morven. The horn of the king is
founded, and the deer ftart from their rocks. Our arrows flew in
the woods ; the feafl of the hill is fpread. Our joy was great on
our rocks, for the fall of the terrible Swaran.
* Erragon, or Fergthonn, fignifies ihe How are the mighty fallen in ttie iniJfl
rage of I he wov s ; probably a poetical name of the battle ! O Jonathan, thou waft flain
given him by Oflian himfelf ; for he goes in thine high places,
by the name of Annir in traJition. 2 Sam. ii. 25.
f The beaitty of ifraci is fl^iin on thy high % This was at Tingal's return from his
places : how are the mighty fallen ! war againft Swaran.
2 S.^M. ii. 19.
Two
A P O E M. 113
Two heroes were forgot at our feaft; j and the rage of their bo-
foms burned. They rolled their red eyes in fecret : the figh burfts
from their breads. They were feen to talk together, and to throw
their fpears on earth. They were two dark clouds, in the midft of
our joy ; like pillars of mift on the fettled fea : it glitters to the fun,
but the mariners fear a ftorm.
Raise my white fails, fald Ma-ronnan, raife them to the winds of
tlie weft ; let us rufli, O Aldo, through the foam of the northern
wave. We are forgot at the feaft : but our arms have been red in
blood. Let us leave the hills of Fingal, and ferve the king of Sora.
His countenance is fierce, and the war darkens round his fpear.
Let us be renowned, O Aldo, in the battles of ecchoing Sora.
They took their fwords and fhields of thongs; and rufhcd to
Lumar's founding bay. They came to Sora's haughty king, the
chief of bounding fteeds. Erragon had returned from the chace :
his fpear was red in blood. He bent his dark face to the ground :
and whiftlcd as he went. He took the ftrangers to his feafts :
they fought and conquered in his wars.
Aldo returned with his fame towards Sora's lofty walls. — From
her tower looked the fpoufe of Erragon, the humid, rolling eyes of
Lorma. Her dark-brown hair flies on the wind of ocean : her
white breaft heaves, like fnow on heath ; when the gentle winds
arife, and flowly move it in the light. She faw young AlJo, like
the beam of Sora's fetting fun. Her foft heart fighed : tears filled
her eyes j and her white arm fupported her head.
Three days Ihe fat within the hall, and covered grief v.ith joy.
— On the fourth ftie fled with the hero, along the rolling fea.— — —
They canie to Cona's mofl^' towers, to Fingal king of fpears.
Q^ Aldo
tl4 The BATTLE of LORA:
Aldo of the heart of pride ! faid the rifing king of Morven, fliall
I defend thee from the wrath of Sora's injured king ? who will now
receive my people into their halls, or give the feaft of ftrangers,
fmce Aldo, of the little foul, has carried away the fair of Sora ? Go
to thv hills, thou feeble hand, and hide thee in thy caves ; mourn-
ful is the battle we muft fight, with Sora's gloomy king. Spirit
of the noble Trenmor ! When will Fingal ceafe to fight ? I was
born in the midll of battles *, and my fteps muft move in blood to
my tomb. But my hand did not injure the weak, my fteel did not
touch the feeble in arms. — I behold thy tempefts, O Morven, which
will over trun my halls; when my children are dead in battle, and
none remains to dv/ell in Selma. Then will the feeble come, but
they will not know my tomb : my renown is in the fong : and my
aclions Ihall be as a dream to future times.
His people gathered around Erragon, as the ftorms round the
ghoft of night ; when he calls them from the top of Morven, and
prepares to pour them on the land of the ftranger. He came to
the fliore of Cona, and fent his bard to the king ; to demand the
combat of thoufands ; or the land of many hills.
Fingal fit in his hall with the companions of his youth around
him. The young heroes were at the chace, and far diftant in the
defart. The gray-haired chiefs talked of other times, and of the
aftions of their youth ; when the aged Narthmor -j- came, the king
of ftreamy Lora.
This is no time, begun the chief, to hear the fongs of other years :
Erragon frowns on the coaft, and lifts ten thoufand fvvords. Gloomy
* Combal the Father of Fingal was flain may, with propriety, be faid to have been
in battle, ;igainft the tribe of Morni, the born in the miiljl of battles.
very day that Fingal was born ; fo that he -^tiiSttt-snaT, great Jirength, Lora, w*.^.
is
A P O E M. 11^
is the king among his chiefs ! he is like the darkened moon, amidft
the meteors of night.
Come, faidFingal, from thy hall, thou daughter of my love ; come
from thy hall, Bofmina *, maid of ftreamy Morven ! Narthmor,
take the fteeds -f of the ftrangers, and attend the daughter of Fingal :
let her bid the king of Sora to our feaft, to Selma's fliaded wall.
Offer him, O Bofmina, the peace of heroes, and the wealth
of generous Aldo : our youths are far diftant, and age is on our.
trembling hands.
She came to the hoft of Erragon, like a beam of light to a cloud.
In her right hand flione an arrow of gold : and in her left a
iparkling fhell, the fign of Morven's peace.
Erragon brightened in her prefence as a rock, before die fud-
den beams of the fun ; when they illue from a broken cloud, divid-
ed by the roaring wind.
Son of the diftant Sora, begun the mildly blufliing maid, come to
the feaft of Morven's king, to Selma's fhaded walls. Take the peace
of heroes, O warrior, and let the dark fword reft by thy fide. — And
if thou chufeft the wealth of kings, hear the words of the generous
Aldo. He gives to Erragon an hundred fteeds, the children of
the rein ; an hundred maids from diftant lands ; an hundred hawks
with fluttering wing, that fly acrofs the fky. An hundred girdles J
ftiall alfo be thine, to bind high-bofomed v/omen ; the friends of
the
* 'Qoi-mh\ni,foft and Under hand. She Roman province, which feems to be inti-
was the youngeft of Fingal's children. mated in the phrafe ofthejiegds ofjlrangers.
f Thefe were probably hopfcs taken in % Sanctified girdles, till very lately, were
the iiicurfion« of the Caledonians into the kept in many families in the north of Scot-
er 2 land :
ii6 The B A T T L E of L O R A:
the births of heroes, and the cure of the fons of toil. — Ten fliells
ftudded with gems fliall fhine in Sora's towers : the blue water
trembles on their flars, and feems to be fparkling wine.- They
gladdened once the kings of the world *, in the midft of their ec-
choing halls. Thefe, O hero, fhall be thine ; or thy white-bofom-
ed fpoufe. Lorma fliall roll her bright eyes in thy halls ; though
Fingal loves the generous Aldo : — Fingal ! — who never injured a
hero, though his arm is ftrong.
Soft voice of Cona! replied the king, tell him, that he fpreads
his feail: in vain. Let Fingal pour his fpoils around me j and
bend beneath my power. Let him give me the fwords of his fa-
thers, and the fliields of other times ; that my children may be-
hold them in my halls, and fay, " Thefe are the arms of Fingal."
Never fliall they behold them in thy halls, faid the rifing pride
of the maid ; they are in the mighty hands of heroes who never
yielded in war. — King of the ecchoing Sora ! the florm is gathering
on our hills. Doft thou not forefee the fall of thy people, fon of
the diftant land .?
She came to Selma's filent halls; the king beheld her down-cafl:
eyes. He rofe from his place, in his ftrength, and fliook his aged
locks. — He took the founding mail of Trenmor, and the dark-brown
fliield of his fathers. Darknefs filled Selma's hall, when he ftrctch-
ed his hand to his fpear : — the ghofls of thoufands were near, and
land ; they were bound about women in with words and geftures which fliewed the
labour, and were fuppofed to alleviate their cuftom to have come originally from the
pains, and to accelerate the birth. They druids.
were inipielTed with feveral myftical fi- * The Roman emperors. Thefe (hells
gurcs and the ceremony of binding thtm were fome of the fpoils of the province,
about ihe woman's waift, was acconi, an.eJ
forefaw
A P O E M. 117
foreflwv the de.ith of the people. Terrible joy rofe in the face of the
aged heroes : they rulhed to meet the foe ; their thoughts are on the
a<flions of other years : and on the flime of the tomb.
Now the dogs of the chace appeared at Trathal's tomb : Fingal
knew that his young heroes followed them, and he Itopt in the
midlt of his courfe. Ofcar appeared the firft; — then Morni's fon,
and Nemi's race : — Fercuth * (hewed his gloomy form : Dermid
'fpread his dark hair on tlie wind. Offian came the laft, O fon of the
rock -f-, I hummed the fong of other times : my fpear fupported
my fteps over the little ftreams, and my thoughts were of mighty
men. Fingal ftruck his bofly fliield ; and gave the difmal fign of
war ; a thoufand fwords ;}:, at once unflieathed, gleam on the wav-
ing heath. Three gray-haired fons of the fong raife the tuneful,
mournful voice. Deep and dark with founding fteps, we rufli, a
gloomy ridge, along : like the fliower of a ftorm when it pours on
the narrow vale.
The king ofMorven fat on his hill: the fun-beam || of battle
flew on the wind : the companions of his youth are near, with all
their waving locks of age. Joy rofe in the hero's eyes when he
beheld his fons in war ; when he faw them amidfl the lightning of
fwords, and mindful of the deeds of their fathers. Erragon came
on, in his ftrength, like the roar of a winter ftream : the battle falls
in his courfe, and death is at his lide.
* Fear-cuth, the fame with Fergus, //j.'OTa^ Of mighty Cherubim ; the fudden blaze
s/'//;#zf«rrf, or a commander of an arjr.y. Far round iHumin'd hell.
t The poet addrefles himfelf to the Milton-.
Ciildee. ]| I have obferved in a former note, that
X He fpake ; and to confirm his words the ftandard of Fingal was called the fun.-
out-flew. [ thighs beam from its being ftudded with {lor.es
Millions of flaming fwords, drawn from the and geld.
3 Who
nS The BATTLE of L O R A:
Who comes, lliid Finga!, like the bounding roe, like the hart of
ecchoing Cona ? His Ihield glitters on his f.de ; and the clang of his
armour is- mournful. He meets with Erragon in the llrife ! —
Behold the battle of the chiefs ! — it is like the contending of ghofts
in a gloomy Itorm. But falleil: thou, fon of the hill, and is thy
white bofom ilaiiied \\ ith blood r Weep, unhappy Lorma, Aldo is
no more.
The king took the fpear of his llrength ; for he was fad for the
fall of Aldo: he bent his deathful eyes on the foe; but Gaul met
the king of Sora. Who can relate the fight of the chiefs ? — The
mighty ftranger fell.
Sons of Cona! Fiugal cried aloud, flop the hand of death. —
Mighty was he that is now fo low ! and much is he mourned in
Sora ! The flranger will come towards his hall, and wonder why it
is filent. The king is fallen, O flranger, and the joy of his houfe
is ceafed. Liften to the found of his woods : perhaps his ghoft is
there; but he is far diflant, on Morven, beneath the fword of a
foreign foe.
Such were the words of Fingal, when the bard raifed the fong
of peace ; we flopped our upUfted fwords, and fpared the feeble
foe. We laid Erragon in that tomb ; and I raifed the voice of grief :
the clouds of night came rolling down, and the ghoft of Erragon
appeared to fome. — His face was cloudy and dark ; and an half-
formed figh is in his breaft. Bleft be thy foul, O king of Sora !
thine arm was terrible in war !
Lorma fat, in Aldo's hall, at the light of a flaming oak : the
night came, but he did not return; and the foul of Lorma is lad.
< — What detains thee, hunter of Cona ? for thou didft promife to
return V
A P O E M. 1,9
return. Has the deer been diftant far ; and do the dirk winds
figh, round thee, on the heath ? I am in tli.e land of flrangers>
where is my friend, but Aldo ? Come from thy ecchoing hills, O
my befl: beloved !
Her eyes are turned toward the gate, and flie lillens to the ruft-
ling blaft. She thinks it is Aldo's tread, and joy rifes in her face :
— but forrow returns again, like a thin cloud on the moon. And
thou wilt not return, my love ? Let me behold the face of the hill.
The moon is in the eaft. Calm and bright is the breaft of the
lake ! When fliall I behold his dogs returning from the chace ?
When fliall I hear his voice, loud and diftant on the wind ? Come
from thy ecchoing hills, hunter of woody Cona !
His thin ghoft appeared, on a rock, like the watry beam of the
moon, when it ruflies from between two clouds, and tlic mid-
night fliower is on the field. She followed the empty form over
the heath, for flie knew that her hero fell. — I heard her approachinsv
cries on the wind, like the mournful voice of the breeze, when it
fighs on the grafs of the cave.
She came, flie found her hero : her voice was heard no more :
filent flie rolled her fad eyes ; flie v/as pale as a Avatry cloud, that
rifes from the lake, to the beam of the moon.
Few were her days on Cona: flie funk into the tomb: Fingal
commanded his bards; and they fung over the death of Lorma.
The daughters * of Morven mourned her for one day in the year,
when the dark winds of autumn returned.
* The daughters of Ifrael went yearly to L-iment the daughter of Jephthah the
Gileadite four days in a year. Judges xi. 40.
Son
4
120 The BATTLE of L O R A :
Son of the dillant land*, thou dwelleft in the field of fame: O
let thy fong rife, at times, in the praife of thofe that fell : that their
thin ghofls may rejoice around thee; and the foul of Lorma come
on a moon-beam -f-, when thou Heft down to reft, and the moon
looks into thy cave. Then fhalt thou fee her lovely ; but the tear
is ftill on her cheek.
* The poet addrefles himfelf to the near the window of my reft; when my
Culdee. thoughts are of peace ; and the din of arms
t Be thou on a moon-beam, O Morna, is over. Fincal, B. I.
CONLATH
( 121 )
CONLATH and CUTHONAr
A P O E M*.
DID not OiTian hear a voice ? or Is it the found of days that are
no more ? Often does the memory of former times come, like
the evening fun, on my foul. The noife of the chace is^ renewed ';
and, in thought, I lift the fpear. But Offian did hear a voice ;
Who art thou, fon of the night ? The fons of little men are afleep,
and the midnight wind is in my hall. Perhaps it is the fliield of
Fingal that echoes to the blaft, it hangs in Offian's hall, and he feels
* Conlath was the youngeft of Morni's failed after him, and found him on the
fons, and brother to the celebrated Gaul, point of failing for the coafl of Ireland',
who is fo often mentioned in Offian's poems. They fought; and they, and their followers
He was in love with Cuthona the daughter fell by mutual wounds. Cuthona did not long
of Rumar, when Tofcar the fon of Kin- furvive : for flie died of grief the third day
fena, accompanied by Fercuth his friend, after. Fingal, hearing of their unfortunate
arrived, from Ireland, at Mora where death, fent Stormal the fon of Moran to
Conlath dwelt. He was hofpitably re- bury them, but forgot to fend a bard to
ceived, and according to the cuftom of the fing the funeral fong over their tombs. Tl\e
times, feaited, three days, with Conlath. ghofl of Conlath came, long after, to Of-
On the fourth he ftt fail, and coafting the fian, to intreat him to tranfmit, to pofte-
ijland of waves, probably, one of the Ha- rity, his and Cuthona's fame. For it was
brides, he faw Cuthona hunting, fell in love the opinion of the times, thatthe fouls of the
with her, and carried her away, by force, dcceafed were not happy, tiirtheir elegies
in his {hip. He was forced, by ftrefs of were compofed by a bard. Thus is tite
weather, into I- thona a defart ifle. In the flory of the poem handed down by tra-
a»ean-time Conlath, hearing of the rape, dition,
R it
122 C O N L A T H and C U T H O N A :
it fometimes with his hands. Yes ! — I hear thee, my friend ;
long has thy voice been abfent from mine ear ! What brings thee,
on thy cloud, to Offian, fon of the generous Morni ? Are the friends
of the aged near thee ? Where is Ofcar, fon of fame ? — He was of-
ten near thee, O Conlath, when the din of battle rofe.
Ghost of Conlath.
Sleeps the fweet voice of Cona, in the midlt of his ruftling hall ?
Sleeps Offian in his hall, and his friends without their fame ? The
fea rolls round the dark I-thona *, and our tombs are not feen by the
flranger. How long iliall our fame be unheard, fon of the eccho-
ing Morvea ?
OssiAN.
O THAT mine eyes could behold thee, as thou fittefl, dim, on
thy cloud ! Art thou like the mift of Lano ; or an half extinguiflied
meteor ? Of what are the ikirts of thy robe ? Of what is thine airy
bow ? But he is gone on his blaft like the fliadow of mift. —
Come from thy wall, my harp, and let me hear thy found. Let
the light of memory rife on I-thona j that I may behold my friends.
And Oflian does behold his friends, on the dark-blue ifle. — The cave
of Thona appears, with its mofly rocks and bending trees. A flream
roars at its mouth, and Tofcar bends over its courfe. Fercuth is fad
by his fide : and the maid -f of his love lits at a diftance, and weeps.
Does the wind of the waves deceive me ? Or do I hear them fpeak ?
TOSCAR.
The night was flormy. From their hills the groaning oaks came
down. The fea darkly-tumbled beneath the blaft, and the roaring
waves were climbing againfl our rocks. — The lightning came often
V', * I-thonn, i/~anJ of WiVfs, one of the -j- Cuthor.a the daughter of Rumar, whom
uninhabited wcftern ifles. Tofcar had carried away by force.
3 and
A POEM. 123
and fliewed the blafted fern. — Fercuth ! I faw the ghoft of night *.
Silent he ftood, on that bank; his robe of mift flew on the wind. —
I could behold his tears : an aged man he feenied, and full of
thought.
Fercuth.
It was thy father, O Tofcar ; and he forefees fome death among
his race. Such was his appearance on Cromla, before the great
Ma-ronnan -j- fell. Ullin | ! with thy hills of grafs, how plea-
fant are thy vales ! Silence is near thy blue ftreams, and the fun is
on thy fields. Soft is the found of the harp in Selama ||, and lovely
the cry of the hunter on Cromla. But we are in the dark I-thona,
furrounded by the florm. The billows lift their white heads above
our rocks : and we tremble amid ft the night.
TOSCAR.
Whither is the foul of battle fled, Fercuth with the locks of
age ? I have feen thee undaunted in danger, and thine eyes burning
with joy in the fight. Whither is the foul of battle fled ? Our fa-
thers never feared. — Go : view the fettling fea : the ftcrmy wind is
laid. The billows ftill tremble 4- on the deep, and feem to fear the
blaft. But view the fettling fea : morning is gray on our rocks.
The fun will look foon from his eaft ; in all his pride of hght.
* It was long thought, in the North of feiTion concerning the extraordinary death
Scotland, that ftorms were raifed by the of that hero,
gholh of the deceafed. This notion is ftill % Ulfter in Ireland,
entertained by the vulgar ; for they think that |j Selamath — beautiful to behold, the name
whirlwinds, and fudden fqualls of wind are of Tofcar's palace, on thecoaft of Ulfter,
occafioned by fpirits, who tranfport them- near the mountain Cromla the fcene of
felves, in that manner, from one place to ihs epic poem,
another. 4. the face of ocean fleepp,
+ Maronnan was the brother of Tof- And a ftill horror faddens all the deeps.
car ; the tranflator has a poem in his pof- Pope's Homer.
R 2 I I,IFTED
: 24 C O N L A T H and C U T H O N A ;
I LIFTED up my fails, with joy, before the halls of generous
"Conlath. My courfe was by the ille of waves, where his love pur-
sued tlie deer. I faw her, like that beam of the fun that ifTues from
the cloud. Her hair was on her heaving breaft ; (he, bending for-
ward, drew the bow : her white arm feemed, behind her, like the
fnow of Crcmla : Come to my foul, I faid, thou huntrefs of the
jlle of waves ! But flie fpends her time in tears, and thinks of the ge-
iierous Conlath. Where can I find thy peace, Cuthona, lovely maid!
Cr-THONA *.
A DISTANT fteep bends over the fea, with aged trees and mofiy
rocks : the billows roll at its feet ; on its fide is the dwelling of
roes. The people call it Ardven. There the towers of Mora rife.
There Conlath looks over the fea for his only love. The daughters
of the chace returned, and he beheld their downcaft eyes. Where
is the daughter of Rumar ? But they anfwered not. — My peace dwells
on x'\rdven, fon of the diiLint land !
TOSCAR.
And Cuthona (hall return to her peace ; to the halls of generous
Conlath. He is the friend of Tofcar : I have feafted in his halls. —
Rife, ye gentle breezes of Ullin, and flretch my fails towards Ard-
ven's fhores. Cuthona ihall reft on Ardven : but the days of Tof-
car will be fad. — I fliall fit in my cave in the field of the fun. The
blafl will ruftle in my trees, and I fliall think it is Cuthona's voice.
But flie is diflant far, in the halls of the mighty Conlath.
* Cuthona, t/je mournful fowid of the found of the waves; her name in fradi-
uaves ; a poetical name given her by tion is Gorm-huil, thi b!ue-e;ed maid.
Oflian, on acount of her mourning to the
A Oh!
A P O E M. J25
CUTHONA.
Oh ! what cloud is that ? It carries the ghofls of my f;ithers. I
fee the fkirts of their robes, like gray and vvatry mift. When fliall
I fall, O Rumar ? — Sad Cuthona fees her death. Will not Conlath
behold me, before I enter the narrow houfe * ?
OssiAN.
And he will behold thee, O maid : he comes along the rolling
fea. The death of Tofcar is dark on his fpear ; and a wound is in
his fide. He is pale at the cave of Thona, and fhews his ghaftly
wound -f-. Where art thou with thy tears, Cuthona ? the chief of
Mora dies. The vifion grows dim on my mind : — I behold the
chiefs no more. But, O ye bards of future times, rem.ember the
fall of Conlath with tears : he fell before his day J ; and fadnefs
darkened in his hall. His mother looked to his fliield on the wall,
and it was bloody 4- She knew that her hero died, and her forrow
was heard on Mora.
Art thou pale on thy rock, Cuthona, befide the fallen chiefs?
The night comes, and the day returns, but none appears to raife
their tomb. Thou frightneft the fcreaming fowls || away, and thy
tears forever flow. Thou art pale as a watry cloud, that rifes
From a lake.
The
* The grave. J Nam quia ncc fati, ?ner!ta nee v.oite
^ ■ tnhuma'.i venit imago peribat.,
Conjugh, ora /nodis adiolUvs pall'u'a ?)uiis Sed m'tjera ante diem, iSc. Virg.
CrudeUs aras, trajulaque peSiaraferro -j- I' ^^'^s the opinion of the times, that
Nudiivit, Virg. the arms left by the heroes at home, became
the ghoft appears bloody the very inftant their owners were
Of her unhappy Lord : the fpeiflre (lares, killed, though at ever fo great a diftance.
And wiih creded eyes his bloody bofom || The fituation of Cuthona Is like tliat
bares. Dryden, ofRizpaii, Saui's miftrcfs, who fat by her
fons
126 CONLATH and CUTHONA:
The fons of the defart came, and they found her dead. They
raife a tomb over the heroes ; and flie refts at the fide of Conlath.
—Come not to my dreams, O Conlath ; for thou haft received thy
fame. Be thy voice far diftant from my hall ; that fleep may defcend
at night. O that I could forget my friends : till my footfteps ceafe
to be feen ! till I come among them with joy ! and lay my aged
limbs in the narrow houfe !
fons after they had been hanged by the until water dropped on them out of hea-
Gibeonites. ven, and fufFered neither the birds of the
And Rizpah, the daughter of Aiah, took air to reft on them by day, nor the beafls
fackcloth, and fpread it for her upon the of prey by night,
rock, from the beginning of the harveft 2 Sam. xxi. 10.
C A R T H O N :
( 127 )
C A R T H O N*:
A POEM.
A TALE of the times of old! The deeds of days of other
years ! — The murmur of thy ftreams, O Lora, brings back,
the memory of the paft. The found of thy woods, Garmallar, is
lovely in mine ear. Doft thou not behold, Malvina, a rock with
its head of heath ? Three aged firs bend from its face ; green is the
narrow plain at its feet j there the flower of the mountain grows,
and
* This poem is compleat, and the fub-
jeft of it, as of moft of Offian's compofi-
tions, tragical. In the time of Comhal
the fon of Trathal, and father of the cele-
brated Fingal, Clefsammor the fon of
Thaddu and brother of Morna, Fingal's
mother, was driven by a ftorm into the
river Clyde, on the banks of which flood
Balclutha, a town belonging to the Bri-
tons between the walls. He was hofpitably
received by Reuthamir, the principal man
in the place, who gave him Moina his only
daughter in marriage. Reuda, the fon of
Cormo, a Briton who was in love with
Moina, came to Reuthamir's houfe, and
behaved haughtily towards Clefsammor. A
quarrel infued, in which Reuda was killed j
the Britons, who attended him prefTed fo
hard on Clefsammor, that he was obliged
to throw himfelf into the Clyde, and fwim
to his fhip. He hoifled fail, and the wind
being favourable, bore him out to fea. He
often endeavoured to return, and carry ofF
his beloved Moina by night ; but the wind
continuing contrary, he was forced to
defift.
Moina, who had been left with child by
her hufband, brought forth a fon, and died
foon after. Reuthamir named the child
Carthon, /. e. the murmur ef waves, from
the rtorm v/hich carried off Clefsammor his
father, who was fuppofed to have been cafl:
away. When Cartlion was three years
old, Comhal the father of Fingal, in one
of
128 C A R T H O N:
and fliakes Its white head In the breeze. The thiftle is there alone,
and fhades its aged beard. Two ftones, half funk in the ground,
(hew their heads of niofs. The deer of the mountain avoids ths
place, for he beholds the gray ghoft that guards it * : for the mighty
lie, O Malvina, in the narrow plain of the rock. A tale of the
times of old ! the deeds of days of other years !
Who comes from the land of Grangers, with his thoufands around
him ? the fun-beam pours its bright ftream before him ; and his hair
meets the wind of his hills. His face is fettled from war. He is
calm as the evening beam that looks, from the cloud of the weft, on
Cona's filent vale. Who Is it but Comhal's fon -f-, the king of
mighty deeds ! He beholds his hills with joy, and bids a thoufand
voices rife. Ye have fled over your fields, ye fons of the diftant
land ! The king of the world fits In his hall, and hears of his people's
flight. He lifts his red eye of pride, and takes his father's fword.
Ye have fled over your fields, fons of the diftant land !
of his expeditions agalnft the Britons, took opens on the night preceding the death of
and burnt Balclutha. Reuthamir was ki!- Carthon, fo that what pafTed before is in-
Jed in the attack : and Carthon was carried troduced by way of epifode. The poem is
Uk away by his nurfe, who fled farther addrefled to Malvina the daughter of Tof-
into the country of the Britons. Carthon, car.
coming to maa's eftate was refolvcd to re- * It was the opinion of the times, that
venge the fall of Balclutha on Comhal's deer faw the ghofts of the dead. To this
pofterity. He fet fail, from the Clyde, day, when beads fuddenly flart without any
and, falling on the coaft of Morven, de- apparent caufe, the vulgar think that they
feated two of Fingal's heroes, who came to fee the fpirits of the deceafed.
oppofe his progrefs. He was, at laft, un- f Fingal returns here, from an expedi-
wittingly killed by his father Clefsammor, tion againfl the Romans, which was cei'e»
in a fingle combat. This flory is the brated by Oflian in a poem called the Jirifi
fourjdatioa of ti.e prefcnt poem, which cf Cronj,
Such
A POEM. 129
Such were the words of the bards, when they came to Selma's
halls. — A thoufand lights * from the ftranger's land rofe, in the midfl:
of the people. The feaft is fpread around; and the night paflcd away in
joy. — Where is the noble Clefsammor -|-, faid the fair-haired Fingal ?
Where is the companion of my father, in the days of my joy ? Sul-
len and dark he paffes his days in the vale of ecchoing Lora : but, be-
hold, he comes from the hill, like a fteed ;{: in his ftrength, who
finds his companions in the breeze ; and tolTes his bright mane in
the wind. Blefh be the foul of Clefsammor, why fo long from
Selma ?
Returns the chief, faid Clefsammor, in the midltof his fame ?
Such was the renown of Comhal in the battles of his youth. Often
did we pafs over Carun to the land of the ftrangers : our fwords re-
turned, not unftained with blood : nor did the kings of the world
rejoice. Why do I remember the battles of my youth ? My hair
is mixed with gray. My hand forgets to bend the bow : and I lift
* Probably wax-lights ; which are often He fnufFs the females in the diftant plain
mentioned as carried, among other booty. And fprings, exulting. Pope.
from the Roman province. ^alls ubi abruptis fugil prtsfepia vir.c'h
■\ Cleflamh mor, mighty deeds. Tandem liber equus, campoque potitus apertc,
X Hall thou given the horfe ftrength ? — IIU in pajlui armentaque Undit equarum :
Haft thou clothed his neck with thunder: arreSliJque fremit cervicibus alCe
He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in Luxurians,luduntque lubie per colla, per ar-
his ftrength. Job. mos, Virg.
"ili S"ori Tti fx-ii 'iTTTTi; tx.iiofr,<7x; Itti Freed from his keepers, thus with broken
(parn!, reins,
^i<7tj.ii/ an-cjiprija;;, &c. HoM. 11. 6. The wanton courfer prances e'or the plains:
The wanton courfer. thus with reins un- Orintheprideofyoutho'erleapsthemounds,
bound. And fnufFs the females in forbidden grounds.
Breaks from his ftall, and beats the trcm- O'er his fhoulders flows his waving
bling ground ; mane :
His head, now freed, he toffes to the (kies ; He neighs, he fnorts, he bears his head on
His mane diflievel'd o'er his fhoulJers flies; hi^h. Dryden.
S a
130 C A R T H O N:
a lighter ipear. O that my joy would return, as when I firft be-
held the maid ; the white bofomed daughter of Grangers, Moina *
with the dark-blue eyes !
Tell, fiud the mighty Fingal, the tale of thy youthful days.
Sorrow, like a cloud on the fun, fhades the foul of Clefsammor.
Mournful are thy thoughts, alone, on the banks of the roaring Lora.
Let us hear the forrow of thy youth, and the darknefs of thy days.
It was in the days of peace, replied the great Clefsammor, I
came, in my bounding fhip, to Balclutha's -f- walls of towers. The
winds had roared behind my fails, and Clutha's J ftreams received
my dark-bofomed vefTel. Three days I remained in Reuthamir's
halls, and faw that beam of light, his daughter. The joy of the
fhell went round, and the aged hero gave the fair. Her breads
were like foam on the wave, and her eyes like ftars of light : her
hair was dark as the raven's wing : her foul was generous and mild.
My love for Moina was great ; and my heart poured forth in joy.
The fon of a llranger came ; a chief who loved the white-bofomed
Moina. His words were mighty in the hall, and he often half-
unflieathed his fword. — Where, he faid, is the mighty Comhal, the
reftlefs wanderer || of the heath ? Comes he, with his hoft, to Bal-
clutha, fince Clefsammor is fo bold ?
* Moina, yj/i in temper and perfcn. AVe word is lending, in allufion to the winding
find the Britifti names in this poem derived courfe ot that river. From Ciutha is de-
from the Galic, which is a proof that the rived its Latin name, Glotta.
ancient language of the whole iiland was || The word in the original here rendered
one and the fime. by rejilefs wanderer, is Scuta, which is the
t Baiclutha, ;'. e. the town of Cl,de, pro- true origin of the Seoti of the Romans ; an
bably the A.cluth of Bede. opprobrious name impofcd by the Britons,
t Ciutha, or Cluaih, the Galic name of on the Caledonians, on account of the con-
the river Clyde, the fi£,nification of the tinual incurfions into their country.
I My
A POEM.
Ki
My Soul, I replied, O warrior ! burns in a light of its own. I
ftand without fear in the midlt of thoufands, though the valiant are
diftant far. — Stranger ! thy words are mighty, for Cleffammor is
alone. But my fword trembles by my fide, and longs to glitter in
my hand. — ^Speak no more of Comhal, fon of the winding Clutha !
The ftrength of his pride arofe. We fought; he fell beneath
my fword. The banks of Clutha heard his fall, and a thoufand.
fpears glittered around. I fought : the ftrangers prevailed : I
plunged into the ftream of Clutha. My white fails rofe over the
waves, and I bounded on the dark-blue fea. — Moina came to the
fhore, and rolled the red eye of her tears : her dark hair flew oa
the wind ; and I heard her cries. — Often did I turn my fhip ! but
the winds of the Eaft prevailed. Nor Clutha ever fince have I feen :
nor Moina of the dark brown hair. — She fell in Balclutha : for I
have feen her ghoft. I knew her as flie came through the duiky
night, along the murmur of Lora : fhe was like the new moon |(
feen through the gathered mift : when the fky pours down its flaky
fnow, and the world is filent and dark.
Raise -f-, ye bards, faid the mighty Fingal, the praife of unhappy
Moina. Call her ghoft, with your fongs, to our hills ; that {he
may
* Inter quasPhceniJfarecensavelr.ere Dido Obfcure in fhades, and with a doubtful
Errabat fylva in magna: quamTroius heros view,
L'tprlmu}njuxtaJ}etit,ag>:ovitqueperumbram Doubtful as he who runs thro' dufky night,
Obfcuram, quahm prima qui furgere menfe Or thinks he fees the moon's uncertain
/futvidet, autvidijje futatper nubila luimm, light, &c. Drvd.
^c, ViRG. t The title of this poem, in the orginal, is
Not far from thefe Phoenician Dido flood, Duan na nla:i, i. c. The Poem of the Hymns :
Fre(h from her wound, her bofom bath'd probably on account of its many digreflions
in blood. from the fubjefl, all which are in a ly-
Whom when the Trojan hero hardly knew ric meafure, as this fong of Fingal. Fin-
gal is celebrated by the Irifh hiftorians for
S i his
13^
C A R T H O N
may reft with the fair of Morven, the fun-beams of other days,
and the deUght of heroes of old. — I have feen the walls* of Bal-
clutha, but they were defolate. The fire had refounded in the halls :
and the voice of the people is heard no more. The ftream of Clutha
was removed from its place, by the fall of the walls. — The thiftle
fhook, there, its lonely head : the mofs whiftled to the wind.
The fox looked out, from the windows, the rank grafs of the
wall waved round his head. — Defolate is the dwelling of Moina,
filence is in the houfe of her fathers. — Raife the fong of mourn-
ing, O bards, over the land of ftrangers. They have but fallen
before us : for, one day, we muft fall. — Why doft thou build the
hall, fon of the winged days .'' Thou lookefl: from thy towers to-day j,
yet a few years, and the blaft of the defart comes ; it howls in. thy
empty court, and whiftles round thy half- worn (hield. — And let the
blaft of the defart come ! we fliall be renowned in our day. The
mark of my arm ftiall be in the battle, and my name in the fong
of bards. — Raife the fong ; fend round the ftiell : and let joy be
heard in my hall. — When thou, fun of heaven, flialt fail ! if thoa
fhalt fail, thou mighty light ! if thy brightnefs is for a feafon, like
Fingal ; our fame fhall furvive thy beams.
Such was the fong of Fingal, in the day of his joy. His thou-
iand bards leaned forward from their feats, to hear the voice of the
king. It was like the mufic of the harp on the gale of the fpring.
— Lovely were thy thoughts, O Fingal ! why had not Ofiian the
ftrength of thy foul ^ — But thou ftandeft alone, my father ; and,
who can equal the king of Morven .''
his wifdom in making laws, his poetical * The reader may compare this paflage
genius, and his foreknowledge of events, with the three laft verfes of the 13th chap-
— O'Flaherty goes fo far as to fay, that ter of Ifaiah, where the prophet forcteli
Jingal's laws were extant in his own time., the deftruftion of Babylon.
The
A P O E M. 133
The night pafTed away in the fong, and morning returned in
fov J — the mountains {hewed their gray heads; and the bhie face of
ocean fmiled. — The white wave is fcen tumbling round the diftant
rock ; the gray mift rifes, flowly, from the lake. It came, in the
figure of an aged man, along the filent plain. Its large limbs did
not move in fteps ; for a ghoft fupported it in mid air. It came
towards Selma's hall, and dillblved in a fhower of blood.
The king alone beheld the terrible fight, and he forefaw the
death of the people. He came, in filence, to his hall ; and took
his father's fpear. — The mail rattled on his breaft. Tlie heroes rofe
around. They looked, in filence, on each other, marking the eyes
of Fingal, — They faw the battle in his face : the death of armies
on his fpear. — A thoufand fliields, at once, are placed on their arms >
and they drew a thoufand fwords. The hall of Selma brightened
around. The clang of arms afcends. — The gray dogs howl in:
their place. No word is among the mighty chiefs. — Each marked
the eyes of the King ; and half aiTumed his fpear.
Sons of Morven, begun the king, this is no time to fill the
fhell. The battle darkens near us j and death hovers over the land.
Some ghoft, the friend of Fingal, has forewarned us of the foe.
The fons of the ftranger come from the darkly-rolling fea. For,
from the water, came the fign of Morven's gloomy danger. — Let
each * afllime his heavy fpear, and gird on his father's fword. — Let
* Eu /i£v Ti? iJopy Sn^affSw £u S'x.a.TtiSa. Fit well his helnij gripe faft his orbed fliield,,
©is-Oo. HoM. ii. 382. Borne ev'n or high ; for this day will pour
His fliarpen'd fpear let every Grecian wield, down,
And every Grecian fi X his brazen fliield, i^c. If I conjeflure right, no drizling (bower,.
Pope. But rattling ftorm of arrows barb'd v;ith^
Let each fire. Mi l ton..
His adamant'ne ccat gird well, and each
the
13^. G A R T H O N
the dark helmet rife on eveiy head j and the mail pour its llghten-
ino- from every fide. — The battle gathers like a tempefl, and fooii
fliall ye hear the roar of death.
The hero moved on before his hofl, like a cloud before a ridge
of green fire ; when it pours on the fky of night, and mariners
forfee a ftorm. On Cona's riling lieath they flood : the white-
bofomed maids beheld them above like a grove ; they forefaw the
death of their youths, and looked towards the fea with fear. — The
white wave deceived them for diftant fails, and the tear is on
their cheek.
The fun rofe on the fea, and we beheld a diftant fleet. — Like the
mift of ocean they came : and poured their youth upon the coaft.
— The chief was among them, like the flag in the midfl of the
]-ie]-cl. — His fliield is fludded with gold, and flately flrode the king
offpears. — He moved towards Selma; his thoufands moved behind.
Go, with thy fong of peace, faid Fingalj go, Ullin, to the king
of fwords. Tell him that we are mighty in battle ; and that the
ghofls of our foes are many. — But renowned are they who have
feafled in my halls ! they fl:»ew the arms |. of my fathers in a foreign
land : the fons of the flrangers wonder, and blefs the friends of
Morven's race ; for our names have been heard afar ; the kings of
the world fhook in the midft of their people.
Ullin went with his fong. Fingal refted on his fpear : he Cxw
the mighty foe in his armour : and he bleft the flranger's fon.
% It was a cuflom among the ancient different families, as monuments of the
Scots, to exchange arms with their guefts, friendfliip which fubfifted between their an-
and thofe arms were preferved long in the ceftors.
How
A P O E M. 13^
How ftately art thou, foil of the fea ! faid the king of woody
Morven. Thy fword is a beam of might by thy fide : thy fpear is
a fir that defies the ftorm. The varied face of the moon is not
broader than thy fliield. — Ruddy is thy face of youth ! foft the
ringlets of thy hair ! — But this tree may fall ; and his memory be
forgot ! — The daughter of the ftranger will be fad, and look to the
rolling fea: — the children will fay, ** We fee a fliip ; perhaps it is the
" king of Balclutha." The tear ftarts from their mother's eye.
Her thoughts are of him that fleeps in Morven.
Such were the words of the king, when Ullin came to the mighty
Carthon : he threv/^ down the fpear before him ; and raifed the fong
of peace.
Come to the feafl of Fingal, Carthon, from the rolling fea! par-
take the feaft of the king, or lift the fpear of war. The ghofls of
our foes are many : but renowned are the friends of Morven !
Behold that field, O Carthon; many a green hill rifes there,
with mofiy ftones and ruftling grafs : thefe are the tombs of Fingal's
foes, the fons of the rolling fea.
Dost thou fpeak to the feeble in arms, faid Carthon, bard of
the woody Morven ? Is my face pale for fear, fon of the peaceful
fong? Why, then, dofl thou think to darken my foul with the
tales of thofe who fell r — My arm has fought in the battle ; my re-
nown is known afar. Go to the feeble in arms, and bid them yield to
Fingal. — Have not I feen the fallen Balclutha ? And fliall I feafi; with
Comhal's fon ? Comhal ! who threw his fire in the midft of my fa-
tlier's hall ! I was young, and knew not the caufe why the virgins
wept. The columns of fmoke pleafed mine eye, when they rofe above
my walls ; I often looked back, with gladnefs, when my friends
fled
136 C A R T H O N:
fled along the hill. But when the years of my youth came on, I
beheld the mols of my fallen walls : my figh arofe with the morn-
ing, and my tears defcended with night. — Shall I not fight, I faid to
my foul, againfl the children of my foes ? And I will fight, O bardj
I feel the ftrength of my fouL
His people gathered around the hero, and drew, at once, their
fhining fwords. He ftands, in the midll:, like a pillar of fire i the
tear half-ftarting from his eye ; for he thought of the fallen Balclu-
tha, and the crowded pride of his foul arofe. Sidelong he looked up
to the hill, where our heroes fhone in arms j the fpear trembled in
his hand : and, bending foreward, he feemed to threaten the king.
Shall I, faid Fingal to his foul, meet, at once, the king ? Shall I
flop him, in the midft of his courfe, before his fame Ihall arife ?
But the bard, hereafter, may fav, when he fees the tomb of Car-
thon ; Fingal took his thoufands, along with him, to battle, before
the noble Carthon fell. No : — bard of the times to come ! thou
flialt not leffen Fingal's fame. My heroes will fight the youth, and
Fingal behold the battle. If he overcomes, I rufli, in my ftrength,
like the roaring ftream of Cona.
Who, of my heroes, will meet the fon of the rolling fea .'' Many
are his warriors on the coait : and Itrong is his allien fpear !
Cathul * rofe, in his ftrength, the fon of the mighty Lor-
mar : three hundred youths attend the chief, the race -|- of his native
ftreams. Feeble was his arm againft Carthon, he fell ; and his
heroes fled.
* Cath-'huil, the eye of hank . Fingal, though not on the fame footing
t It appears, from this paffage, that with the prefent tribes in the north of
clanfhip was eftabliflied, in the days of Scotland.
CONNAL
A P O E M. 137
CoNNAL * refumed the battle, but he broke his heavy fpear : he
ky bound on the field : and Carthon purfued his people.
Clessammor! faid the king -}- of Morven, where is the fpear
of thy ftrengtli ? Wilt thou behold Connal bound ; thy friend, at
the ftream of Lora ? Rife, in the light of thy iteel, thou friend of
Comhal. Let the youth of Balclufha feel the flrength of Mor-
v€n's race.
He rofe in the ftrength of his fteel, fliaking his grizly locks.
He fitted the fhield to his fide ; and ruflied, in the pride of valour.
Carthon flood, on that heathy rock, and faw the heroes ap-
proach. He loved the terrible joy of his face : and his flrength, in
the locks of age, Shall I lift that fpear, he faid, that never
flrikes, but once, a foe? Or fliall I, with the words of peace, pre-
ferve the warrior's life ? Stately are his fteps of age ! — lovely the
remnant of his years. Perhaps it is the love of Moina; the father
of car-borne Cartlion. Often have I heard, that he dwelt at the
ecchoing flream of Lora.
Such were his words, when Clefsammor came, and lifted high
his fpear. The youth received it on his fliield, and fpoke the words
of peace. Warrior of the aged locks! Is there no youth to lift
the fpear ? Haft thou no fon, to raife the fliield before his father,
and to meet the arm of youth ? Is the fpoufe of thy love no more ?
or weeps flie over the tombs of thy fons ? Art thou of the kings of
men ? AVhat will be the fame of my fword if thou flialt fall ?
* This Connal is very much celebrated, in the North, who pretend they are de-
in aiKient poetry, for his wifdom and va- fccnded from him.
lour : there is a fmaii tribe flili fubfiftin-, f Fingal did not then know that Car-
thon was the fon of Ckfsummor.
T It
138 C A R T H O N:
It will be great, thou fon of pride ! begun the tall Clefsammor.
I have been renowned in battle ; but I never told my name * to a
foe. Yield to me, fon of the wave, and then thou fhalt know, that
the mark of my fword is in many a field.
I NEVER yielded, kingof fpears ! replied the noble pride of Car-
thon : I have alfo fought in battles ; and I behold my future fame.
Defpife me not, thou chief of men; my arm, my fpear is ftrong.
Retire among thy friends, and let young heroes fight.
Why doft thou wound my foul, replied Clefsammor with a tear ?
x-^ge does not tremble on my hand ; I ftill can lift the fword. Shall
I fly in Fingal's fight j in the'fight of him I loved ? Son of the fea !
I never fled : exalt thy pointed fpear.
Thev fought, like two contending winds, that drive to roll the
wave. Carthon bade his fpear to err ; for he ftill thought that the
foe was the fpoufe of Moina. He broke Clefsammor's beamy
fpear in twain : and feized his fliining fword. But as Carthon was
binding the chief j the chief drew the dagger of his fathers. He
faw the foe's uncovered fide; and opened, there, a wound.
Fin GAL faw Clefsammor low: he moved in the found of his
fleel. The hofl: flood filent, in his prefence ; they turned their eyes
towards the hero. — He came, like the fullen noife of a florm, before
the winds arife : the hunter hears it in the vale, and retires to the
cave of the rock.
* To tell one's name to an enemy was batants, the battle immediately ceafcd ;
reckoned, in thofe days of heroifm, a ma- and the ancient amity of their forefathers
nifeft evafion of fighting him; for, if it was renewed. J wan uho tells his name
was once known, that friendfliip fubfifled, to his enemy., was of old an ignominious
of old, between the anceftors of the com- term for a coward.
Carthon
A POEM. 139
Carthon flood in his place: the blood is rufhing down his
fide : he law the coming down of the king j and his hopes of fame
arofe * ; but pale was his cheek : his hair flew loofe, his hel-
met fliook on high : the force of Carthon failed ; but his foul was
flrong.
FiiNGAL beheld the heroe's blood ; he flopt the uplifted fpear.
Yield, king of fwords ! faid Comhal's fon ; I behold thy blood.
Thou had been mighty in battle ; and thy fame lliall never f;de.
Art thou the king fo £ir renowned, replied the car-borne Car-
thort ? Art tliou that hght of death, that frightens the kings of the
world ? — But why fliould Carthon afk ? for he is like the ftream of
his defart ; ftrong as a river, in his courfe : fwift as the eagle of the
fky. — O that I had fought with the king ; that my fame might be
great in the fong ! that the hunter, beholding my tomb, might fay,
he fought with the mighty Fingal. But Carthon dies unknown ; he
has poured out his force on the feeble.
But fhou flialt not die unknown, replied the king of woody Mor-
ven : my bards are many, O Carthon, and their longs defcend to
future times. The children of the years to come fhall hear the fame
of Carthon ; when they fit round the burning oak -{-, and the night
is fpent in the fongs of old. The hunter, fitting in the heath,
Ihall hear the ruftling blaft j and, raifing his eyes, behold the rock
where Carthon fell. He fhall turn to his fon, and fliew the place
* This expreflion admits of a double f In the north of Scotland, till very
meaning, either that Carthon hoped to ac- lately, they burnt a large trunk of an oak
quire glory by killing Fingal ; or to be ren- at their fcftivals ; it was called the trunk of
dered famous by falling by his hand. The tbefeaji. Time had, fo much, confecratcd
laft is the mod probable, as Carthon is al- the cuftom, that the vulgar thought it a
leady wounded. kind of facrilege to difufc it.
T 2 w:here
i.p C A R T H O N:
■where the mighty fought ; " There the king of Baklutha fought,
like the ftrength of a thoufand ftreams."
Joy rofe in Carthon's face : he lifted his heavy eyes. He gave
his fw^ord to Fingal, to lie within his hall, that the memory of
Balclutha's king might remain on Morven. — The battle ceafed along
the field, for the bard had fung the fong of peace. The chiefs ga-
thered round the falling Carthon, and heard his words, with fighs.
Silent they leaned on their fpears, while Balclutha's hero fpoke.
His hair fighed in the wind, and his words were feeble.
King of Morven, Carthon faid, I fall in the midft of my courfe.
A foreign tomb receives, in youth, the laft of Reuthamir's race.
Darknefs dwells in Balclutha : and the fhadows of grief in Crathmo.
— But raife my remembrance on tlie banks of Lora : where my fa-
thers dwelt. Perhaps the hulband of Moina will mourn over his
fallen Carthon.
His words reached the heart of Clefsammor : he fell, in filence,
on his fon. The hoft flood darkened around : no voice is on the
plains of Lora. Night came, and the moon, from the eafl, looked
on the mournful field : but ftill they flood, like a filent grove that
lifts its head on Gormal, when the loud winds are laid, and dark au-
tumn is on the plain.
Three days they mourned above Carthon j on the fourth his fa-
ther died. In the narrow plain of the rock they lie ; and a dim
ghofi defends their tomb. There lovely Moina is often feen ; when
the fun-beam darts on the rock, and all around is dark. There fhe
is feen, Malvina, but not like the daughters of the hill. Her robes
are from the ftrangcr's land ; and flic is flill alone.
2 Fingal
A P O E M, I4t
FiKCAL was fad for Carthon ; he defired his bards to mark the
day, when fliadowy autumn returned. And often did they mark
the day and fuig the hero's praife. Who comes fo dark from ocean's
roar, hke autumn's fliadowy cloud ? Death is trembling in his hand !
his eyes are flames of fire ! Who roars along dark Lora's heath ?
\Vho hut Carthon, king of fwords ? The people fall ! fee ! how
he ftrides, like the fullen gholl: of Morven ! — But there he lies a
goodly oak, which fudden blafts overturned ! When flialt thou rife,
Balclutha's joy ! lovely car-borne Carth(?n ? — ^Who comes fo dark
from ocean's roar, like autumn's ihadowy cloud ?
Such were the words of the bards, in the day of their mourning :
I have accompanied their voice ; and added to their fong. My foul
has been mournful for Carthon j he fell in the days of his valour :
and thou, O Clefsammor ! where is thy dwelling in the air ? — Has
the youth forgot his wound ? And flies lie, on the clouds, with
thee ? 1 feel the fun, O Malvina, leave me to my refl. Perhaps
they may come to my dreams ; I think I hear a feeble voice. — The
beam of heaven delights to fhine on the grave of Carthon : I feel it
warm around.
O THOU that rolleft above*, round as the fliield of my fiithers !
Whence are thy beams, O fun ! thy everlafting light ? Thou comeft
forth, in thy awful beauty, ajid the ftars hide themfelves in the fky >
the moon, cold and pale, finks in the weftern wave. But thou thy-
felf movefl: alone : who can be a companion of thy courfe ! The
oaks of the mountains fall : the mountains themfelves decay with
* This paflage is fomething fimilar to Of this new world ; at whofe fight all the
Satan's adJrefs to the Sun, in the fourth ftars
book of Paradife Loft. Hide their diminifh'd heads ; to thee I call,
O thou that with furpafniig glory crown'd, But with no friendly voice, p.nd add thy name
Leoks from thy fole dominion like the god O fun !
YCflrs ;
142
C A R T II O N
years ; the ocean llirinks and grows again : the moon herfelf is lofl
in heaven; but thou art for ever the fame; rejoicing in the bright-
nefs of thy courfe. When the Avorld is dark with tempefts ; when
thunder rolls, and lightning flies ; thou lookeft in thy beauty, from
the clouds, and laugheft at the ftorm. But to Offian, thou lookeft
in vain ; for he beholds thy beams no more ; whether tliy yellow
hair flows on the eaftern clouds, or thou trembleft at the gates of
the weft. But thou art perhaps, like me, for a feafon, and thy
years will have an end. Thou fhalt fleep in thy clouds, carelefs of
the voice of the morning. Exult then, O fun, in the ftrength of
thy youth ! Age is dark and unlovely ; it is like the glimmering light
of the moon *, when it fliines through broken clouds, and the
mift is on the hills ; the blaft of north is on the plain, the traveller
flirinks in the midll: of his journey.
* ^uali per incertam lunamfub luc:ma- Thus wander travellers in woods by night,
Ugna By the moon's doubtful, and malignant light :
EJl iter in /this j ubi ccelum condidtt umbra W hen Jove in dufky clouds involves the fkies,
Jupjier, 'S rtbus nox ahjiulit atra colorem. And the faint crefcent flioots by fits before
V ViRG. their eyes. Drvd.
THE
( H3 )
THE
DEATHofCUCHULLIN
A P O E M*.
Is the wind on Fingal's fliield ? Or is the voice of part times in
my hall ? Sing on, fweet voice, for thou art pleafant, and car-
ried; away my night with joy. Sing on, C>;-Bragela, daughter of
Car-borne Songlan !
It
* Tradition throws confiderable light on affairs in Ireland : and the invafion of Swa-
the hiftory of Ireland, during the long reign ran happened two years after. In the twen-
of Fingal, the fon of Comhal, in Morven. ty-feventh year of Cuchullin's age, and the
— Arth, the fon of Cairbre, fupreme king third of his adniiniftration, Torlath, the
of Ireland, dying, was fucceeded by his fon fon of Cantela, fet up for himfelf in Con-
Cormac, a minor. The petty kings and naught, and advanced towards Temora, in
chiefs of the tribes met at Temora, the order to dethrone Cormac. Cuchullin
royal palace, in order to chufe, out of their marched againft him, came up with him
own number, a guardian to the young king, at the Lake of Lego, and totally defeated
Difputes, concerning the choice of a proper his forces. Torlath fell in the battle by
perfon, run high, and it was refolved to end Cuchullin's hand ; but as he himfelf prefled
all differences by giving the tuition of the too eagerly on the flying enemy, he was
young king to Cuchullin, the fon of Semo, mortally wounded by an arrow, and died
who had rendered himfelf famous by his the fecond day after,
great anions, and who refided, at the time. The good fortune of Cormac fell with
withConnal, thefonofCaithbat, inUlfter. Cuchullin: many fet up for themfelve?,
Cuchullin was but three and twenty years and anarchy and confufion reigned. At
old, when he alTumcd the management of laft Cormac was taken off, nobody knew
I how ;
J44 The D E A T H of C U C n U L L I N :
It is the white wave of the rock, and not CuchulHn's fails. Often
do the mifts deceive me for the (hip of my love ! when they rife
round fome ghoft, and fpread their grsy fkirts on the wind. Why doft
thou delay thy coming, fon of the generous Semo ? — Four times has
autumn returned with its wiiius, and raifed the feas of Togorma*,
how; and Cairbar, one of the competitors of Scotland retain on memory. Cuchu!-
fbr the throne, having defeated all his ri- lin is the moft famous Champion in the
vals, became fole monarch of Ireland. Irifli traditions and poems; in them he ifr
The family of Fingai, who were In the in- always called the ledoultable CuchuUin ; and
tereft of Cormac's family, were refolved the fables concerning his flrength and va-
to deprive Cairbar of the throne he had Jour are innumerable. Offian thought his
ufurped ; in particular, Ofcar the fon of expedition againft the Fir-bolg, or Belgae
Offiati had determined to revenge the death of Britain, a fLbje<Si fit for an epic poem ;
of Cathol, his friend, who had been aflaf- which was extant till of late, and was
finated by Cairbar. — The threats of Ofcar called Tora-na-tana, or a Dijpute about Pof-
reached Cairbar's ears : he invited him in fcjjlcm, as the war which was the founda-
a friendly manner to a feaft which he had tion of it, was commenced by the Britifb
prepared at the royal palace of Temora, Belgm, who inhabited Ireland, in order ta
refolving to pick a quarrel, and have fome extend their territories. — The fragments
pretext for killing him. that remain of this poem are animated
The quarrel happened ; the followers of with the genuine fpirit of OlEan ; fo that
both fought, and Cairbar and Ofcar fell by there can be do doubt that it was of his
mutual wounds : In the mean time Fingal compofition.
arrived from Scotland with an army, de- * Togoxm^, i.e. Tie if and of blue luateSy
feated the friends of Cairbar, and re-efta- one of the Hebrides, was fubjedt to Con-
bliihed the family of Cormac in the pof- nal, the fon of Caithbat, Cuchullin's friend.
fcffion of the kingdom. The prefent — He is fometimes called the fon of Colgar,
poem concerns the death of Cuchullin. from one of th.it name who was the founder
It is, in the original, called Duan lech Leigo, of the family. Connal, a few days be-
i, e. The Poem cf Lego's Lake, and is an fore the news of Torlath's revolt came to
epifode introduced in a great poem, which Temora, had failed to Togorma, his na-
cclebrated the lafl expedition of Fingal into tive ifle ; where he was detained by con-
Ireland. The greateft part of the poem frrry winds during the war in which Cu-
is loft, and nothing remains but fome epi- chullin was killed,
fudcf, which a few old people In the north
£ace
A P O E M. 145
fince thou hail been in tlic roar of battles, and Bragcla diftant far. —
Hills of the iile of mill ! when will ye anfwer to his hounds ?
But ye are dark in your clouds, and fad Bragela calls in vain. Nieht
comes rolling down : the fice of ocean fails. The heath-cockV
head is beneath his wing : the hind fleeps with the hart of the de-
fart. They fhall rife with the morning's light, and feed on the
moffy flream. Bat my tears return with the fun, my fighs come
on with the night. When wilt thou come in thine arms, O chief
of mofly Tura ?
Pleasant is thy voice in Offian's ear, daughter of car -borne
Sorglan ! But retire to the hall of fliells ; to the beam of the burning
oak. Attend to the murmur of the fea : it rolls at Dunfcaich's
walls : let lleep defcend on thy blue eyes, and the hero come to thy
dreams.
CuCHULLiN' fits at Lego's lake, at the dark rolling of wa-
ters. Night is around the hero ; and his thoufands fpread on the
heath : a hundred oaks burn in the midft, the feaft of fhells k fmok-
ing wide. — Carril ftrikes the harp, beneath a tree ; his gray locks
glitter in the beam j the ruftling blail: of night is near, and lifts his
aged hair. — His fong is of the blue Togorma, and of its chief, Cu-
chullin's friend.
Why art thou abfent, Connal, in the day of the gloomy ftorm ?
The chiefs of the fouth have convened againft the car-borne Cor-
mac : the winds detain thy fails, and thy blue waters roll around
thee. But Cormac is not alone : the fon of Semo fights his battles.
Semo's fon his battles fights ! the terror of the flranger ! he that is
U like
146 The DEATH of C U C H U L L I N r
like the vapour of death*, flowly borne by fultry winds. The fmt
reddens in its prefence, the people fall around.
Such was the fong of Carril, when a fon of the foe appeared;
he threw down his pointlefs fpear, and fpoke the words of Torlath :
Torlath the chief of heroes, from Lego's lable furge : he that led
his thoufands to battle, againffc car-borne Cormac. Corniac who
was diflant far, in Temora's -f- ccchoing halls : he learned to bend
the bow of his fathers ; and to lift the fpear. Nor long didil thou
lift the fpear, niildly-fhining beam of youth ! death ftands dim be-
hind thee, like the darkened half of the moon behind its growing
light.
CucHULLiN rofe before the bard ;{:, that came from generous
Torlath; he offered him the flicll of joy, and honoured the fon of
fongs. Sweet voice of Lego ! he faid, what are the words of Tor-
lath r Comes he to our feafl or battle, the car-borne (on of Cantela ]| ?
He comes to thy battle, replied the bard, to the founding ftrife
of fpears. When morning is gray on Lego, Torlath will fight
* O'j't) iJ' ix ]/£^'cuv icier,wri (pxi'jiTxi anp % The bards were the heralds of ancient
Ka'JM.«TCf f^ dv-:y.om SviTxm i^vv;j.ivoio. times ; and their perfons were facred on
HoM.Il. 5. account of their office. In later times
As vapour^bbwn by Aufter's fultry breath, they abufed that privilege; and as their
Pregnant with plagues, and ftieding feeds perfons were inviolable, they fatyrifed and
of death, lampooned fo freely thofe who were not
Beneath the rage of burning Sirius rife, liked by their patrons, that they became a
Choke the parch'd earth, and blacken all public nuifance. Screened under the cha-
the Ikies. Pope, rafler of heralds, they gtofly abufed the
■\ The royal palace of the Irifh kings ; enemy when he would not accept the terms
Tcamhrath according to fomc of the they offered.
bards. IJ Cean-teola', hgad of a famU;i ,
on
A POEM. 14';
on the plain : and wilt thou meet him, in thine arms, king of
the ifle of mift ? Terrible is the fpear of Torlath ! it is a meteor of
jiight. He lifts it, and the people fall : death fits in the lightning
of his fword.
Do I fear, replied Cuchullin, the fpear of car-borne Torlath ?
He is brave as a thoufand heroes ; but my foul delights in war. The
fword refts not by the fide of Cuchullin, bard of the times of old !
Morning fhall meet me on the plain, and gleam on the blue arms
of Semo's fon. — But fit thou, on the heath, O bard ! and let us
hear thy voice : partake of the joyful ihell ; and hear the fongs of
Temora.
This Is no time, replied the bard, to hear the fong of joy ; when
the mighty are to meet in battle like the ftrength of the waves of
Lego. Why art thou fo dark, Slimora * ! with all thy filent woods ?
No green ftar trembles on thy top ; no moon-beam on thy fide.
But the meteors of death are there, and the gray watry forms of
ghofls. Why art thou dark, Slimora ! with thy filent woods ?
He retired. In the found of his fong ; Carril accompanied his
voice. The mufic was like the memory of joys that are paft, plea-
fant and mournful to the foul. The ghofts of departed bards heard it
from Slimora's fide. Soft founds fpread along the wood, and the
filent valleys of night rejoice. So, when he fits in the filence of
noon, in the valley of his breeze, the humming of the mountain
bee comes to Offian's ear : the gale drowns it often in its courfe ; but
the plcafant found returns again.
Raise, faid Cuchullin, to his hundred bards, the fong of the
noble Fingal : that fong which he hears at night, when the dreairtS
■' Slia'-ir.or, ^reat hill,
U 2 of
148 The DEATH of C U C H U L L I N :
of his refl defcend : when the bards ftrike the diftant harp, and the
faint light gleams on Selma's walls. Or let the grief of Lara rife,
and the fighs of the mother of Calmar *, when he was fought, in
vain, on his hills j and fhe beheld his bow in the hall. Carril,
place the fliield of Caithbat on that branch ; and let the fpear of
Cuchullin be near j that the found of my battle may rife with the
gray beam of the eaft.
The hero leaned on his father's fliield : the fong of Lara rofe.
The hundred bards were diftant far : Carril alone is near the chief.
The words of the fong were his; and the found of his harp was
mournful.
Alcleth A -f- with the aged locks ! mother of car-borne Calmar !
why doft thou look towards the defart, to behold the return of thy
fon ? Thefe are not his heroes, dark on the heath : nor is that the
voice of Calmar : it is but the diflant grove, Alcletha ! but the roar
of the mountain wind !
Who ;{; bounds over Lara's ftream, fifter of the noble Calmar .''
Does not Alcletha behold his fpear ? But her eyes are dim ! Is it not
the fon of Matha, daughter of my love ?
* Calmar the fon of Matha. His death is f Aid cla'tha, decaying beauty, probably
related at large, in the third bookofFin- a poetical name given the mother of Calmar,
gal. He was the only fon of Matha j and by the bard himfelf.
the family was extinft in hini. — The feat % Alcletha fpeaks. Calmar had promifed
of the family was on the banks of the river to return, by a certain day, and his mother
Lara, in the neighbourhood of Lego, and and his fifter Alona are reprefented by the
probably near the place where Cuchullin bard as looking, with impatience, towards
lay ; which circumftance fuggefted to him, that quarter where they expe£^ed Calmar
the lamentation of Alcletha over her fon. would make his firft appearance.
It
A P O E M. 149
It is but an aged oak, Alcletha ! replied the lovdy weeping
Alona*; it is but an oak, Alcletha, bent over Lara's ftream. But
who comes along the plain ? forrow is in his fpeed. He lifts high
tlie fpear of Calmar. Alcletha, it is covered with blood !
But it is covered with the blood of foes -f, filler of car-borne Cal-
mar ! his fpear never returned unft:ained with blood ^, nor his bow
from the ftrife of the mighty. The battle is confumed in his pre-
fence : he is a flame of death, Alona ! Youth || of the mournful
fpcei ! where is the fon of Alcletha ? Does he return with his
fame ? in the midll: of his echoing fliields ? Thou art dark and
filent ! — Calmar is then no more. Tell me not, warrior, how he
fell, for I cannot hear of his wound.
Why dofl thou look towards the defart, mother of car-borne
Calmar ?
Such was the fong of Carril, when Cuchullin lay on his fliield :
the bards refted on their harps, and fleep fell foftly around. The
fon of Semo was awake alone ; his foul was fixed on the war. •
The burning oaks began to decay j faint red light is fpread around.
— A feeble voice is heard : the ghoft of Calmar came. He ftalked
in the beam. Dark is the wound in his fide. His hair is difordered
and loofe. Joy fits darkly on his face ; and he feems to invite
Cuchullin to his cave.
yv * Aluine, ex<j:ijiie!y beautiful, of Saul returned not empty. 2 Sam.
t Acletha fpeaks. i. 22.
X From the blood of the flain, from || She addrelTes herfelf to Larnir, Cal-
the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jona- mar's friend, who had returned with the
tliin returned not back, and the fword news of his death.
So\
150 The DEATH of C U C H U L L I N.
Son of the cloiidv night ! faid the rifing chief of Erin ; Why doft
thou bend thy dark eyes on me, ghoft of the car-borne Calmar ?
Wouldeft thou frighten me, O Mathas fon ! from the battles of
Cormac ? Thy hand was not feeble in war ; neither was thy voice *
for peace. How art thou changed, chief of Lara ! if thou now
doft advife to fly ! But, Calmar, I never fled. I never feared -f-
tlie ghofts of the defart. Small is their knowledge, and weak their
hands ; their dwelling is in the wind. But my foul grows in
danger, and rejoices in the noife of fteel. Retire thou to thy cave;
thou art not Calmar's ghoft j he delighted in battle, and his arm was
like the thunder of heaven.
He retired in his blaft with joy, for he had heard the voice of
his praife. The faint beam of the morning rofe, and the found of
Caithbat's buckler fpread. Green Ullin's warriors convened, like
the roar of many ftreams. — The horn of war is heard over Lego;
tlae mighty Torlath came.
Why doft thou come with thy thoufands, Cuchul'in, faid the chief
of Lego. I know the ftrength of thy arm, and thy foul is an un-
extinguidicd fire. — Wliy fight we not on the plain, and let our hofts
behold our deeds ? Let them behold us like roaring waves, that
tumble round a rock : the mariners haften away, and look on their
fvrife with fear.
Thou rifeft, like the fun, on my foul, replied the fon of Semo.
Thine arm is mighty, O Torlath ! and v/orthy of my wrath. Re-
tire, ye men of UUin, to Slimora's fliady fide ; behold the chief of
* See Calmar's fpeech, in the firfl. book t Sec Cuchullin's reply to Connal, con-
of Finoal. cerning Crugal's gholt. Fin. b, 2.
4 Erin,
A P O E M. 151
Erin, in the day of his fame. Carril ! tell to mighty Connal, if
Cuchullin mufl; fall, tell him I accufed the winds which roar on
Togorma's waves. — Never was he abfent in battle, when the flrife
of my fame arofe. — Let this fv/ord be before Cormac, like the beam
of heaven : , let his counfel found in Temora in the day of danger. —
He rufhed, in the found of his arms, like the terrible fpirit of
Loda *, when he comes in the roar of a thoufand ftorms, and fcatters
battles from his eyes. — He fits on a cloud over Lochlin's fcas : his
mighty hand is on his fvvord, and the winds lift his flaming locks. —
So terrible was Cuchullin in the day of his fame. — Torlath fell by
his hand, and Lego's heroes mourned. — They gather around the
chief like the clouds of the defart. — A thoufand fwords rofe at once;
a thoufand arrows flew ; but he flood like a rock in the midll: of a
roaring fea. They fell around ; he flirode in blood : dark Slimora
ecchoed wide. — The fons of Ullin came, and the battle fpread over
Lego. — The chief of Erin overcame ; he returned over the field
with his fame.
But pale he returned ! The joy of his face was dark. He rolled
his eyes in filence. — The fword hung, unfheathed, in his hand, and
his ipear bent at every fl:ep.
* Loda, in the third book of Fingal, is oloi- TsviXupici tpxfrai Apr?
mentioned as a place of worfliip in Scandi- Os'T'tiVm 7ro\ii/,oiSe fj.ir Msfccg, ohri x^oi/iuv
navia : by {he fpirit cj Loda, the poet pro- ©u^aoScifou spiJ'of /j-ei/ii ^vt/iwe ju.c<p^£(rfia(.
bably means Odin, the great deity of the So ftalks in arms the grifly god of Thrace,
northern nations. He is defcribed here When Jove to puniflifaithlefs men prepares,,
with all his terrors about him, not unlike And gives whole nations to the wafte of wars.
Mars, as he is introduced in a fimile, in Pope.
the feventh Iliad.
CaRRILv
1^2 The DEATH of CUCHUL LIN.
Carril, faid tiie king in fecret, the ftrength of CucliuUin fails.
My d.iys are with the years that are pafl : and no morning of mine
lliall arife. — They fliall feek me at Temora, but I fhall not be found.
Cormac will weep in his hall, and fay, " Wh?re is Tura's chief .^"
— But my name is renowned ! my fame in the fong of bards,
The youth will fay in fecret, O let me die as Cuchullin died^ renown
cloathed him like a robe ; and the light of his fame is great. Draw
the arrow from my fide; and lay Cuchullin beneath that oak. Place
the flileld of Caithbat near, that they may behold me amidft the
arms of my fathers. —
And is the fon of Semo fallen*, faid Carril with a figh ?
Mournful are Tura's walls j and forrow dwells at Dunfcaich. — Thy
fpoufe is left alone in her youth, the fon -j- of thy love is alone. —
He fliall come to Bragela, and aflc her why llie weeps. — He fliall
lift his eyes to the wall, and fee his father's fword. — Whofe fword is
that ^ he will fay : and the foul of his mother is fad. Who is that,
like the hart of the defart, in the murmur of his courfe ? — His eyes
look wildly round in fearch of his friend. Connal, fon of Colgar,
where haft thou been, when the mighty fell ? Did the feas of
Togorma roll round thee ? Was the wind of the fouth in thy fails ?
* The Irifli hiftorians have placed Cu- give him a great charadler for his wifJom
chuliin in the firft century.— The tranflator and valour.
has given his reafons for fixing liim in the f Conloch, who was afterwards very
third, in the dilTertation which is prefixed famous for his great exploits in Ireland.
to this colle£\ion. In other particulars He was fo remarkable for his dexterity in
the accounts of Keating and O'Flaherty handling the javelin, that when a good
coincide pretty nearly with Offian's poems, markfman is defcribed, it has palTed into a
and the traditions of the Highlands and proverb, in the north of Scotland, He is
Ifles. They fay that he was killed in the unerring as the arm of Conloch.
twcnty-feventh year of his age^ and they
The
A P O E M. 153
The mighty have fallen in battle, and thou waft; not there.— 'Let none
tell it in Selnia, nor in Morven's woody land ; Fingal will be fad,
and the fons of the defart mourn.
Bv the dark rolling waves of Lego they raifcd the hero's tomb.
■■ ■ ■ Luath j;, at a diftance, lies, the companion of Cuchullin, at the
chace. Blefl || be thy foul, fon of Semo -, thou wert mighty in
battle. — Thy flrength was like the ftrength of a flrcam : thy fpeed
like the eagle's * wing. Thy path in the battle was terrible : the
fteps of death were behind thy fword. Bleft be thy foul, fon of
Semo ; car-borne chief of Dunfcaich !
Thou haft not fallen by the fword of the mighty, neither was thy
blood on the fpear of the valiant. — The arrow came, like the fting
of death in a blaft : nor did the feeble hand, which drew the
bow, perceive it. Peace to thy foul, in thy cave, chief of the
ille of Mift!
The mighty are dlfperfed at Temora : there is none in Cor-
mac's hall. The king mourns in his youth, for he does not
behold thy coming. The found of thy fiiield is ceafed : his
J It was of old, the cuftom to bury the || This is the fong of the bards over Cu-
favourite dog near the mafter. This was chullin's tomb. Every ftanza clofes with
not peculiar to the ancient Scots, for we fome remarkable title of the hero, which
find it pradlifed by many other nations in was always the cuftom in funeral elegies.— '
their ages of beroifirr. There is a flone The verfe of the fong is a lyric meafure,
(hewn ftiU at Dunfcaich in the ifle of Sky, and it was of old fung to the harp.
to which Cuchullin commonly bound his * They were fwifter than eagles, they
dog Luath. — The ftone goes by his name were flronger than lions, 2 Sam. i. 23.
to this day.
X foes
154 The DEATH of CUCIIULLIN.
foes are gathering round. Soft be thy reft in thy cave, chief
of Erin's wars !
Bragela will not hope thy return, or fee thy fails in ocean's foam.
■Her fteps are not on the lliore : nor her ear open to the voice
of thy rowers.—- She fits in the hall of fhells, and fees the arms of
him that is no more. — Thine eyes are full of tears, daughter of
car-borne Sorglan !— — Bleft be thy foul in death, O chief of
fhady Cromla !
DAR-THULA,
( '55 )
D A R-T HULA:
A P O E M«.
Dx^UGHTER of heaven -f-, fair art thou! the filenceof thy face
is pleafant. Thou comefl forth in lovehnefs : the flars attend
thy blue fteps in the eaft. The clouds rejoice in thy prefence, O
moon, and brighten their dark-brown fides. Who is hke thee in
heaven.
* It mny not be improper here, to give
the ilory which is the foundation of this
jioem, as it is handed down by tradition. —
Ufnoth lord of Etha, which is probably
that part of Argylefliire which is near Loch
Eta, an arm of the fea in Lorn, had three
fons, Nathos, Althos, and Ardan by Slis-
s^iina, the daughter of Semo and fiiier to the
celebrated CuchuUin. The three brothers,
when very young, were fent over to Ireland,
by their father, to learn the ufe of arms, un-
der their uncle Cuchullin, who made a great
figure in that kingdom. They were juft
landed in Ulfter when the news of Cu-
chullin's death arrived. Nathos, though
very young, took the command of Cu-
cTiullin's army, made head againft Cairbar
the ufurper, and defeated him in feveral
battles. Cairbar at laft having found means
to murder Cormac the lawful king, the ar-
X
my of Nathos (hifted fides, and he himfelf
was obliged to return into Ulller, in order
to pafs over into Scotland.
Dar-thula, the daughter of Colla, with
whom Cairbar was in love, refided, at that
time, in Selama a caftie in Ulfter : fhe faw,
fell in love, and fled with Nathos ; but
a ftorm rifing at fea, they were unfortunately
driven back on that part of the coaft of UI-
fler, where Cairbar was encamped with hij
army. The three brothers, after having de-
fended themfelves, for fome time, with great
bravery, were overpowered and flain, and
the unfortunate Dar-thula killed herfcif up-
on the body of her beloved Nathos.
Oflian opens the poem, on the night pre-
ceding the death of the fons of Ufnoth, and
brings in, by way of epifode, what palTeJ
before. He relates the death of Dar-thula
diiferently from the common tradition ; his
2 account
1^6 D A R-T H U L A:
heaven, d;uightcr of the night ? The ftars are afhamed in thy pre-
fence, and turn alide their green, fparkhng eyes. — Whither doft
thou retire from thy courfe, when the darknefs * of thy countenance
grows ? Haft thou thy hall like. Offian ? Dwelleft thou in the flia-
dow of grief ? Have thy fifters fallen from heaven ? Are they who
rejoiced with thee, at night, no more ? — Yes ! — they have fallen, fair
light ! and thou doft often retire to mourn. But thou thyfelf
flialt fail, one night j and leave thy blue path in heaven. Theftars
will then lift their green heads : they who were aihamed in thy
prefence, will rejoice.
Thou art now clothed with thy brightnefs : look from thy gates
in the fky. Burft the cloud, O wind, that the daughter of night
may look forth, that the ftiaggy mountains may brighten, and the
ocean roll its blue waves, in light.
Nathos -f is on the deep, and Althos that beam of youth, Ar-
dan is near his brothers ; they move in the gloom of their courfe.
The fons of Ufnoth move in darkiiefs, from the wrath of car-borne
Cairbar | .
Who is that dim, by their fide ? the night has covered her beauty.
Her hair fighs on ocean's wind ; her robe ftreams in dufky wreaths.
She is like the fair- ghoft of heaven, in the midft of his fhadowy
account is the moft probable, as fuicidc f Nathos fignifies youthful, Ailthos, ex'
feems to hav-abeen unknown in thofe early quiftte beauty,. Ardan, pride.
times : for no traces of it are found in the % Cairbar, who murdered Cormac king
old poetry. of Ireland, and ufurpcd the throne. He was
f The addrefs to the moon is very beau- afterwards killed by Ofcar the fon of Oflian
tiful in the original. It is in a lyric mea- in a fingle combat. The poet, upon other
fure, and appears to have been fung to the occafion?, gives him the epithet of red-
barp. haired.
* The poet means the moon in her wSine.
mift.
A P O E M. 157
mift. Who is it but Dar-thuk *, the firft of Erin's maids ? She has
fled from the love of Cairbar, with the car-borne Nathos. But the
winds deceive thee, O Dar-thula; and deny the woody Etha, to
thy fails. Thefe are not thy mountains, Nathos, nor is that the
roar of thy climbing waves. The halls of Cairbar are near ; and the
towers of the foe lift their heads. Ullin flretches its green head into
the fea ; and Tura's bay receives the fliip. Where have ye been, ys
fouthern winds ! when the fons of my love were deceived ? But ye
have been fporting on pl.ains, and purfuing the thiftle's beard. O
that ye had been ruftling in the fails of Nathos, till the hills of Etha
rofe ! till they rofe in their clouds, and faw their coming chief!
Long haft thou been abfent, Nathos ! and the day of thy return
is pall -f-.
But the land of Grangers faw thee, lovely: thou waft lovely in
the eyes of Dar-thula. Thy face was like the light of the morning,
thy hair like the raven's wing. Thy foul was generous and mild,
like the hour of the fetting fun. Thy words were the gale of the
reeds, or the gliding flream of Lora.
But when the rage of battle rofe, thou waft like a fea in a ftorm ;
the clang of thy arms was terrible : the hoft vaniflied at the found
of thy courfe. It was then Dar-thula beheld thee, from the top
of her molTy tower : from the tower of Selama J, where her fa-
thers dwelt.
Lovely
* Dar-thula, or Dart-'huile, a iioman t That is, the day appointed by dcftiny.
lath fine eyes. She was the mod famous Wc find no deity in Oflian's poetry, if fate is
beauty of antiquity. To this day, when not one; of that he is very full in Tome of
a woman is praifed for her beauty, the his poems in the tranflator's hands,
common phrafe is, that Jhi is as l.vcly as t The poet does not mean that Selama
Dar-thula. which is mentioned as the feat of Tofcar in
Uliler,
158 D A R-T H U L A:
Lovely art thou, O flranger ! flie faid, for her trembling foul
arofe. Fair art thou in thy battles, friend of the fallen Cormac * \
Why dofl thou rufh on, in thy valour, youth of the ruddy look ?
Few are thy hands, in battle, againft the car-borne Cairbar ! — O that
I might be freed of his love -f- ! that I might rejoice in the prefence
of Nathos 1 Bleft are the rocks of Etha ; they will behold his
fteps at the chace ! they will fee his white bofom, when the winds
lift his raven hair !
Such were thy words, Dar-thula, in Selama's mofTy towers. But,
now, the night is round thee : and the winds have deceived thy
fails. The winds have deceived thy tails Dar-thula : their blufter-
ing found is high. Ceafe a little while, O north wind, and let me
hear the voice of the lovely. Thy voice is lovely, Dar-thula, be-
tween the ruftling blalls.
Are thefe the rocks of Nathos, and the roar of his mountain-
flreams ? Comes that beam of light from Ufnoth's nightly hall ? The
mift rolls around, and the beam is feeble : but the light of Dar-
thula's foul is the car-borne chief of Etha ! Son of the generous Uf-
noth, why that broken iigh ? Are we not in the land of ftrangers,
chief of echoing Etha ^
l-fiESE are not the rocks of Nathos, he replied, nor the roar
of his flreams. No light comes from Etha's halls, for they are
Uiflcr, in the poem of Conlath and Cu- of them, on that account, were called Se-
thona. The word in the original fignifies I'ma. The famous Se!ma ot Fi; gal is
either beautiful to lehold, or a place ivi h a derived from the fame root.
picafant or uide projpeii. In thofe times, * Cormac the young king of Ireland,
they built their houfes upon eminences, who was privately murdeieJ by Cairbar.
to command a view of the country, and f That is, of the love of Caiibar.
to prevent their being furpiizeJ : many
diftant
A P O E M. 1^9
diftant far. We are in the land of flrangcrs, in the land of car-borne
Cairbar. The winds have deceived us, Dar-thula. Ullin lifts
here her green hills. — Go towards the north, Althos ; be thy fteps,
Ardan, along the coaft; that the foe may not come in darknefs, and
our hopes of Etha fail.
I WILL go towards that moffy tower, and fee who dwells about
the beam. — Reft, Dar-thula, on the fliore ! reft in peace, thou beam
of light! the fword of Nathos is around thee, like the lishtnin'^'-
of heaven.
He went. She fit alone, and heard the rolling of the wave.
The big tear is in her eye ; and fhe looked for the car-borne
Nathos. — Her foul trembles at the blaft. And fhe turns her ear
towards the tread of his feet. The tread of his feet is not heard.
Where art thou, fon of my love ! The roar of the blaft is around
me. Dark is the cloudy night. But Nathos does not return.
What detains thee, chief of Etha ? — Have the foes met the hero ia
the ftrife of the night .'' —
He returned, but his face was dark : he had feen his departed
friend. — It was the wall of Tura, and the ghoft of Cuchullin ftalkcd
there. The fighing of his breaft was frequent ; and the decayed
flame of his eyes terrible. His Ipear was a column of mift : the
ftars looked dim through his form. His voice was like hollow
wind in a cave : and he told the tale of grief. The foul of Nathos
was fad, like the fun * in the day of milt, when his face
is watry and dim.
* Conditus in nukm, mtdioque refi^gerit — Thro' mifls he (hocts his fullen beams,
erbe; Vjrg. Frugal of light, in loofe and ftraggling
ftreams. Drvden.
8 Whv
i6o DART-HULA:
Why art thou Hid, O Nathos, faid the lovely daughter of CoUa ^
Thou art a pillar of light to Dar-thula : the joy of her eyes is in
Etha's chief. Where is my friend -f-, but Nathos ? My father
refts in the tomb. Silence dwells on Selama : fadnefs fpreads on
the blue ftreams of my land. iVIy friends have fallen, with Cormac.
The mighty were flain in the battle of UUin.
Evening darkened on the plain. The blue ftreams failed before
mine eyes. The unfrequent blafl: came ruffling in the tops of
Seliima's groves. My feat was beneath a tree on the walls of my
fathers. Truthil part before my foul ; the brother of my love j he
that was abfent |. in battle againft the car-borne Cairbar.
Bending on his fpear, the gray-haired Colla came: his down-
cafl; face is dark, and forrow dwells in his foul. His fword is on
the fide of the hero : the helmet of his fathers on his head. — The
battle grows in his breaft. He flrives to hide the tear.
Dar-thula, he fighing faid, thou art the lafl of Colla's race.
Truthil is fallen in battle. The king * of Selama is no more.
Cairbar comes, with his thoufands, towards Selama's walls. — Colla
will meet his pride, and revenge his fon. But where fliall I find
thy fafety, Dar-thula with the dark-brown hair ! thou art lovely as
the fun-beam of heaven, and thy friends are low !
-cj y«'f £t' a^.Xn loyalty to Cormac long after the death of
Erpti SaXTTwro Cuchullin.
■ 3:9;' ^lo-V'' irx-r.f x.x\ TTOTvia * It is very common, inOflian's poetr}',
jj-nrrp. HoM. vi. 41 1. '° g'^^ tl^^ title of King to every chief that
t The family of Colla prefcrved their ^^'^ remarkable for-his valour.
4 And
A POEM. i6i
And is the fon of battle fallen, I faid with a burfting fio-h ?
Ceafed the generous foul of Truthil to lighten through the field ?
— My fafety, Colla, is in that bow ; I have learned to pierce the
deer. Is not Cairbar like the hart of the defart, father of
fallen Truthil.?
The face of age brightened with joy : and the croudcd tears of
his eyes poured down. The lips of Colla trembled. His gray
beard whillled in the blaft. Thou art the filler of Truthil, he faid,
and thou burneft in the fire of his foul. Take, Dar-thula, take
that fpear, that brazen fliield, that burniflied helmet : they are the
fpoils of a warrior : a fon * of early )outh When the light
rifes on Selania, we go to meet the car-borne Cairbar. — But keep
thou near the arm of Colla ; beneath the fliadow of my fhield.
Thy father, Darthula, could once defend thee ; but age is trembling
on his hand. The ftrength of his arm has failed, and his foul is
darkened v/ith grief.
We paffed the night in forrow. The light of morning rofe. I
fhone in the arms of battle. The gray-haired hero moved be-
fore. The fons of Selama convened around the founding fhield
of Colla. But few were they in the plain, and their locks were
gray. The youths had fallen with Truthil, in the battle of car-
borne Cormac.
Companions of my youth ! faid Colla, it was not thus you
have feen me in arms. It was not thus I llrode to battle, when ths
great Confadan fell. But ye are laden with grief. The darknefs
* The poet, to make the (lory of Dar- ver}' young man othenvifc it wouI3 (hock
thula's arming herfelf for battle, more pro- all belief, that (he, who was very young,
bable, makes her armour to be that of a (hould be able to carry it.
Y of
i62 D A R - T H U L A :
of age comes like the mift of the defart. My fliield is worn with
years ; my fword is fixed * in its place. I faid to my foul, thy
evening fhall be calm, and thy departure like a fading light. But
the ftorm has returned j I bend like an aged oak. My boughs are
fallen on Selama, and I tremble in my place. Where art thou,
with thy fallen heroes, O my car-borne Truthil ! Thou anfwereft
not from thy rudiing blafl: ; and the foul of thy father is fad. But
I will be fad no more, Cairbar or CoUa muft fall. I feel the re-
turning ftrength of my arm. My heart leaps at the found of battle.
The hero drew his fword. The gleaming blades of his people
rofe. They moved along the plain. Their gray hair ftreamed in
the wind. — Cairbar fat, at the feaft, in the filent plain of Lona -}-.
He faw the coming of the heroes, and he called his chiefs to battle.
Why :}: fhould I tell to Nathos, how the flrife of battle grew !
I have feen thee, in the midft of thoufands, like the beam of hea-
ven's fire ; it is beautiful, but terrible ; the people fall in its red
courfe. The fpear of Colla flew, for he remembered the battles
of his youth. An arrow came with its found, and pierced the he-
ro's fide. He fell on his ecchoing fliield. My foul ftarted with
* It was the cuftom of thofe times, that feat of Truthil the fon of Colla, and the
every warrior at a certain age, or when he reft of the party of Cormac, when Colla
became unfit for the field, fixed his arms, and his aged warriors arrived to give him^
in the great hall, where the tribe feafted, battle.
upon joyful occafions. He was afterwards J The poet, by an artifice, avoids the
never to appear in battle ; and this ftage defcription of the battle of Lona, as it
of life was called the lime cf fixing of the would lie improper in the mouth of a wo-
armi. man, and could have nothing new, after
t Lona, a marjhy plain. It was the cu- the numerous defcriptions, of that kind, in
ftora, in the days of OlTian, to feaft after his other poems. He, at the fame time,^
a \\&.osy. Cairbar had juft provided an gives an opportunity to Dar thula to pafs a
entfrtainment for hii army, upon the de- fine compliment on hei lover.
fearj
A P O E M. 163
fear ; I ftretched my buckler over him ; but my heaving breaft was
feen. Cairbar came, with his fpear, and he beheld Selama's maid :
joy rofe on his dark-brown face j he flayed the lifted fleel. He raif-
cd the tomb of Colla; and brought me weeping to Selama. He
fpoke the words of love, but my foul was fad. I faw the fhields of
my fathers, and the fword of car-borne Truthil. I faw the arms of
the dead, and the tear was on my cheek.
Then thou didft come, O Nathos : and gloomy Cairbar fled. He
fled like the ghoft of the defart before the morning's beam. His
hofts were not near : and feeble was his arm againfl thy fteel.
Why * art thou fad, O Nathos ! faid the lovely maid of Colla ?
I HAVE met, replied the hero, the battle in my youth. My arni
could not lift the fpear, when firft the danger rofe ; but my foul
brightened before the war, as the green narrow vale, when the fun
pours his ftreamy beams, before he hides his head in a florm. My
foul brightened in danger before I faw Selama's fair; before I faw
thee, like a ftar, that fliines on the hill, at night ; the cloud flowly
comes, and threatens the lovely light.
We are in the land of the foe, and the winds have deceived as,
Dar-thula ! the flrength of our friends is not near, nor the moun-
tains of Etha. Where fhall I find thy peace, daughter of mighty
Colla ! The brothers of Nathos are brave : and his own fword has
fhone in war. But what are the fons of Ufnoth to the hoft of car-
borne Cairbar ! O that the winds had brought thy fails, Ofcar -f- king
* It is ufual with Oflian, to repeat, at the folved on the expedition, into Ireland, a-
end of the epifodes, the fentence which in- gainft Cairbar, who had afTaflinated his
troduced them. It brings back the mind of friend Cathol, the fon of Moran, an Irifh-
the reader to the main ftory of the poem. man of nob!e extraflion, and in the intereft
t Ofcar, the fon of Ollian, had long re- of the family af Cormac.
Y 2 of
]64 DAR-THULA:
of men ! thou didfi: promife to come to the battles of fallen Cormac.
Then would my hand bs ilrong as the flaming arm of death. Cair-
bar would tremble in his halls, and peace dwell round the lovely
Dar-thula. Eut why doft thou fall, my foul ? The fons of Ufnoth
may prevail.
And thev will prevail, O Nathos, faid the rifing foul of the maid :
never fliill Dar-thula behold the halls of gloomy Cairbar. Give me
thofe arms of brrfs. that glitter to that paffing meteor ; I fee them in
the dark-bofomed fliip. Dar-thula will enter the battle of fteel. —
Ghofl of the noble Colla ! do I behold thee on that cloud ? Who is
that dim belide thee ? It is the car-borne Truthil. Shall I behold
the halls of him that flew Selama's chief ! No: I will not behold
them, fpirits of my love !
Joy rofe in the face of Nathos, when he heard the white bofomed
maid. Daughter of Selama ! thou fhineft on my foul. Come, with
thy thoufmds, Cairbar ! the flrength of Nathos is returned. And
thou, O aged Ufnoth, flialt not hear that thy fon has fled. I remember
thy words on Etlia ; v/hen my fails begun to rife : when I fpread them
towards Ullin, towards the mofly walls of Tura. Thou goefl:, he
faid, O Nathos, to the king of fliields ; to Cuchullin chief of men
Vv'ho never fled from danger. Let not thine arm be feeble : neither
be thy thoughts of flight ; lefl: the fon of Semo fay that Etha's race
are weak. His words may come to Ufnoth, and fadden his foul
in the hall. The tear is on his cheek. He gave this fhin-
ing fword.
I came to Tura's bay : but the halls of Tura were fllent ; I looked '
around, and there was none to tell of the chief of Dunfcaich. I
went
A POEM. 165
went to the hall of his fhells, where the arms of his fathers hung.
But the arms were gone, and aged Lamhor * fat in tears.
Whence are the arms of fteel, faid the rifing Lamhor? The
light of the fpcar has long been abfent from Tura's dufky walls. —
Come ye from the rolling fea ? Or from Temora's -f- mournful halls ^
We come from the fea, I faid, from Ufnoth's rifing towers. We
are the fons of Slis-sdma :[, the daughter of car-borns Semo. Where
is Tura's chief, fon of the filent hall ? But why fliould Nathos
afk ? for I behold thy tears. How did the mighty fall, fon of the
lonely Tura ?
He fell not, Lamhor replied, like the filent ftar of night, when
it fhoots through darknefs and is no more. But he was like a me-
teor that falls in a diftant land ; death attends its green courfe, and
itfelf is the fign of wars. Mournful are the banks of Lego, and
the roar of ftreamy Lara ! There the hero fell, fon of the noble
Ufnoth.
And the hero fell in the midft of flaughter, I faid with a burning
figh. His hand was ftrong in battle ; and death was behind his
fword. — We came to Lego's mournful banks. We found his rifing
tomb. His conpanions in battle are there; his bards of many fongs.
Three days we mourned over the hero : on the fourtli, I ftruck the
fhield of Cr.ithbat. The heroes gathered around with joy, and fliook
their beamy fpears.
i^. * Lamh-mhor, michty band. mac, who was murdered there by Cairbar
+ Tem ra was the royal palace of the who ufurped his throne,
fupreme kings of Ireland. It is here called J Slis-feamha, ya,'/ bofom. She was the
mournful, on account of the death of Cor* wife of Ufnoth and daughter of Semo the
1 chief of the i/e ofmift.
Col AT H
i66 DAR-THULA:
Cor LATH was near with his hoft, the friend of car-borne Cair-
bar. We came like a ftream by night, and his heroes fell. When
the people of the valley rofe *, they faw their blood with morning's
light. But we rolled away, like wreaths of mill:, to Cormac's ec-
choing liall. Our fwords rofe to defend the king. But Temora's
halls were empty. Cormac had fallen in his youth. The king of
Erin was no more.
Sadness feized the fons of Ullin, they flowly, gloomily retired :
like clouds that, long having threatened rain, retire behind the hills.
The fons of Ufnoth moved, in their grief, towards Tura's founding
bay. We pafled by Selama, and Cairbar retired like Lano's mift,
when it is driven by the winds of the defart.
It was then I beheld thee, O maid, like the light of Etha's fun.
Lovely is that beam, I faid, and the crowded figh of my bofom rofe.
Thou cameft in thy beauty, Dar-thula, to Etha's mournful chief.
But the winds have deceived us, daughter of Colla, and the foe
is near.
Yes ! — the foe is near, faid the ruflling ftrength of Althos-}-. I
heard their clanging arms on the coaft, and faw the dark wreaths of
Erin's flandard. Diftind: is the voice of Cairbar :[:, and loud as
* And it came to pafs that night, that J Cairbar had gathered an army, to the
the angel of the Lord went out, and fmote coaft of Ulfter, in order to oppofe Fingal,
in the camp of the A/Tyrians, an hundred who prepared for an expedition into Ire-
fourfcore and five thoufand: and when they land to re-eftabiifh the houfe of Cormac
rofe early in the morning, behold, they on the throne, which Cairbar had ufurped.
were all dead men. 2 Kings xix. 35. Between the wings of Cairbar's army was
f Althos had juft returned from viewing the bay of Tura, into which thefhip of the
the coaft of Lena, whither he had been fons of Ufnoth was driven : fo that there was
fent by Nathos, the beginning of the night, no pofEbility of their efcaping.
2 Cromla's
A P O E M. 167
Cromla's falling ftream. He had feen the dark fliip on the fea, be-
fore the duflcy night came down. His people watch on Lena's *
plain, and lift ten thoufand fwords.
And let them lift ten thouiand fwords, faid Nathos with a fmile.
The ions of car-borne Ufnoth will never tremble in danger. Whjr
doft thou roll with all thy foam, thou roaring fea of Ullin ? Why
do ye ruftle, on your dark wings, ye whiftling tempefts of the fky ? —
Do ye think, ye ftorms, that ye keep Nathos on the coaft ? No :
his foul detains him, children of the night ! Althos ! bring my
father's arms : thou feeft them beaming to the flars. Bring the Ipcar
of Semo -j-, it flands in the dark-bofomed fhip.
He brought the arms. Nathos clothed his limbs in all their
fhining fteel. The flride of the chief is lovely : the joy of his eyes
terrible. He looks towards the coming of Cairbar. The wind is
ruftling in his hair. Dar-thula is filent at his fide : her look is-
fixed on the chief. She ftrives to hide the rifing figh, and two tears
fwell in her eyes.
Althos ! faid the chief of Etha, I fee a cave in that rock. Place
Dar-thula there : and let thy arm be ftrong. Ardan ! we meet the
foe, and call to battle gloomy Cairbar. O that he came in his
founding fteel, to meet the fon of Ufnoth ! Darthula ! if thou
flaalt efcape, look not on the fallen Nathos. Lift thy fails, O Al-
thos, towards the ecchoing groves of Etha.
* The fcene of the prefent poem is nearly here was given to Ufnoth on his marriage,
the fame with that of the epic poem in this it being the cuftom then for the father of
colle<£tion. The heath of Lena and Tura the lady to give his arms to his fon in law.
are often mentioned. The ceremony ufed upon thefe occafions
t Semo was grandfather to Nathos by is mentioned in other poems,
ihe mother's fide. The fpear mentioned
Teli.
i68 DAR-THULA:
Tell to the chief *, that his fon fell with fame ; that my fword
did not fliun the battle. Tell him I fell in the midft of thoufands,
and let the joy of his grief be great. Daughter of Coll a ! call the
maids to Etha's echoing hall. Let their fongs arife for Nathos,
when fliadow^' autumn returns. — O that the voice of Cona -f- might
be heard in my praife ! then would my fpirit rejoice in the midft of
my mountain winds.
And my voice ihall praife thee, Nathos chief of the woody Etha I
The voice of Ollian fliall rife in thy praife, fon of the generous Uf-
noth ! Why was I not on Lena, when the battle rofe ? Then would
the fword of Olliaa defend thee; or himlelf fail low.
We lat, that night, in Selma round the ftrength of the {hell.
The wind was abroad, in the oaks j the fpirit of the mountain ;]:
fhrieked. The blall came ruftling through the hall, and gently
touched my harp. The fou.ad was mournful and low, like the fong
of the tomb. Fingal heard it firft, and the crouded fjgbs of his
bofom rofe. Some of my heroes are low, fiid the gray-haired
kins: of Morven. I hear the found of death on the harp of my fon.
Offian, touch the founding firing ; bid the forrow rife; that their
fpirits may fly with joy to Morven's woody liills.
I TOUCHED the harp before the king, the found was mournful
and low. Bend forward from your clouds, I faid, ghofls of my fa-
thers ! bend ; lay by the red terror of your courfe, ajid receive the
falling chief; whether he comes from a diflant land, or rifes from
the rolling fea. Let his robe of mifl be near ; his fjjear that is
* Ufnoth. that deep and melancholy found which
f Ofiian, the fon of Fingal, is, often, precedes a fiorm ; well known to thofe who
poetically called the voice of Cona. live in a high country.
J By the fpirit of the mountain is meant
formed
A P O E M. 169
formed of a cloud. Place an half-extinguifhed meteor by his fide,
in the form of the hero's fword. And, oh ! let his countenance be
lovely, that his friends may delight in his prefence. Bend from
your clouds, I faid, ghofts of my fathers ! bend.
Such was my fong, in Selma, to the lightly-trembling harp.
But Nathos was on Ullin's fliore, furrounded by the night ; he heard
the voice of the foe amidft the roar of tumbling waves. Silent he
heard their voice, and refted on his fpear.
Morning rofe, with its beams; the fons of Erin appear j like
gray rocks, with all their trees, they fpread along the coaft. Cair-
bar flood, in the midft, and grimly fmiled when he faw the foe.
Nathos ruflied forward, in his ftrength ; nor could Dar-thula
flay behind. She came with the hero, lifting her fhining fpear.
And who are thefe, in their armour, in the pride of youth ? Who
but the fons of Ufnoth, Althos and dark-haired Ardan ?
Come, faid Nathos, come! chief of the high Temora ! Let our
battle be on the coaft for the white-bofomed maid. His people are
not with Nathos -, they are behind that rolling fea. Why doft thou
bring thy thoufands againft the chief of Etha ? Thou didfl fly * from
him, in battle, when his friends were around him.
Youth of the heart of pride, fliall Erin's king fight with thee ?
Thy fathers were not among the renowned, nor of the kings of
men. Are the arms of foes in their halls ? Or the fliields of other
times ? Cairbar is renowned in Temora, nor does he fight with
little men.
* He alludes to the flight of Cairbar from Selama.
Z The
ijQ D A R-T H U L A:
The tear ftarts from car-borne Nathos ; he turned his eyes to his
brothers. Their fpears flew, at once, and three heroes lay on earth.
Tlien the hght of their fwords gleamed on high ; the ranks of Erin
yield ; as a ridge of dark clouds before a blafl of wind.
Then Cairbar ordered his people, and they drew a thoufand
bows. A thoufimd arrows flew ; the fons of Ufnoth fell. They
fell like three young oaks which ftood alone on the hill ; the tra-
veller faw the lovely trees and wondered how they grew fo lonely >
the blaft of the defart came, by night, and laid their green heads
low; next day he returned but they were withered, and the heath
was bare.
Dar-thula ftood in fdent grief, and beheld their fall; no tear Is
in her eye : but her look is wildly fad. Pale was her cheek ; her
trembling lips broke fliort an half-formed word. Her dark hair
flew on the wind. But gloomy Cairbar came. Where is thy
lover now ? the car-borne chief of Etha ? Haft thou beheld the halls
of Ufnoth ? Or the dark-brown hills of Fingal ? My battle had
roared on Morven, did not the winds meet Dar-thula,. Fir/gal
himfeli would have been low and forrow dwelling in Selma.
Her fhield fell from Dar-thula's arm, her breaft of fnow appear-
ed. It appeared, but it was ftained with blood for an arrow was
fixed in her fide. She fell on the fallen Nathos, like a wreath of fnow.
Her dark hair fpreads on his face, and their blood is mixing round.
Daughter of Colla! thou art low f faid Cairbar's hundred
bards ; filence is at the blue ftreams of Selama, for Truthil's * race
have failed. When v/ilt thou rife in thy beauty, firft of Erin's
* Truthil was the founder of Dar-thula's family.
maids ?
A P O E M. 171
maids ? Thy fleep Is long in the tomb, and the morning diflant far.
The fun fhall not come to thy bed and fay, Awake * Dar-thula !
awake, thou firft of women ! the wind of Ipring is abroad. The
flowers fliake their heads on the green hills, the woods wave their
growing leaves. Retire, O fun, the daughter of Colla is afleep.
She will not come forth in her beauty : flie will not move, in the
ileps of her lovelinefs.
Such was the fong of the bards, when they raifed the tomb. I
fung, afterwards, over the grave, when the king of Morven came ;
when he came to green UUin to fight with car-borne Cairbar.
* Rife up, my love, my fair one, and in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth
come away. For lo, the winter is paft, her green figs, and the vines, it///A the ten-
the rain is over, and gone. The flowers der grape, give a good fmell. Arife, my
appear on the earth ; the time of finging is love, my fair one, and come away,
come, and the voice of the turtls is heard Solomon's Song.
Z2 TEMORA:
( 172 )
T E M O R A
A N-
EPIC POEM*.
THE blue waves of UUIn roll in liglit. The green hills are
covered with day. Trees Ihake their dufky heads in the
breeze ; and gray torrents pour their noily llreams. — Two green
hills, with their aged oaks, furround a narrow plain. The blue
courle
* Though the hlftory which is the foun-
dation of the prefent poem, was given in
the notes on the two pieces preceding, it
may not be here improper to recapitulate
feme part of what has been faid. — Imme-
diately after the death of Cuchullin, Cair-
bar, lord of Atha, openly fet up for him-
felf in Connaught, and having privately
murdered young king Cormac, became,
without oppofition, fole monarch of Ire-
land. The murder of Cormac was fo
much refented by Fingal, that he refolved
on an expedition into Ireland againft Cair-
bar. Early intelligence of his defigns came
to Cairbar, and he had gathered the tribes
together into Ulfier, to oppofe Fiiigal's
landing ; at the fame time his brother
4
Cathmor kept himfcif with an army near
Temora. — This Cathmor is one of the
fineft charaders in the old poetry. His
humanity, generofity, and hofpitality, were
unparallelled : in fhort, he had no fault, but
too much attachment to fo bad a brother
as Cairbar. — The prefent poem has its
name from Temora, the royal palace of
the Irifh kings, near which the lad andde-
cifive battle was fought between Fingal
and Cathmor. What has come to the
tran.lator's hands, in a regular conneclion,
is little more than the opening of the poem.
—This work appears, from the ftory of it,
which is ftill preferv'd, to have been one
of the greateft of Oflian's compofition?.
The variety of the charaders makes i: in-
0 teielling;
A N
EPIC
POEM.
courfe of the mountain-ftream is there ; Calrbar ftands on its banks.
His fpear fupports the king : the red eyes of his fear are fad.
Cormac rifes in his foul, with all his ghaftly wounds. The gray
form of the youth appears in the midft of darknefs, and the blood
pours from his airy lides. — Cairbar thrice threw his fpear on earth ;
and thrice he ftroked his beard. His fteps are fhort j he often ftopt :
and toffed his fmewy arms. He is like a cloud in the defart; that
varies its form to every blall : the valleys are fad around, and fear,
by turns, the fliower.
The king, at length, refumed his foul, and took liis pointed
fpear. He turned his eyes towards Lena *. The fcouts of ocean
appear. They appeared with fteps of fear, and often looked behind.
terefting; and the war, as it is carried on
by Fingal and Cathmor, affords inftances
of the greateft bravery, mixed with incom-
parably generous adliorw and fentiments.
One is at a lofs for which fide to declare
himfelf : and often wiQies, when both
commanders march to battle, that both
may return victorious. At length the good
fortune of Fingal preponderates, and the
family of Cormac are re-eftabli(hed on the
Irifli throne.
The Irifli traditions relate the afFair in
another light, and exclaim againft Fingal
for appointing thirty judges, or rather ty-
tants, at Temora, for regulating the affairs
of Ireland. They pretend to enumerate
•many nQi of oppreffion committed by thofe
judges ; and afBrm, that both they and a
part of Fingiil's army, which was left in
Ireland to enforce their laws, were at laft
expelled the kingdom, — Thus the Irifli tra-
ditions, fay the hiRorians of that nation.
It is faid, however, that thofe gentlemen
fometimes create fafls, in order afterwards-
to make remarks upon them ; at lead, that
they adopt for real h&s, the traditions of
their bard?, when they throw luftre on
the ancient ftate of their country.
The prefent poem opens in the morning.
Cairbar is reprefented as retired from the
reft of the Irifli chiefs, and tormented'
with remorfe for the murder of Cormac,,
when nev/s was brought him of Fincral's
landing. What pafled, preceding that day,
and is necefTary to be known for carrying
on the poem, is afterwards introduced by '
way of epifode.
* The fcene defcribcd here is nearly
that of the epic poem, Fingal. In this
neighbourhood alfo the fons of Ufnoth wer»
4tilkd.
Cairbar'
174 T E M O R A :
Cairbar knew that the mighty were near, and called his gloomy
chiefs. The founding ftcps of his heroes came. They drew, at
once, their fwords. There Morlath * flood with darkened face.
Hidalla's buHiy hair fighs in the wind. Red-haired Cormar bends
on his fpear, and rolls his fide-long-looking eyes. Wild is the look
of Malthos from beneath two fhaggy brows. — Foldath flands like
an oozy rock, that covers its dark lides with foam ; his Ipear is like
Slimora's fir, that meets the wind of heaven. His fhield is marked
with the ftrokes of battle ; and his red eye defpifes danger. Thefe
and a thoufand other chiefs furrounded car- borne Cairbar, when the
fcout of ocean came, Mor-annal -f-, from ftreamy Lena. — His eyes
hang forward from his face, his lips are trembling, pale.
Do the chiefs of Erin ftand, he faid, filent as the grove of even-
ing ? Stand they, like a filent wood, and Fingal on the coaft ?
Fingal, who is terrible in battle, the king of ftrcamy Morven.
And had: thou feen the warrior, faid Cairbar with a figh ? Are
his heroes many on the coaft ? Lifts he the ipear of battle ? Or
comes the king in peace ?
He comes not in peace, O Cairbar : for I have feen his forward
fpear :{:. It is a meteor of death : the blood of thoufands is on its
* M6r-lath, great in the day of btitt'e. country, kept the point of his fpear for-
Htda'la', wlUly looking hero. Cor-mar, ex- ward, it denoted in thofe di;ys that he
pertatfe3. Mikh-os, JIow to /peak. Fol- came in a hoftile manner, and accordingly
dath, generous. he was treated as an enemy ; if he kept the
t M6r-annail,7?n»^ breath; a very pro- po"'"' behind him, it was a token of friend-
per name for a fcout. ^'P' ^^^ ^^ ^as imniediU-^Iy invited to
X Mor-annal here alludes to the parti- the fcaft, according to the hofpitality of
cjlar appearance of Fingal's fpear. If a the times.
man, upon his iirfl landing in a flrange
fteel.
An E P I C P O E M. 175
fteel. He came firfl: to the (hore, ftrong in the gray hair of age.
Full rofe his linewy limbs, as he ftrode in his might. That fword
is by his fide which gives no fecond -j- wound. His fhield is terrible,
like the bloody moon, when it rifes in a florm. Then came
Offian king of fongs ; and Morni's fon, the firft of men. Connal
leaps forward on his ipear : Dermid Ipreads his dark-brown locks.
— Fillan bends his bow : Fergus ftrides in the pride of youth.
Who is that with aged locks ? A dark fliield is on his fide. His
fpear trembles at every ftep; and age is on his limbs. He bends his
dark face to the ground ; the king of fpears is fad ! It is Ufnoth,
0 Cairbar, coming to revenge his fons. He fees green Ullin with
tears, and he remembers the tombs of his children. But far before
the reft, the fon of Offian comes, bright in the fmiles of youth,
fair as the firft beams of the fun. His long hair falls on his back.
—His dark brows are half hid beneath his helmet of fteel. His
fword hangs loofe on the heroe's fide. His fpear glitters as he
moves. I fled from his terrible eyes, king of high Temora !
Then fly, thou feeble man, faid the gloomy wrath of Foldath .-
fly to the gray flreams of thy land, fon of the little foul ! Have not
1 feen that Ofcar ? I beheld the chief in battle. He is of the
mighty in danger : but there are others who lift the fpear. — Erin
has many fons as brave : yes — more brave, O car-borne Cairbar I
— Let Foldath meet him in the ftrength of his courfe, and flop
this mighty ftream. — My ipear is covered with the blood of th&
valiant ; my fliield is like Tura's walL
f Thiswas the famous fword of Fingal, it is faid of this fword, that it killed a
made by Luno, a fmith of Lochlin, ami man at every ftroke ; and that Fingal never
after him poetically called the fon of Luno: ufed it, but in times of the greateft danger.
Shall.
J76 T E M O R A:
Shall Foldath alone meet the foe, replied the dark-browed
Malthos ? Are not they numerous on our coaft, like the waters of
a thoufand ftreams ? Are not thefe the chiefs who vanquiihed
Swaran, when the fons of Erin fled? And fliall Foldath meet their
braveft hero r Foldath of the heart of pride ! take the ftrength of
the people by thy fide ; and let Malthos come. My fword is red
with flaughter, but who has heard my words * ?
Sons of green Erin, begun the mild Hidalla, let not Fingal
hear your words : left the foe rejoice, and his arni be ftrong in the
land. — Ye are brave, O warriors, and like the tempefts of the
defart ; they meet the rocks without fear, and overturn the woods
in their courfe. — But let us move in our ftrength, and flow as a
gathered cloud, when the winds drive it from behind. Then
lliall the mighty tremble, and the fpear drop from the hand of the
valiant. — We fee the cloud of death, they will fay ; and their faces
will turn pale. Fingal will mourn in his age j and fay that his
fame is ceafed. — Morven will behold his chiefs no more : the mofs
of years fliall grow in Selma.
Cairbar heard their words, in filence, like the cloud of a
fliower : it ftands dark on Cromla, till the lightning burfts its
fide : the valley gleams with red light ; the fpirits of the ilorm
rejoice. So ftood the filent king of Temora; at length his
words are heard.
Spread the feaft on Lena: and let my hundred bards attend.
And thou, red-hair *d 011a, take the harp of the king. Go to Ofcar
king of fwords, and bid him to our feaft. To-day we feaft and
* That is, who lias heard my vaunting ? He intended the expreflion as a rebuke to
the felf-praife of FolJath.
hear
An epic POE M.
77
hear the fong ; to-morrow break the fpcars. Tell him that I have
raifcd the tomb of Cathol * j and that my bards have Tung to his
ghoft. — Tell him that Cairbar has heard his fame at the ftream of
diftant Cariia-j-.
Cathmor :{: is not here; the generous brother of Cairbar ; he is
not here with his thoufands, and our arms are weak. Cathmor is a
foe to llrife at the feaft : his foul is bright as the fun. But Cairbar
fhall fight with Ofcar, chiefs of the high Temora ! His words for
Catl:ol were many ; and the wrath of Cairbar burns. He fliall fall
on Lena . and my fame fliall rife in blood.
The faces of the heroes brightened. They fpread over Lena's
heath. The feaft of fliclls is prepared. The fongs of the bards
arofe.
We heard ]] the voice of joy on the coaft, and we thought that the
mighty Cathmor came. Cathmor the friend of ftrangers ! the
brother
* Cathol the fon of Maronnan, or Moran,
was murdered by Cairbar, for his attachment
to the family of Cormac. He had attended
Ofcar to the war of Inis-thona, where they
contrafled a great friendfhip for one an-
other. Ofcar, immediately after the death
of Cathol, had fent a formal challenge to
Cairbar, which he prudently declined, but
conceived a fscret hatred againft Ofcar,
and had beforehand contrived to kill him at
the feaft, to which he here invites him.
t He alludes to the battle of Ofcar againft
Caros, kh^ ofJh:pi; who is fuppofed to be
the fame with Caraufius the ufurpcr.
A
X Ci\h-m6r,grtat In battle. Cairbar takes
advantage of his brother's abfence, to per-
petrate his ungenerous defigns againft Of-
car ; for the noble fpirit of Cathmor, had
he been prefent, would not have permitted
the laws of that hofpitality, for which he was
fo renowned himfelf, to be violated. The
brothers form a contraft: we do not deleft
the mean foul of Cairbar more, than we
admire the difinttrerted and generous mind
of Catlimor.
II Fingal's army heard the joy that was
in Cairbar's camp. The charader given
of Caihmor is agreeable to the times. Some,
a throu'h
178 T E M O R A:
brother of red-haired Cairbar. But their fouls were not the fame :
for the hght of heaven was in the bolbm of Cathmor. His towers
rofe on the banks of Atha : feven paths led to his halls. Seven chiefs
flood on thofe paths, and called the liranger to the feafl ! But Cath-
mor dwelt in the wood to avoid the voice of praife.
Olla came with his fongs. Ofcar went to Cairbar's feaft. Three
hundred heroes attended the chief, and the clang of their arms is
terrible. The gray dogs bounded on the heath, and their howling
is frequent. Fingal faw the departure of the hero : the foul of the
king was fad. He dreads the gloomy Caixbar : but who of the race
of Trenmor feared the foe ?
My fon lifted high the fpear of Cormac : an hundred bards met
Iiini with fongs. Cairbar concealed with fmiles the death that was
dark in his foul. The feaft is fpread, the fliells refound : joy bright-
ens the fitce of the hoft. But it was like the parting beam of the
fun, when he is to hide his red head, in a ftorm.
through oftentatlon, were hofpitable ; and
others fell naturally in;o a cuftom handed
down from their anceftors. But what
marks flrongly the character of Cathmor, is
his averfion to praife ; for he is repreferted
tj dwell in a wood to avoid the thanks of
his guefts ; which is ftill a higher degree
of generofity than that of Axylus in Ho-
mer : for the port does not fay, but the
good man might, at the head of his own
table, have heard with pleafure the praife
beftowed on him by the people he en-
(iTtained,
XlavTa; yap (piKiKxtv, ofd m oixia vxyct.
HoM. 6. 12.
Next Teuthras' fbn diAain'd the fands
with blood,
Axylus, hofpitable, rich and good :
In fair Arifbe's walls, his native place.
He held his featj a friend to human race.
Fafl by the road, his ever open door
Oblig'd the wealthy, and relieved the poor.
Pope.
Cairbar
An E P I C P O E M. 179
Cairbar rofe in his arms; darknefs gathers on his brow. The
hundred harps ceafed at once. The clang* of rtiields is heard. Far
diftant on the heath Olla raifed his fong of woe. My fon knew the
lign of death ; and rifing feized his fpear.
Oscar ! faid the dark-red Cairbar, I behold the fpear -f of Erin's
kings. The fpear of Temora ;{: glitters in thy hand, fon of the
woody Morven ! It was the pride of an hundred kings, the death of
heroes of old. Yield it, fon of OlTian, yield it to car- borne Cairbar.
Shall I yield, Ofcar replied, the gift of Erin's injured king:
the gift of fair-haired Cormac, when Ofcar fcattered his foes ? I came
to his halls of joy, when Swaran fled from Fingal. Gladnefs rofe
in the face of youth : he gave the fpear of Temora. Nor did he
give it to the feeble, O Cairbar, neither to the weak in foul. The
darknefs of thy face is not a ftorm to me ; nor are thine eyes the
flames of death. Do I fear thy clanging fliield ? Does my foul
tremble at OUa's fong ? No : Cairbar, frighten thou the feeble ; Of-
car is like a rock.
And wilt thou not yield the fpear, replied the riling pride of
Cairbar ? Are thy words mighty becaufe Fingal is near, the gray-
* When a chief was determined to kill a burgh, as a certain fignal of his approaching
man that was in his power already, it was deat'i.
ui'ual to fignify, that his death was intend- f Cormac, the fon of Arth, had given
ed, by the found of a ftiield ftruck with the the fpear, which is here the foundation of
blpnt end of a fpear; at the fame time the quarrel, to Ofcar when he came to con-
that a bard at diftance raifed the (/t(?//;-/ii'7^. gratulate him, upon Swaran's being ex-
A ceremony of another kind was long ufed pelied from Ireland.
in Scotland upon fuch occafions. Every t Ti' nior-ri*, tbe /jou^e of the great ii'>gt ^^■
body has heard that a bull's head was ferved the name of the royal palace of the fupreme
up to Lord Douglas in the caftle of Edin- kings of Ireland.
A a 2 haired
i8o T E M O R A:
haired \v?.rrior of Morven. He has fought with httle men. But
he muft vanilh before Cairbar, hke a thin pillar of milt before the
%vinds of Atha*.
• Were he who fought with little men near the chief of Atha:
Atha's chief would yield green Erin to avoid his rage. Speak not
of the mighty, O Cairbar ! but turn thy fword on me. Our ftrength
is equal : but Fingal is renowned ! the iirii of mortal men !
Their people faw the darkening chiefs. Their crowding fteps are
heard around. Their eyes roll in fire. A thoufand fwords are half
unflieathed. Red-haired Ol'a raifed the fong of battle : the trem-
bling joy of Ofcar's foul arofe : the wonted joy of his foul when Fin-
gal's horn was heard.
Dark as the fwelling wave of ocean before the rifing winds, when
it bends its head near the coaft, came on the hoft of Cairbar.'
Daughter of Tofcar -f- ! why that tear ? He is not fallen yet. Many
were the deaths of his arm before my hero fell ! — Behold they fall
before my fon like the groves in the defart, when an angry ghoft
ruflies through night, and takes their green heads in his hand !
Morlath falls : Maronnan dies : Conachar trembles in his blood.
Cairbar flirinks before Ofcar's fword ; and creeps in darknefs be-
hind his ftone. He lifted the fpear in fecret, and pierced my Of-
car's fide. He falls forward on his fliield : his knee fuftains the
chief : but his fpear is in his hand. See gloomy Cairbar '^ falls.
The fteel pierced his forehead, and divided his red hair behind. He
lay,
* Atlia,/'<j.7(!iy rwirr : the name of Calr- part of the poem, which rela:cd to the
bar's feat in Connaught. death of Ofcar her lover.
t The poet means Malvina, the daugh- j The Irifh hiftorian? place the death of
ter of Tofcar, to whom he addreffed that Cairbar, in the latter end of the third cen-
tury :
An E P I C P O E M. i8i
lay, like a fliattered rock, which Cromla fliakes from its fide. But
never more ihall Olcar rife ! he leans on his boffy fliield. His fpear
is in his terrible hand : Erin's Ions flood diftant and dark. Their
Ihouts arole, like the crowded noife of ftreams, and Lena echoed
around.
FiNGAL heard the found; and took his father's fpear. His fleps
are before us on the heath. He fpoke the words of woe. I hear
the noife of battle : and Ofcar is alone. Rife, ye fons of Morven,
and join the hero's fword.
OssiAN ruflied along the heath. Fillan bounded over Lena. Fer-
gus flew with feet of w-ind. Fingal flrode in his flrength, and the
light of his fhield is terrible. The fons of Erin faw it far diftant ;
they trembled in their fouls. They knew that the wrath of the
king arofe : and they forefaw their death. We firll arrived ; we
ibught; and Erin's chiefs withftood our rage. But when the king
came, in the found of his courfe, what heart of fleel could fhand !
Erin fled over Lena. Death purfued their flight.
We faw Ofcar leaning on his fliield. We faw his blood around.
Silence darkened on every hero's face. Each turned his back and
•wept. The king ftrove to hide his tears. His gray beard whiftled
in the wind. He bends his head over his fon : and his words are
mixed w'ith fighs.
And art thou fallen, Ofcar, in the midft of thy courfe ? the heart
of the aged beats over thee ! He fees thy coming battles. He be-
tury : they fay, he was killed in battle a- their bards, the tranflator thinks that the
gainft Ofcar the fon of OfEan, but deny account of Oflian is as probable : at the
that he fell by his hand. As they have word, it is but oppofing one tradition to
nothing to go upon but the traditions of another.
holds
i82 T E M O R A.
holds the battles which ought to come, but they are cut off from
thy fame. When fliall joy dwell at Selma ? When fhall the fong
of grief ceafe on Morven ? My fons fall by degrees : Fingal ihall be
the lalT: of his race. The fume wliich I have received fhall pafs
awav : my age will be without friends. I ihall fit like a gray cloud
in my hall : nor fhall I expetl the return of a fon, in the midft of
his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes of Morven ! never more fliall
Ofcar rile !
And they did weep, O Fingal; dear was the hero to their fouls.
He went out to battle, Und the foes vanifhed ; he returned, in peace,
amidfl their joy. No father mourned his fon flain in youth; no
brother his brother of love. They fell, without tears, for the chief
of the people was low ! Bran * is howling at his feet : gloomy Luiith
is fid, for he had often led them to the cliace ; to the bounding
roes of the defart.
When Ofcar beheld his friends around, his white bread: rofe
with a llgh. — The groans, he faid, of my aged heroes, the howling
of my dogs, the fudden burfls of the fong of grief, have melted Of-
car's foul. My foul, that never melted before ; it was like the fleel
of my fword. — Offian, carry me to my hills ! Raife the flones of my
fame. Place the horn of the deer, and my fword within my
narrow dwelling. — The torrent hereafter may raife the earth of
my tomb: the hunter may find the fleel and fay, " This has been
*' Ofcar's fword."
* Bran was one of Fingal's dogs.— He in the tranflator's liands, has given him the
was fo remarkable for his fleetnefs, that fame properties with Virgil's Camilla,
the poet, ill a piece which is not juft now
And
Ax E P I C POEM. 183
And falleft thou, fonofmyfame! And fhall I never fee thee,
Ofcar ! When others hear of their fons, I fliall not hear of thee.
The mofs is on the (tones of his tomb, and the mournful wind is
there. The battle (hall be fought without him : he ihall not pur-
fue the dark-brown hinds. When the warrior returns from baitles,
and tells of other lands, he will fay, I have feen a tomb, by tlie
roaring flream, where a warrior darkly dwells : he was flain by car-
borne Ofcar, the firft of mortal men. — I, perhaps, iliall hear him,
and a beam of joy will rife in my foul.
The night would have defcended in forrow, and morning re-
turned in the fhadow of grief: our chiefs would have flood like
cold dropping rocks on Lena, and have forgot the war, did not
the king difperfe his grief, and raife his mighty voice. The chiefs
as new-wakened from dreams, lift their heads around.
How long fhall we weep on Lena; or pour our tears in Ullin ?
The mighty will not return. Ofcar fliall not rife in his flrength.
The valiant muft fall one day, and be no more known on his hills.
— Where are our fathers, O warriors ! the chiefs of the times of
old ? They have fet like flars that have flione, we only hear the
found of their praife. But they were renowned in their day, and
the terror of other times. Thus fliall we pafs, O warriors, in the day
of our fall. Then let us be renowned when we may; and leave
our fame behind us, like the laft beams of the fun, when he hides
his red head in the well.
Ullin, my aged bard! take the fhip of the king. Carry Ofcar
to Selma, and let the daughters of Morven weep. We fhall fight
in Erin for the race of fallen Cornaac. The days of my years beg'n
to fail : I feel the weaknefs of my arm. My fathers bend from
3 their
i84 T E M O R A :
their clouds, to receive their gray-hair'd fon. But, Trenmor ! be-
fore I go hence, one beam of my fame {hall rife : fo lliall my days
end, as my years begun, in fame : my life fliall be one ftream of
light to other times.
Ullin rais'd his white fails : the wind of the fouth came forth.
He bounded on the waves towards Selma's walls. — I remained in
my grief, but my words were not heard. The feaft is fpread on
Lena : an hundred heroes reared the tomb of Cairbar : but no fong
is raifed over the chiefj for his foul had been dark and bloody. We
remembered the fall of Cormac ! and what could we fay in Cair-
bar's praife ?
The night came rolling down. The light of an hundred oaks
arofe. Fingal fat beneath a tree. The chief of Etha fat near the
king, the gray-hair'd flrength of Ufnoth.
Old Althan * ftood in the midfl, and told the tale of fallen
Cormac. Althan the fon of Conachar, the friend of car-borne
Cuchullin : he dwelt with Cormac in windy Temora, when Semo's
fon fought with generous Torlath. — The tale of Althan was mourn-
ful, and the tear was in his eye,
•f- The fetting fun was yellow on Dora J. Gray evening began
to defcend. Temora's woods fhook with the blaft of the unconftant
wind. A cloud, at length, gathered in the weft, and a red ftar
* Althan, the fon of Conachar, was the related, as here, the death of his mailer
.chief bard of Aith king of Ireland. After Cormac.
the death of Arth, Aldian attended his fon f Althan fpeaks.
Cormac, and was prefcnt at his death. — He J Doira, the woody fide cf a mountain;
had made his efcape from Cairhar, by the it is here a hill in the neighbourhood of
means of Cathmor, and co .;■ :g toP^ingal, Temora.
looked
An E P I C POEM. 185
looked from behind its edge. — I ftood in the wood alone, and faw a
ghofl on the darkening air. His ftride extended from hill to hill .-
his fhield was dim on his fide. It was the fon of Semo : I knew
the fadnefs of his face. But he paffed away in his blaft ; and all
was dark around. My foul was fad. I went to the hall of fhells.
A thoufand lights arofe : the hundred bards had ftrung the harp.
Cormac flood in the midft, like the morning fl:ar *, when it rejoices
on the eaftern hill, and its young beams are bathed in fhowers. —
The fword of Artho || was in the hand of the king ; and he looked
with joy on its polilhed lluds : thrice he attempted to draw it, and
thrice he failed : his yellow locks are fpread on his flioulders : his
cheeks of youth are red. — I mourned over the beam of youth, for
he was foon to fet.
Althan ! he faid, with a fmile, hafl thou beheld my lather?
Heavy is the fword of the king, furely his arm was ftrong. O tliat
I were like him in battle, when the rage of his wrath arofe ! thea
would I have met, like Cuchullin, the car-borne fon of Cantela !
But years may come on, O Althan ! and my arm be flrong. — Haft
thou heard of Semo's fon, the chief of high Temora ? He might
have returned with his fame ; for he promifed to return to-night.
My bards wait him with their fongs, and my feaft is fpread. —
I HEARD the king in filence. My tears began to flow. I hid
them with my gray locks ; but he perceived my grief.
* ^alis, ubi octant perfufus Lucifer unda. Shakes from his rofy locks the pearly dews ;
J^«fOT Venus ante alios ojlrirum diligit igna, Difpels the darknefs, and the day renews.
Extulit as Jacrum ccelo, tenebrafque refi.-cit. Dr yden.
ViRG. II ^„h^ or Artho, the father of Cormae
So from the feas exerts his radiant head, j^ing of Ireland,
The ftar, by whom the lights of heav 'ii are led :
B b SoJi
i86 T E M O R A :
Son of Conachar ! he faid. Is die king of Tura low ? Why burfts
thy figh in fecret ? And why defcends the tear ? — Comes the car-
borne Torlath ? Or the found of the red-haired Cairbar ? They
come ! — for I fee thy grief; and Tura's king is low ! — Shall I not
rufli to battle ?^-^But I cannot lift the arms of my fathers ! — O had
mine arm the ftrength of Cuchullin, foon would Cairbar fly ; the
fame of my fathers would be renewed; and the a<Stions of
other times !
He took his bow of yew. Tears flow from his fparkling eyes. —
Grief faddens around : the bards bend forward from their harps.
The blafl touches their firings, and the found of woe afcends.
A VOICE is heard at a diflance, as of one in grief; it was Carril
of other times, who came from the dark Slimora *. — He told of
the death of Cuchullin, and of his mighty deeds. The people were
fcattercd around his tomb : their arms lay on the ground. They
.had forgot the battle, for the found of his fliield had ceafed.
But who, laid the foft-voiced Carril, come like the bounding
roes ? their flature is like tlie young trees of the plain, growing
in a fhower : — Soft and. ruddy are their cheeks : but fearlefs fouls
look forth from their eyes ? Who but the fons of Ufnoth, the
car-borne chiefs of Etha ? The people rile on every fide, like the
llrength of an half-extinguifhed fire, when the winds come fuddenly
from the defart, on their ruftling wings. — The found of Caithbat's
fhield was heard. The heroes faw Cuchullin -f; in the form of
lovely Nathos. So rolled his fparkling eyes, and fuch was his fleps
* Slimora, a hill in Connaught, near t That is, they faw a manifeft likenefs
which Cuchullin was killed. betweentheperfonof NathosamiCuchuliin.
An E P I C POEM. 187
on his heath. Battles are fought at Lego : the fword of Na-
thos prevails. Soon ihalt thou behold him in thy halls, king of
woody Temora !
And foon may I behold him, O Carril ! replied the returning joy
of Cormac. But my foul is fad for Cuchullin j his voice was plea-
fant in mine ear. — Often have we moved on Dora, at the chace of
the dark-brown hinds : his bow was unerring on the mountains. —
He fpoke of niighty men. He told of the deeds of my fathers ; and
I felt the joy of my breaft. But fit thou, at the feaft, O Carril;;
I have often heard thy voice. Sing in the praife of Cuchullin ; and
of that mighty flranger.
Day rofe on Temora, with all the beams of the eaft. Trathin
came to the hall, the fon of old Gellama |. — I behold, he faid, a-
dark cloud in the defart, king of Innisfail ! a cloud it feemed at
firft, but now a croud of men. One ftrides before them in his
ftrength; and his red hair flies in the wind. His fhield glitters to
the beam of the eaft. His fpear is in his hand.
Call him to the feafl: of Temora, replied the king of Erin. My
hall is the houfe of ftrangers, fon of the generous Gellama ! — Per-
haps it is the chief of Etha, coming in the found of his renown. —
Hail, mighty Granger, art thou of the friends of Cormac ? — But
Carril, he is dark, and unlovely ; and he draws his fword. Is that
the fon of Ufnoth, bard of the times of old ?
It is not the fon of Ufnoth, faid Carril, but the chief of Atha,
Why comefl thou in thy arms to Temora, Cairbar of the
$ GeaHamha, white- hand».'l.
B b 2 glaonatf
i88 T E M O R A :
gloomy brow ? Let not thy fword rife againfl Cormac ! Whither
doft thou turn thy fpeed ?
He pafTed on in his darknefs, and feized the hand of the king.
Cormac forefaw his death, and the rage of his eyes arofe. — Retire,
thou gloomy chief of Atha : Nathos comes with battle. Theu
art bold in Cormac's hall, for his arm is weak. — The fword entered
Cormac's fide : he fell in the halls of his fathers. His fair hair is
in the duft. His blood is fmoaking round.
And art tliou fallen in thy halls, I faid ||, O fon of noble Artho?
The fliield of CuchuUin was not near. Nor the fjjear of thy
father. Mournful are the mountains of Erin, for the chief of the
people is low ! Bleft be thy foul, O Cormac ! thou art fnatched
from the midfl: of thy courfe.
Mv words came to the ears of Cairbar, and he clofed us-{- in the
midft of darknefs. He feared to ftretch his fword to the bards * ;
though his foul was dark. Three days we pined alone : on the
fourth, the noble Cathmor came. — He heard our voice from the
eavc J he turned the eye of his wrath on Cairbar.
Chief of Atha ! he faid, how long wilt thou pain my foul ? Thy
heart is like the rock of the defart ; and thy thoughts are dark. —
But thou art the brother of Cathmor, and he will fight thy battles.
But Cathmor's foul is not like thine, thou feeble hand of war !
The light of my bofom is ftained with thy deeds : the bards will
not iing of my renown. They may fay, •' Cathmor was brave,
H Althan fpeaks. * Tlie perfons of the bards were Co fa-
f That is, himfelf and Carril, as it af- cred, that even he, who had juft murdered
ti^rwards appears. liis fovcreign, feared to kill them.
8 " but
An E P I C POEM. 189
'^ but lie fought for gloomy Cairbar." They will pafs over vwj
tomb in filence, and my fame fliall not be heard. — Cairbar ! loofc
the bards : they are the fons of other times. Their voice lliall be
heard in other ages, when the kings of Temora have failed.
We came forth at the words of the chief. We faw him in his
ftrength. He was like thy youth, O Fiiigal, when thou firft didft
lift the fpear. — His face was like the plain of the fun when it is
bright : no darknefs travelled over his brow. But he came with
his thoufands to Ullin ; to aid the red-haired Cairbar : and now he
«aomes to revenge his death, O king of woody Morven, —
And let him come, replied the king ; I love a foe like Cathmor.
His foul is great; his arm is ftrong, and his battles are full of fame.
But the little foul is like a vapour that hovers round the marfliy
lake : it never rifes on the green hill, left the winds meet it there :
its dwelling is in the cave, and it fends forth the dart of death.
UsNOTH ! thou haft heard the fame of Etha's car-borne chiefs.—
Our young heroes, O warrior, are like the renown of our fathers.
—They fight in youth, and they fall : their names are in the fong.
— But we are old, O Ufnoth, let us not fall like aged oaks ; which
the blaft overturns in fecret. The hunter came paft, and fnv them
lying gray acrofs a ftream. How have thefe fallen, he faid, and
whiftling pafTed along.
Raise the fong of joy, ye bards of Morven, that our fouls may
iorget the paft. — The red ftars look on us from the clouds, and
filently defcend. Soon (hall the gray beam of the morning rife,
and fliev/ us the foes of Cormac. Fillan ! take the fpear of the
kino;;
190 T E Af O R A :
king ; go to Mora's dark-brown fide. Let thine eyes travel
over the heath, like flames of fire. Obferve the foes of Fingal,
and the courfe of generous Cathmor. I hear a diltant found,
like the falling of rocks in the defart. But ftrike thou thy
fhield, at timey, that they may not come through night, and the
fame of Morven ceafe. — I begin to be alone, my fon, and I dread,
the fall of my renown.
The voice of the bards arofe. The king leaned on the fliield,
of Trenmor. — Sleep defcended on his eyes, and his future battles
rofe in his dreams. The hofl: are fleeping around. Dark-haired
Fillan obferved the foe. His fteps are on a diftant hill : we hear,
at times, his clanging fhield.
One of the Fragments of Ancient Poetry have bore the fame character, as well aa
lately publifhed, gives a different account name, with Ofcar the fon of Oflian.
of the death of Ofcar, the fon of Oflian. Though the tranflator thinks he has good
The tranflator, though he well knew reafon to rejeft the fragment as the com-
the more probable tradition concerning pofition of OiTian ; yet as it is, after all,
that hero, was unwilling to rejefl a poem, ftill fomewhat doubtful whether it is or
which, if not really of Offian's compofition, not, he has here fubjoined it.
has much of his manner, and concife turn
. _ n r "Xl/H Y opencft thou afrefh the fprinp; of
of expreliion. A more correct conv of VV . . „ . r a i •
, ^ , ■ , , r ' L "^V grier, O fon of Aipin, mquiring
that fra2;ment, winch has iince come to the • ",,,., ,, ,
how Ofcar fell r My eyes are blind with
tranflator's hands, has enabled him to cor- , , , r,
tears; but memory beams on my heart. How
rett the miflake, into which a fimilarity of , , , r ■ i , ,■ ,
■* can 1 relate the mournful death of the
names had led thcfe who handed down the ijr, t i r^t.- r r l
head of the people! Chief of the war-
poem by tradition. — The heroes of the ,• ^^ „ r n, n t r u
'^ ■' riors, Ofcar, my fon, fliall I fee thee no
piece are Ofcar the fon of Caruth, and „ ,
more !
Dermid the fon of Diaran. Oflian, or He fell as the moon in a ftorm ; as the
perhaps his imitator, opens the poem with f^n from the midft of his courfe, when
•a lamentation for Ofcar, and afterwards, clouds rife from the wafle of the waves,
by an cafy tranfition, relates the ftory of when the blacknefs of the ftorm inwraps
Ofcar the fon of Caruth, who feems to the rocks of Ardannider. I, like an an-
cient
An epic poem.
rgi
cicnt oak on Morven, I moulder alone in
my place. The blaft hath lopped my
branches away ; and I tremble at the
win2;s of the north. Chief of the war-
Son of Caruth, faid Derniid, I love ;
O Ofcar, I love this maid. But her foul
deavcth unto thee ; and nothing can heal
Dermid. Here, pierce this bofjm, Ofcar j
riors, Ofcar, my fon ! fhall I fee thee no relieve me, my friend, with thy fvvord.
more !
But, fon of Alpin, the hero fell not
harmlefs as the grafs of the field ; the blood
of the mighty was on his fword, and he
travelled with death through the ranks of
their pride. But Ofcar, thou fon of Ca-
ruth, thou haft fallen low ! No enemy fell
by thy hand. Thy fpear was ftained with
the blood of thy friend.
Dermid and Ofcar were one : They
reaped the battle together. Their friend-
fhip was flrong as their fleel ; and death
walked between them to the field. They
came on the foe like two rocks falling
from the brows of Ardven. Their fwords
were ftained with the blood of the valiant :
warriors fainted at their names. Who was
equal to Ofcar, but Dermid ? and who to
Dermid, but Ofcar !
They killed might)' Dargo in the field ;
Dargo who never fled in war. His daugh-
ter Wis fair as the morn ; mild as the
beam of night. Her eyes, like two ftars
My fword, fonofDlaran, (hall ne'/rr be
ftained with the blood of Dermid.
Who then is worthy to flay me, O
Ofcar fon of Caruth ? Let not my life
pafs away unknown. Let none but Ofcar
flay me. Send me with honour to the
grave, and let my death be renowned.
Dermid, make ufe of thy fword ; fon
of Diaran, wield thy fteel. Would that
I fell with thee ! that my death came from
the hand of Dermid !
They fought by the brook of the moun-
tain, by the ftreams of Branno. Blood
tinged the running water, and curdled
round the mofly ftones. The ftately Der-
mid fell ; he fell, and fmiled in death.
And falleft thou, fon of Diaran, fallcft
thou by Ofcar's hand ! Dermid who ne-
ver yielded in war, thus do I fee thee fall !
He went, and returned to the maid
of his love ; he returned, but (he perceived
his grief.
Why that gloom, fon of Caruth ? what
in a fhower : her breath, the gde of ftiades thy mighty foul ?
fpring : her breafts, as the new-fallen Though once renowned for the bow,
fnow floating on. the.' moving heath. The O maid, I have loft my fame. Fixed on a
warriors faw her, and loved ; their fouls
were fixed on the maid. Each loved her
as his fame; each muft pofiefs her or die.
But her foul was fixed on Ofcar j the fon
of Caruth was the youth of her love. She
forgot the blood of her father; and loved
the hand that flew him.
tree by the brook of the hill, is the fhield
of the valiant Gormur, whom I flew in
battle. I have wafted the day in vain, nor
could my arrow pierce it.
Let me try, fon of Caruth, the ft:ill of
Dargo's daughter. My hands were taught
the bow : my father delighted in my (kill.
She
192
T E M O R A, &c.
She went. He flood behind the fliield.
Her arrow flew, and pierced his breaft.
Blefled be that hand of fnow ; and blef-
fed that bow of yew ! Who but the
daughter of Dargo was worthy to flay the
fon of Caruth ? Lay me in the earth, my
fair one ; lay me by the fide of Dcrmid.
Ofcar ! the maid replied, I have the foul
of the mighty Dargo. Well pleafed I can
meet death. My forrow I can end.- .
She pierced her white bofom with the fleel*
She fell ; fhe trembled ; anJ died.
By the brook of the hill their graves are
laid ; a birch's unequal fhadc covers their
tomb. Often on their green earthen tombs
the branchy fons of the mountain feed,
when mid- day is all in flame?, and fUeace
over all the hills,
CARRIC-
( "93 )
CARRIC-THURA
P O E M*.
HAST -f- thou left thy blue courfe in heaven, golden-haired
fon of the fky ! The weft has opened its gates j the bed of thy
repofe is there. The waves come to behold thy beauty : they lift
their trembling heads : they fee thee lovely in thy fleep ; but they
ihrink away with fear. Reft, in thy fliadowy cave, O fun ! and
let thy return be in joy. But let a thoufand lights arife to the
* Fingal, returning from an expedition
which he had made into the Roman pro-
vince, refolved to vifit Cathulla king of
Inis-tore, and brother to Comala, whofe
ftory is related, at large, in the dramatic
poem, publifhed in this colleflion. Upon
his coming in fight of Carric-thura, the pa-
lace of Cathulia, he obferved a flame on its
top, which, in thofe days, was a fignal
of diftrefs. The wind drove him into a
bay, at fome diftance from Carric-thura,
and he was obliged to pafs the night on the
fhore. Next day he attacked the army of
Frothal king of Sora who had befieged
Cathulla in his palace of Carric-thura, and
took Frothal himfelf prifoner, after he had
engaged him in a fingle combat. The de-
liverance of Carric-thura is the fubje£t of
the poem, but feveral other eplfodes are
interwoven with it. It appears from tra-
dition, that this poem was addreffed to a
Culdee, or one of the firft Chriftian milTio-
naries, and that the ftory of the Spirit
of Lodot fuppofed to be the ancient Odin
of Scandinavia, was introduced byOflian in
oppofition to the Culdee's doflrine. Be
this as it will, it lets us into Offian's no-
tions of a fuperior being ; and fhews that
he was not addifled to the fuperftiiion
which prevailed all the world Qver, before
the introduction of Chriftianity.
f The fong of Ullin, with which the
poem opens, is in a lyric meafure. It was
ufual with Fingal, when, he returned from
his expeditions, to fend his hards finging
before him. This fpecies of triumph ij
called, by Oflian, the_/«;;j ofviP.ory.
Cc
found
,94 C A R R I C - T H U R A:
found of the harps of Selma : let the beam fpread in the hall, the
king of fhells is returned ! The flrife of Crona * is paft, like founds
that are no more : raife the fong, O bards, the king is returned, with
his fame !
Such was the fong of UlHn, when Fingal returned from battle ;
when he returned in the fair bluftiing of youtli ; A\'ith all his heavy
locks. His blue arms were on the hero ; like a gray cloud on the
fun, when he moves in his robes of mift, and fhews but half his
beams. His heroes follow the king : the feaft of fliells is fpread*
Fingal turns to his bards, and bids the fong to rife.
Voices of ecchoing Cona ! he faid, O bards of other times ! Ye,
on whofe fouls the blue hofts of our fathers rife ! ftrike the harp in
my hall ; and let Fingal hear the fong. Pleafant is the joy of grief!
it is like the fliower of ^ring, when it fbftens the branch of the
oak, and the young leaf lifts its green head. Sing on, O bards, to-
morrow we lift the fail. My blue courfe is through the ocean,
to Carric-tliura's walls; the moffy walls of Sarno, where Co-
ftiala dwelt. There the noble Cathulla, fpreads the feaft of fhells.
The boars of his woods are many, and the found of the chace
fliall arife.
Cronnan -f-, fon of the fong! fald Ullin, Minona, graceful at
the harp ! raife tlie fong of Shilric, to pleafe the king of Morven. Let
* Oflian has celebrated the J}ri/e of Cro- Cronnan and Minona, whofe very names
»(7, in a particular poem. This poem is denote that they were fingers, who per-
conne£led with it, but it was impoflibie for formed in public. Cronnan fignifies a
the tranflator to procure that part which mournful fourth, Minona, or Min-'6nn,foft
relates to Crona, with any degree of purity. air.- All the dramatic poems of Oflian
t One fliould think that the parts of appear to have been prefented before Fia-
Shiliic and Viavela were repr«fented by gal, upon folemn occafions.
Vinvela
A P O E M. tp^
Vlnvela come In her beauty, like the fliowery bow, when it (hews
its lovely head on the lake, and the fetting fun is bright. And fhe
comes, O Fingal ! her voice is foft but fad. ■^ .
ViNVELA.
My love Is a fon of the hill. He purfues the flying deer. His
gray dogs are panting around him ; his bow-ftring founds in the
wind. Doft thou reft by the fount of the rock, or by the noife of
the mountain-ftream ? the ruflies are nodding with the wind, the
mift is flying over the hill. I will approach my love unperceived,
and fee him from the rock. Lovely I faw thee firft by the aged oak
of Branno * ; thou wert returning tall from the chace ; the faireft
among thy frlende.
Shilric.
What voice is that I hear ? that voice like the fummer-wind.—
I fit not by the nodding rulhes ; I hear not the fount of the rock.
Afar, Vinvela f, afar I go to the wars of Fingal. My dogs attend
me no more. No more I tread the hill. No more from on high I
fee thee, fair-moving by the ftream of the plain j bright as the bow
of heaven j as the moon on the wefliern wave.
Vinvela.
Then thou art gone, O Shilric ! and I am alone on the hill. The
deer are feen on the brow; void of fear they graze along. No
more they dread the wind; no more the rufl:Ung tree. The hunter
* Bran, or Branno, flgnifies a mountain- cular one which falls into the Tay at Dun-
Jlieam : it is here feme river known by that keld.
name, in the days of Oflian. There are f Bhin-bheul, a woman with a melodious
feveral fmail rivers in the north of Scotland voice. Bb in the Galic Language has the
ftill retaining the name of Bran j in parti- fame found with the v in Englifij.
Cc 2 is
196 C A R R I C - T H U R A:
ts mr removed; he is In the field of graves. Strangers ! fons of
the waves ! fpare my lovely Shilric.
Shilric.
If fall I muft in the field, raife high my grave, Vinvela. Gray
flones and heaped-up earth, fliall mark me to future times. When
the hunter fliall fit by the mound, and produce his food at noon,
" Some warrior refis here," he will fay ; and my fame fliall live in
his praife. Remember me, Vinvela, when low on earth I lie !
Vinvela.
Yes ! — I will remember thee — Indeed my Shilric will fall. What
fliall I do, my love ! when thou art gone for ever ? Through thefe
hills I will go at noon : I will go through the filent heath. There
I will fee the place of thy reft, returning from the chace. Indeed,
my Shilric will fall j but I will remember him.
And I remember the chief, faid the king of woody Morven; he
confumed the battle in his rage. But now my eyes behold him not.
I met him, one day, on the hill ; his cheek was pale i his brow
was dark. The figh was frequent in his breafl : his fteps were to-
wards the defart. But now he is not in the crowd of my chiefs,
when the founds of my fhields arife. Dwells he in the narrow
houfe *", the chief of high Carmora -f ?
Cronnan ! faid Ullin of other times, raife the fong of Shilric;
when he returned to his hills, and Vinvela was no more. He leaned
on her gray mofTy flone ; he thought Vinvela lived. He faw her
fair-moving J on the plain : but the bright form lafled not : the
* The grave. was, that the former appeared fometimes in
)V . f Carn-mor, high rocky hill. the day-time in lonely unfrequented places,
X The diftin£lion, which the ancient but the latter never but by night, and in a
Scots made between good and bad fpirits, difmal gloomy fcene.
J fun-
A POEM. 197
fun-beam fled from the field, and fhe was feen no more. Hear the
fong of Shilric, it is foft but fad.
I SIT by the mofTy fountain; on the top of the hill of winds.
One tree is ruftling above me. Dark waves roll over the heath. The
lake is troubled below. The deer defcend from the hill. No hun-
ter at a diftance is feen ; no whiftling cow-herd is nigh. It is mid-
day : but all is filent. Sad are my thoughts alone. Didft thou but
appear, O my love, a wanderer on the heath ! thy hair floating on
the wind behind thee ; thy bofom heaving on the fight j thine eyes
full of tears for thy friends, whom the mift of the hill had con-
cealed ! Thee I would comfort, my love, and bring thee to thy fa-
ther's houfe.
But is it fhe that there appears, like abeam of light on the
heath ? bright as the inoon in autumn, as the fun in a fummer-
ftorm, Cornell: thou, lovely maid, over rocks, over mountains to me ?
She fpeaks : but how weak her voice ! like the breeze in the
reeds of the pool.
Returnest thou fafe from the war ? Where are thy friends,
my love ? I heard of thy death on the hill -, I heard and mourned
thee, Shilric !
Yes, my fair, I return ^ but I alone of my race. Thou flialt fee
them no more : their graves I raifed on the plain. But why art
thou on the defert hill ? Why on the heath, alone ?
Alone I am, O Shilric ! alone in the winter-houfe. With grief
for thee I expired. Shilric, I am pale in the tomb.
She
^)' . .^ R R I C - T H U R A:
She fleets, flie fails away; as gray mift before the wind !— and,
wilt thou not flay, my love ? Stay and behold my tears ? fair thou
appeareft, Vinvela ! fair thou wall:, when alive !
By the mofly fountain I will fit; on the top of the hill of winds.
When mid-day is filent around, converfe, O my love, with me !
come on the wings of the gale ! on the blaft of the mountain,
come ! Let me hear thy voice, as thou paffeft, when mid-day is fi-
lent around.
Such was the fong of Cronnan, on the night of Selma's joy. But
morning rofe in the eaft j the blue waters rolled in light. Fingal
bade his fails to rife, and the winds come ruftling, from their hills.
Inis-tore rofe to fight, and Carric-thura's molly towers. But the
fign of diftrefs was on their top : the green flame edged with fmoke.
The king of Morven flruck his breaft : he alTumed, at once, his
fpear. His darkened brow bends forward to the coaft: : he looks
back to the lagging winds. His hair is difordered on his back. The
filence of the king is terrible.
Night came down on the fea ; Rotha's bay received the fhip. A
rock bends along the coafl: with all its ecchoing wood. On the
top is the circle * of Loda, and the mofly fl;one of power. A nar-
row plain fpreads beneath, covered with grafs and aged trees, which
the midnight winds, in their wrath, had torn from the fliaggy
rock. The blue courfe of a ftream is there ; and the lonely blaft of
ocean purfues the thifl:le's beard.
The flame of three oaks arofe : the feaft is fpread around: but
the foul of the king is fad, for Carric-thura's battling chief. The
* The circle '■f Loda is fuppofed to be a as the fpitit of Loda is thought to be the
place of worfhip among the Scandinavians, fame with their god Odin,
wan.
A P O E M. 159
wan, cold moon rofe, in tlie eaft. Sleep defcended on the youths !
Their blue helmets glitter to the beam ; the fading fire decays. But
fleep did not refl on the king : he rofe in the midft of his arms, and
flowly afcended the hill to behold the flame of Sarno's tower.
The flame was dim and diftant ; the moon hid her red face in the
eaft. A blaft came from the mountain, and bore, on its wings, the
fpirit of Loda. He came to his place in his terrors *, and he lliook
his dufky Ipear. — His eyes appear like flames in his dark face ; and
his voice is like diflant thunder. Fingal advanced with the fpear of
his ftrength, and raifed his voice on high.
Son of night, retire: call thy winds and fly! Why doft thou
come to my prefence, with thy fiiadowy arms ? Do I fear thy
^loomy form, difmal fpirit of Loda ? Weak is thy ftiield of clouds :
feeble is that meteor, thy fword. The blaft rolls them together j
and thou thyfelf doft vanifh. Fly from my prefence fon of night !
call thy winds and fly \
Dost thou force me from my place, replied the hollow voice ?
The people bend before me. I turn the battle in the field of the
valiant. I look on the nations and they vani/h : my noftrils pour
the blafl: of death. I come -f- abroad on the winds : the tempefts are
before my face. But my dwelling is calm, above the clouds, the
fields of my reft are pleafant.
Dwell then in thy calm fields, faid Fingal, and let Comhal's fon
be forgot. Do my fteps afcend, from my hills, into thy peaceful
plains ? Do I meet thee, with a fpear, on thy cloud, fpirit of dif-
* He is dcfcribed, in a fimile, in the the terrors of this mock divinity, and thofe
poem concerning the death of Cuchullin. of the true God, as they are defcribed in
t There is a great refemblance between the i8thPfalm.
z' nlal
200 CARRIC-THURA:
mal Loda ? Why then doft thou frown on Fingal ? or fliake thine
airy fpear ? But thou frowneft in vain : I never fled from mighty
men. And fhall the fons of the v/ind frighten the kin^ of Mor-
ven ? No : he knows the weaknefs of their arms.
Flv to thy land, rephed the form : receive the wind and fly.
The blafts are in the hollow of iny hand : the courfe of the ftorm is
mine. The king of Sora is my fon, he bends at the ftone of my
power. His battle is around Carrie -thura J and he will prevail. Fly
to thy land, fon of Comhal, or feel my flaming wrath.
He lifted high his fiiadowy fpear ; and bent forward his terrible
height. But the king, advancing, drew his fword ; the blade of
dark-brown Luno*. The gleaming path of the fteel winds thro'
tlie gloomy ghoft. The form fell fliapelefs into air, like a column of
fmoke, which the ftaft of the boy dilturbs, as it rifes from the half-
extinguiflied furnace.
The fpirit of Loda ilirieked, as, rolled into himfelf, he rofe on
the wind. Iniftore fliook at the found. The waves heard it on
the deep : they flopped, in their courfe, with fear : the compa-
nions of Fingal ftarted, at once ; and took their heavy fpears. They
milled the king : they rofe with rage ; all their arms refound.
The moon came forth in the eafl:. The king returned in the
gleam of his arms. The joy of his youths was great, their fouls
fettled, as a fea from a florm. Ullin raifed the fong of gladnefs. The
hills of Iniftore rejoiced. The flame of the oak arofe ; and the tales
of heroes are told.
* The famous fword of Fingal, made by Lun, or Li:no, a fmiih of Lochlin,
But
A POEM.
20 1
But Frothal, Sora's battling king, fits in fadnefs beneath a tree.
The hoft fpreads around Carric-thura. He looks towards the walls
with rage. He longs for the blood of Cathulla, who, once, over-
came the king in war. When Annir reigned * in Sora, the fa-
ther of car-borne Frothal, a blaft rofe on the fea, and carried Frothal
to Iniftore. Three days he feafted in Sarno's halls, and faw the flow
rolling eyes of Comala. He loved her, in the rage of youth, and
ruflied to feize the white-armed maid. Cathulla met the chief. The
gloomy battle rofe. Frothal is bound in the hall : three days he
pined alone. On the fourth, Sarno fent him to his fliip, and he re-
turned to his land. But wrath darkened in his foul againft the noble
Cathulla. When Annir's flone -f- of fame arofe, Frothal came in his
ftrength. The battle burned round Carric-thura, and Sarno's mofly
walls.
Morning rofe on Iniftore. Frothal ftruck his dark-brown
flneld. His chiefs ftarted at the found ; they flood, but their eyes
were turned to the fea. They faw Fingal coming in his ftrength ;
and firfl the noble Thubar fpoke.
Who comes like the flag of the mountain, with all his herd be-
hind him ? Frothal, it is a foe ; I fee his forward fpear. Perhaps it
is the king of Morven, Fingal the firfl of men. His adions are well
known on Gormal ; the blood of his foes is in Starno's halls. Shall
I alTi the peace | of kings ? He is like the thunder of heaven.
* Annir W2s alfo the father of Erragon, f That is, after the death of Annir. To
who was kii»2 after the death of his brother ere3. the ftone of one's fame, was, in
Jrnthil. The death of Erragon is the other wori's, to fay that the perfon was
fubjecl o( tic battle of Lora, a poem in this dead.
collection. % Honourable terms of peace.
D d Son
202 CARRIC-THURA:
Son of the feeble hand, fiid Frothal, fliall my days begiji in dark-
nefs ? Shall I yield before I have conquered in battle, chief of
ftreamy Tora ? The people would fay in Sora, Frothal flew forth
like a meteor j but the dark cloud met it, and it is no more. No :
Thubar, I will never yield ; my fame fliall furround me like light.
No : I will never yield, king of flreamy Tora.
He went forth with the flream of his people, but they met a
rock : Fingal ftood unmoved, broken they rolled back from his tide.
Nor did they roll in fafety ; the fpear of the king purfued their
flio-ht. The field is covered with heroes. A rifing hill preferved
the flying hofl:.
Frothal faw their flight. The rage of his bofom rofe. He
bent his eyes to the ground, and called the noble Thubar. Thu-
bar ! mv people fled. My fame has ceafed to rife. I will fight
the king ; I feel my burning foul. Send a bard to demand the com-
bat. Speak not againft Frothal's \\'ords. — But, Thubar ! I love a
maid ; fhe dwells by Thano's ftream, the white-bofomed daughter
of Herman, Utha with the foftly-rolling eyes. She feared the
daughter * of Inillore, and her foft fighs rofe, at my departure. Tell
to Utha that I am low ; but that my foul delighted in her.
Such were his words, refolved to fisht. But the foft fio-h of
Utha was near. She had followed her hero over the fea, in the
armour of a man. She rolled her eye on the youth, in fecret, from
beneath a glittering helmet. But now fhe faw the bard as he went,
and the fpear fell thrice from her hand. Her loofe hair flev/ on the
* By the daughter of Iniftorc, Frothal feared that the former paflion of Frothal for
means Comah, of whofe death Utha pro- Comala mij^ht return,
bably had not heard ; confequently fhe
3 wind.
A POEM. 203
\vind. Her white brcaft rofe, with fighs. She lifted up her eyes
to the king; flie would fpeak, but thrice flie failed.
FiNGAL heard the words of the bard; he came in the ftrength
of ftcel. They mixed their deathful fpears, and raifed the gleam of
their fwords. But the fteel of Fingal defcended and cut Frothal's
fliield in twain. His fair fide is expofed ; half bent he forefees
his death.
Darkness gathered on Utha's foul. The tear rolled down her
cheek. She rufhed to cover the chief with her fhield ; but a fallen
oak met her fteps. She fell on her arm of fnow ; her fhield, her
helmet flew wide. Her white bofom heaved to the fight; her
dark-brown hair is fpread on earth.
Fingal pitied the white-armed maid: he flayed the uplifted
fword. The tear was in the eye of the king, as, bending forward,
he fpoke. King of flreamy Sora ! fear not the fword of Fingal. It
was never Itained with the blood of the vanquiflied ; it never pierced
a fallen foe. Let thy people rejoice along the blue waters of Tora :
let the maids of thy love be glad. Why fhouldeft thou fall in thy
youth, king of flreamy Sora .''
Frothal heard the words of Fingal, and faw the rifing maid :
tlicy * ftood in filence, in their beauty : like two young trees of the
plain, when the lliower offpring is on their leaves, and the loud
winds are laid.
Daughter of Herman, faid Frothal, didlt thou come from
Tora's ftreams ; didft thou come, in thy beauty, to behold thy war-
* Frothal and Utha,
D d 3 rior
2C4 C A R R I C - T H U R A :
rlor low ? But he was low before the mighty, maid of the flow-rolK
ing eye ! The feeble did not overcome the fon of car-borne Annir.
Terrible art thou, O king of Morven ! in battles of the fpear.
But, in peace, thou art like the fun, when he looks thro' a fiknt
fhower : the flowers lift their fliir heads before him ; and the gales
fliake their rullling wings. O that thou wert in Sora ! that my feaft
were fpread ! — The future kings of Sora would fee thy arms and
rejoice. They would rejoice at the fame of their fathers, who be-
held the mighty Fingal.
Son of Annir, replied the king, the fame of Sora's race fliall be
heard. — When chiefs are flrong in battle, then does the fong arife !
But if their fwords are ftretched over the feeble : if the blood of
the weak has ftained their arms ; the bard (liall forget them in the
fong, and their tombs fhall not be known. The ilranger iliall come
and build there, and remove the heaped-up earth. An half- worn
fword fhall rife before himj and bending above it, he will fay,
" Thefe are the arms of chiefs of old, but their names are not in
*' the fong." Come thou, O Frothal, to the feaft of Iniftore ;
let the maid of thy love be there; and our faces will brighten
with joy.
Fingal took his (pear, moving in the fteps of his might.
The gates of Carric-thura are opened. The feaft of ftiells is fpread.
— The voice of mufic arofe. Gladnefs brightened in the hall.
The voice of UUin was heard ; the harp of Selma was ftrung. —
Utha rejoiced in his prefence, and demanded the fong of grief; the
big tear hung in her eye, when the foft * Crimora fpoke. Crimora
• There is a propriety in introducing this epifode, as the fituations of Crinwra
and Utha were fo fiimlar.
I the
A P O E M. 205
the daughter of Rinval, who dwelt at Lotha's -f- mighty ftream.
The tale was long, but lovely ; and pleafed the blufliing maid
cf Tora.
Crimora *.
Who Cometh from the hill, like a cloud tinged with the beam of
the weft ? Whofe voice is that, loud as the wind, but pleafant as
the harp of Carril ;{: ? It is my love in the light of fteel ; but fad is
his darkened brow. Live the mighty race of Fingal ? or what
difturbs my Connal || ?
CONNAL.
They live. I law them return from the chace, like a ftream of
light. The fun was on their fhields. Like a ridge of fire they de-
fcended the hill. Loud is the voice of the youth ; the war, my
love, is near. To-morrow the terrible Dargo comes to try the
force of our race. The race of Fingal he defies ; the race of battle
and wounds.
Crimora.
Connal, I faw his fails like gray mift on the fable wave. They
flowly came to land. Connal, many are the warriors of Dargo !
f Lotha was the ancient name of one Cuchullin's bard. The name itfelf is pro-
of the great rivers in the north of Scotland, per to any bard, as it fignities a fprightly
The only one of them that flill retains a and harmonious found,
name of a like found is Lochy, in Inver- || Connal, the fon of Diaran, was one cf
nefsfhire; but whether it is the river men- the moft famous heroes of Fingal ; he was
tioned here, the tranHator will not pretend flain in a battle againft Dargo a Briton ;
'° "}'• but whether by the hand of the enemy, or
• Cri-mora, auoman of a great f-Ail. that of his miftrefs, tradition does not de-
X Perhaps the Carril mentioned here is termine.
the fame with Carril the fon of Kinfena,
Connal.
CARRIC-THURA:
CONNAL.
Bring me thy father's fliield ; the boHy, iron fliield of Rlnval •
lat fli
heaven.
that fliield hke the full moon when it moves darkened throueh
o
Crimora.
That fliield I bring, O Connal -, but it did not defend mv father.
By the fpear of Gormar he fell. Thou may'fi; fall, O Connal !
CoNNAL.
Fall indeed I may : But raife my tomb, Crimora. Gray flones,
a mound of earth, fliall keep my memory. Bend thy red eye over
my tomb, and beat thy mournful heaving breaft. Though fair thou
art, my love, as the light ; more plealant than the gale of the hill ;
yet I will not itay. Raife my tomb, Crimora.
Crimora.
Then give me thofe arms of light; that fword, and that fpear
of fteel. I fliall meet Dargo with thee, and aid my lovely Connal.
Farewel, ye rocks of Ardven ! ye deer ! and ye ftreams of the hill !
— We fliall return no more. Our tombs are difliant far.
And did they return no more? faid Utha's burfling figh. Fell
the mighty in battle, and did Crimora live ? — Her fteps were
lonely, and her foul was fid for Connal. Was he not young and
lovely ; like the beam of the fetting fan ? Ullin faw the virgin's
tear, and took the foftly-trembling harp : the fong was lovely, but
fad, and filence was in Carric-thura.
Autumn is dark on the mountains; gray fnifl: reflis on the hills.
The whirlwind is heard on the heath. Dark rolls the river through
the
A P O E M. 207
the narrow plain. A tree ftands alone on the hill, and marks the
numbering Connal. The leaves whirl round with the wind, and
ftrew the grave of the dead. At times are feen here the ghofts of
the deceafed, when the mufing hunter alone ftalks flowiy over
the heath.
Who can reach the fource of thy race, O Connal ? and who re-
count thy fathers ? Thy family grew like an oak on the inountain,
which meeteth the wind with its lofty head. But now it is torn
from the earth. Who fliall fupply the place of Connal ?
Here was the din of arms; and here the groans of the dying.
Bloody are the wars of Fingal ! O Connal ! it was here thou didft
fall. Thine arm was like a ftorm ; thy fword a beam of the fky;
thy height, a rock on the plain j thine eyes, a furnace of fire.
Louder than a florm was thy voice, in the battles of thy fteeL
Warriors fell by thy fword, as the thiftle by the ftaff of a boy.
Dargo the mighty came on, like a cloud of thunder. His
brows were contradled and dark. His eyes like two caves in a rock.
Bright rofe their fwords on each fide; dire was the clan? of
their fleel.
The daughter of RInval was near ; Crimora bright in the armour
of man ; her yellow hair is loofe behind, her bow is in her hand.
She followed the youth to the war, Connal her much-beloved. She
drew the firing on Dargo ; but erring pierced her Connal. He falls
like an oak on the plain ; like a rock from the fhaggy hill. What fhall
fhe do, haplefs maid ! — He bleeds ; her Connal dies. All the night
long (lie cries, and all the day, O Connal, my love, and my friend !
With grief the fad mourner dies.
Earth
20!
C A R R I C - T H U R A, &c.
Earth here inclofes the loveliefl; pair on the hill. The grafs
grows between the ftones of the tomb ; I often fit in the mournful
fhade. The wind fighs through the grafs ; their memory ruflies on
my mind. Undifturbed you now fleep together ; in the tomb of the
mountain you reft alone.
And foft be your reft, faid Utha, children of ftreamy Lotha.
I will remember you with tears, and my fecret fong ftiall rife j
when the wind is in the groves of Tora, and the ftream is roaring
near. Then fhall ve come on my foul, with all your lovely grief.
Three davs feafted the kings: on the fourth their white fails
nrofe. The winds of the north carry the fliip of Fingal to Morven's
woody land. But the fpirit of Loda fat, in his cloud, behind the
fhips of Frothal. He hung forward with all his blafts, and fpread
the white-bofomed fails. The wounds of his form were not
forgot ; he ftill feared * the hand of the king.
* The ftory of Fingal and the fpirit of
Loda, fuppofed to be the famous Odin, is
the moft extravagant ficiion in all Ollian's
poems. It is not, however, without pre-
cedents in the bed poets ; and it muft be
faid for Offian, that he fays no.hing but
what perfeftly agreed with the notions
of the times, concerning ghofts. They
thought the fouls of the dead were mate-
rial, and confequemly fufccptible of pain.
Whether a proof could be drawn from this
paflagc, that O.Tian had no notion of a
divinity, I ftiall leave to others to deter-
mine : it appears, however, that he was
of opinion, -that fuperior beings ought to
take no notice of what paffed among men.
THE
( 209 )
THE
SONGS of SELMA*
STAR of the falling night ! fair is thy light in the weft ! thou
lifteft thy unfliorn head from thy cloud : thy fteps are
ftately on thy hill. What doft thou behold in the plain ? The
ftormy winds are laid. The murmur of the torrent comes from
afar. Roaring waves climb the diftant rock. The flies of evening
are on their feeble wings, and the hum of their courfe is on the
field. What doft thou behold, fair light ? But thou doft fmile and
depart. The waves come with joy around thee, and bathe thy
lovely hair. Farewel, thou filent beam ! — Let the light of Oftian's
foul arife.
* This poem fixes the antiquity of a
cudom, which is well known to have pre-
vailed afterwards, in the north of Scotland,
and in Ireland. The bards, at an annual
feaft, provided by the king or chief, re-
peated their poems, and fuch of them as
were thought, by him, worthy of being
preferved, were carefully taught to their
children, in order to have them tr anfmitted
to pcfterity. It was one of thofe occa-
fions that afforded the fubje(5l of theprefent
poem to Oflian, — It is called in the origi-
nal, the fongs of Selma, which title it was
thought proper to adopt in the tranflation.
The poem is entirely lyric, and has great
variety of verfification. The addrefs to
the evening ftar, with which it opens, has
in the original all the harmony that num-
bers could give it ; flowing down with all
that tranquility and foftnefs, which the
fcene defcribed naturally infpires. — Three
of tiie fongs which are introduced in this
piece, were publifhed among the fragments
of ancient poetry, printed laft year.
E e
And
CIO
The songs of SELMA.
Akd it does arife in its flrength ! I behold my departed friends.
Their gathering is on Lora, as in the days that are palT;. Fingal.
comes Hke a watry column of mift J his heroes are around. And
fee the bards of the fong, gray-haired Ullin; ftately Ryno ; Alpin *,
with the tuneful voice, and the foft complaint of Minona ! How
are ye changed, my friends, fince the days of Selma's feaft ! when
we contended, like the gales of the fpring, that, flying over the hill,
by turns bend the feebly- whiftling grafs.
Minona -f- came forth in her beauty; with down-caft look and
tearful eye ; her hair flev/ flowly on the blafl: that ruflied unfrequent
from the hill. The fouls of the heroes were fad when fhe raifed
the tuneful voice ; for often had they feen the grave of Salgar J, and
the dark dwelling of white-bofomed Colma ||. Colma left alone on
the hill, with all her voice of mufic ! Salgar promifed to come :
but the night defcended round. — Hear the voice of Colma, when fhe
fit alone on the hill !
Colma.
It is night ; — I am alone, forlorn on the hill of llorms. The
wind is heard in the mountain. The torrent flirieks down the rock.
No hut receives me from the rain ; forlorn on the hill of winds.
* Alpin is from the fame root with Al- from the natives painting themfelves, or
bion, or rather Albin, the ancient name of from their party-coloured cloaths.
Britain; Alp, kighlnlnnd, or country. The + OiTian introduces Minona, not in the
prefent name of our ifland has its origin in ideal fcene in his own mind, which he had
the Celtic tongue ; fo that thofe who de- defcribed ; but at the annual feaft of Selma,
lived it from any other, betrayed their ig- where the bards repeated their works be-
norance of the ancient language of our fore Fingal.
zonnKx^.—'—Breact in, variegated ijland, % Sealg-'er, a bunler.
fo called from the face of the country, |! Cul-math, a woman %vithfine hair.
A Rise
The songs of S E L M A. 211
Rise, moon ! from behind thy clouds; flars of the night appear !
Lead me, fome hght, to the place where my love refts from the
toil of the chace ! his bow near him, unftrung ; his dogs panting
around him. But here I mufl fit alone, by the rock of the moffy
flream. The ftream and the wind roar; nor can I hear the voice
of my love.
Why delays my Salgar, why the fon of the hill, his.promife?
Here is the rock, and the tree ; and here the roaring ftream. Thou
didft promife with night to be here. Ah ! whither is my Salgar
gone ? With thee I would fly, my father ; with thee, my brother
of pride. Our race have long been foes * ; but we are not foes,
b Salgar!
Cease a little while, O wind ! ftream, be thou filent a while !
let my voice be heard over the heath; let my wanderer hear me.
•Salgar ! it is I who call. Here is the tree, and the rock. Salgar,
my love ! I am here. Why delayeft thou thy coming ?
Lo ! the moon appeareth. The flood is bright in the vaje. The
rocks are grey on the face of the hill. But I fee him not on the
brow ; his dogs before him tell not that he is coming. Here I
muft fit alone.
But v.'ho are thefe that lie beyond me on the heath ? Are they
my love and my brother ? — Speak to m.e, O my friends ! they anfwer
not. My foul is tormented with fears. Ah ! they are dead.
Their fwords are red from the light. O my brother ! my brother !
why haft thou flain my Salgar ? why, O Salgar ! haft thou ftp.in
my brother ? Dear were ye both to me ! what (liall I far '.-i rir
praife ? Thou wert fair on the hill among thoufands ; h>;. was
E e 2 terrible
212 The songs of S E L M A.
terrible in fight. Speak to me ; hear my voice, fons of my love I
But alas ! they are filent j filent for ever ! Cold are their
breafts of clay !
Oh ! from the rock of the hill ; from the top of the windy
mountain, fpeak ye ghofts of the dead ! fpeak, I vv'ill not be afraid,
— Whither are ye gone to reft ? In what cave of the hill ihall I
find you ? No feeble voice is on the wind : no anfwer half-drowned
in the ftorms of the hill.
I SIT in my grief. I wait for morning in my tears. Rear the
tomb, ye friends of the dead ; but clofe it not till Colma come. My
life flies away like a dream : why fhould I ftay behind ? Here fliall
I reft with my friends, by tlie ftream of the founding rock. When
night comes on the hill ; when the wind is on the heath -, my ghoft
fliall ftand in the wind, and mourn the death of my friends. The
hunter fliall hear from his booth. He fliall fear but love my voice.
For fweet fliall my voice be for my friends ; for pleafant were they
"both to me.
Such was thy fong, Minona fofirly-bluflring maid of Torman.
Our tears delcended for Colma, and our fouls were fad. — Ullin came
with the harp, and gave the fong of Alpin. — The voice of Alpin
was pleafant : the foul of Ryno was a beam of fire. But they had
refted in the narrow houfe : and their voice was not heard in Selma.
Ullin had returned one day from the cTiace, before the heroes
fell. He heard their ftrife on the hill j their fong was foft but fad.
They mourned the fall of Morar, firft of mortal men.. His foul
was like the foul of Fingal ; his fword like the fword of Ofcar. —
But he fell, and his fatloer mourned : his fifter's eyes were full of
tears. Minona's eyes were full of tears, the fifter of car-borne
Morar,
The songs of S E L M A. 213
Morar. She retired from the fong of UlHn, like the moon in the
well:, when fhe forefees the fliowcr, and hides her fair head in a
cloud. — I touched the harp, with UUin ; the fong of mourning rofe.
Ryno.
The wind and the rain are over : calm is the noon of day. The
elouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the incon-
ftant fun. Red through the ftony vale comes down the flream of
the hill. Sweet are thy murmurs, O ftream ! but more fweet is
the voice I hear. It is the voice of Alpin, the fon of the fong,
mourning for the dead. Bent is his head of age, and red his tear-
ful eye. Alpin, thou fon of the fong, why alone on the filent hill ?
why complainefl thou, as a blafl: in the wood ; as a wave on the
lonely fhore ?
Alpik.
My tears, O Ryno ! are for the dead j my voice, for the inhabi-
tants of the grave. Tall thou art on the hill ; fair among the fons
of the plain. But thou flialt fall like Morar *j and the mourner
(hall fit on thy tomb. The hills fliall know thee no more ; thy
bow ihall lie in the hall, unftrung.
Thou wert fwift, O Morar ! as a roe on the hill ; terrible as a
meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the fi-orm. Thy fword in battle,
as lightning in the field. Thy voice was like a flream after rain ;
like thunder on diftant hills. Many fell by thy arm j they were con-
fumed in the flames of thy wrath.
But when thou didft return from war, how peaceful was thy
brow ! Thy face was like the fun after rain ; like the moon in the
* Mor er, great man,
filence
214 The SONGS of S E L M A.
filence of night ; calm as the breafl of the hike when the loud
whid is laid.
Narrow is thy dwelling now; dark the place of thine abode.
With three fteps I compafs thy grave, O thou who waft fo great
before ! Four ftones, with their heads of mofs, are the only memo-
rial of thee. A tree with fcarce a leaf, long grafs which whiftles
in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty
Morar. Morar ! thou art low indeed. Thou haft no mother to
mourn thee ; no maid with her tears of love. Dead is flie that
brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan.
Who on his ftaff is this ? who is this, whofe head is white with
age, whofe eyes are red with tears, who quakes at e\-ery ftep. — It is
thy father •■■, O Morar ! the father of no fon but thee. He heard
of thy fame in battle ; he heard of foes difperfed. He heard of
Morar's fame; why did he not hear of his wound ? Weep, thou
father of Morar ! weep ; but thy fon hearcth thee not. Deep is the
lleep of the dead ; low their pillow of duft. No more fliall he hear
thy voice ; no more fhall he awake at thy call. When fhall it be
morn in the grave, to bid the flumberer awake ?
Farewel, thou braveft of men ! thou conqueror in the field !
but the field fliall fee thee no more ; nor the dark wood be lightened
with the fplendor of thy fteel. Thou haft left no fon. But the
fong fhall preferve thy name. Future times fhall hear of thee ; they
fliall hear of the fallen Morar.
The grief of all arofe, but moft the burfting firrh of Armin -f-.
He remembers the death of his fon, who fell in the days of his
* Torman, the fon of Carthu!, lord of kingof Gorma, i.e. thehlueiJlmJ, fuppofed
I-niora, one of the weflern ifles. to be one of the Hebrides,
t Armin, a hero. He was chief or petty
youth.
The songs of SELMA. 215:
youth. Carmor * was near the hero, the chief of the ecchoing Gal-
mal. Why burfts the figh of Armin, he faid ? Is there a caufe to
mourn ? The fong comes, with its mufic, to melt and pleafe the
foul. It is like foft mift, that, riling from a lake, pours on the fi-
lent vale ; the green flowers are filled with dew, but the fun re-
turns in his ftrength, and the mift is gone. Why art thou fad, O
Armin, chief of fea-furrounded Gorma?
Sad ! I am indeed : nor fmall my caufe of woe ! — Carmor, thou
haft loft no fon ; thou haft loft no daughter of beauty. Colgar the
valiant lives ; and Annira faireft maid. The boughs of thy family
flourifti, O Carmor ! but Armin is the laft of his race. Dark is thy
bed, O Daura ! and deep thy fleep in the tomb. — When flialt thou
awake with thy fongs ? with all thy voice of mufic ?
Rise, winds of autumn, rife; blow upon the dark heath! ftreams
of the mountains, roar ! howl, ye tempefts, in the top of the oak f
walk through broken clouds, O moon ! fhow by intervals thy pale
face ! bring to my mind that fad night, when all my children fell j
when Arindal the mighty fell ; when Dura the lovely failed.
Daura, my daughter ! thou wert fair; fair as the moon on the
hills of Fura-f-; white as the driven fnow; fweet as the breath-
ing gale. Arindal, thy bow was ftrong, thy fpear was fwift in
the field : thy look was like mift on the v/ave ; thy fhield, a red
cloud in a ftorm. Armar, renowned in war, . came, and fought
Daura's love ; he was not long denied ; fair was the hope of their
friends.
* Czi^t-mor, a tall dark-complexioned man. f Fuar-a, cold ijland.
Erath,..
2i6 The SONGS of SELMA.
Erath, fon of Odgal, repined; for his brother was flain by
Armar. He came difguifed Hke a fon of the fea : fair was his fkiff
on the wave ; white his locks of age j cahn his ferious brow. Fair-
eft of women, he faid, lovely daughter of Armin ! a rock not diftant
in the fea, bears a tree on its fide ; red (hines the fruit afar. There
Armor waits for Daura. I came to carry his love along the roll-
ing fea.
She went; and fhe called on Armar. Nought anfwered, but the
fon * of the rock. Armor, my love ! my love ! why tormenteft
thou me with fear ? hear, fon of Ardnart, hear : it is Daura who
calleth thee ! Erath the traitor fled laughing to the land. She
lifted up her voic^, and cried for her brother and her father. Arin-
dal ! Armin ! none to relieve your Daura.
Her voice came over the fea. Arindal my fon delcended from
the hill; rough in the fpoils of the chace. His arrows rattled by
his fide ; his bow was in his hand : five dark gray dogs attended his
fteps. He faw fierce Erath on the fhore : he feized and bound
him to an oak. Thick fly the thongs -f- of the hide around his
limbs ; he loads the wind with his groans.
Arindal afccnds the deep in his boat, to bring Daura to land.
Armar came in his wrath, and let fly the gray-feathered lliaft. It
fung ; it funk in thy heart, O Arindal my fon ! for Erath the trai-
tor thou diedft. The oar is flopped at once; he panted on the rock
* By the foil of the rock the poet means count, called it mac-talla ; the (on ziho
the eccbuing back of t!ie human voice from eurL's in the rock.
a rock. The vulgar were of opinion, that + The poet here cnly means that Er-
this repetition of found was made by a fpi- ath was bound with leathern thongs,
nt within the rock ; and they, on that ac-
and
The songs of SELMA- 217
and expired. Wli?t Is thy grief, O D^tura^ when round thy feet is
poi^red thy brother's blood.
The boat is broken in twain by the waves. Arniar plunges into
the fea, to refcue his Daura or die. Sudden a blaft from the hill
comes over the waves. He funk, and he rofe no more.
Alone, on the fea-beat rock, my daughter was heard to com-
pLiin. Frequent and loud were hqr cries j nor could lier father re-
lieve her. All night I ftood on the flaore. I faw her by the faint
beam of the moon. All night I heard her cries. Loud was the
wind J and the rain beat hard on the fide of the mountain. Before
morning appeared, her voice was weak. It died away, like the
evening-breeze among the grafs of the rocks. Spent with grief flie
expired. And left thee Armin alone : gone is my ftrength in the
war, and fallen my pride among women.
When the florms of the mountain come; when the north lifts
the waves on high ; I fit by the founding fliore, and look on the
fatal rock. Often by the fetting moon I fee the ghoflis of my chil-
dren. Half- vie wlefs, they walk in mournful conference together.
Will none of you fpeak in pity ? They do not regard their father.
I am fad, O Carmor, nor fmall my caufe of woe !
Such were the words of the bards in the days of the fong j when
the king heard the mufic of harps, and the tales of other times. The
chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely found.
They praifed the voice * of Cona ! the firfl: among a thoufand bards.
But age is now on my tongue ; and my foul has failed. 1 hear,
* Oflian is fometimes poetically called the voice of Cona,
F f fometimes,
2i8 The SONGS of SELMA.
fometimes, the ghofts of bards, and learn their pleafant fong. But
memory fails on my mind ; I hear the call of years. They fay, as
they pafs along, why does Offian fing ? Soon fhall he lie in the nar-
row houfe, and no bard {hall raife his fame.
Roll on, ye dark-brown years, for ye bring no joy on your
courfe. Let the tomb open to Offian, for his llrength has failed.
The fons of the fong are gone to reft ; my voice remains, like a
blaft, that roars, lonely, on a fea-furrounded rock, after the winds
are laid. The dark mofs whiftles there, and the diftant mariner
fees the waving trees.
CALTHON
( 219 )
CALTHON and COLMAL
OEM*.
PLEASANT is the voice of thy fong, thou lonely dweller
of the rock. It comes on the found of the ftream, along the
narrow vale. My foul awakes, O ftranger ! in the midft of my hall.
I flretch my hand to the fpear, as in the days of other years. — I
• This piece, as many more of Offian's
compofitions, is addrefled to one of the firft
Chriftian miflionaries. — The ftory of the
poem is handed down, by tradition, thus —
In the country of the Britons between the
walls, two chiefs lived in the days of Fin-
gal, Dunthalmo, lord of Teutha, fuppofed
to be the Tweed ; and Rathmor, who
dwelt at Clutha, well known to be the
river Clyde. Rathmor was not more
renowned for his generofity and hofpitality,
than Dunthalmo was infamous for his
cruelty and ambition. — Dunthalmo, thro'
envy, or on account of Tome private feuds,
which fubfifted between the families, mur-
dered Cathmor at a feaft ; but being after-
wards touched with remorfe, he educated
the two foiis of Rathmor, Calthon and
Colmar, in his own houfe. — They grow-
Ff
ing up to man's eftate, dropped fome hints
that they intended to revenge the death of
their father, upon which Dunthalmo fhut
them up in two caves on the banks of
Teutha, intending to take them off pri-
vately.— Colmal, the daughter of Dun-
thalmo, who was fecretly in love with
Calthon, helped him to make his efcape
from prifon, and fled with him to Fin^ial,
difguifed in the habit of a young warrior,
and implored his aid againC: Dunthalmo.
Fingal fent Offian with three hundred
men, to Coimar's relief — Dunthalmo hav-
ing previoufly murdered Colmar, came to
a battle with Oilian ; but he was killed by
that hero, and his army totally defeated.
Calthon married Colmal, his deliverer;
and Oflian returned to Morven.
2 ftretcb
220 C A L T H O ^^ and C O L M A L :
ftretch my hand, but it is feeble; and the figh of my bofom grows.
—Wilt thou not liften, fon of the rock, to the fong of Oflian ?
My foul is full of other times ; the joy of my youth returns. Thus
tke fun -j- appears iiV th^ wdft, aftej- t4ie ftfeps of his brightrtefs havfe
moved behind a florm ; the green hills lift their dewy heads : the
blue flreams rejoice in the vale. The aged hero comes forth on his
flaff, and his grey hair glitters in the beam._
DosT thou not behold, fon of the rock, a fliield in Oflian's hall ?
It is marked with the ftrokes of battle ; and the brightnefs of its
bofTes has failed. That fliield the great Dunthalmo bore, the chief
of ftreamy Teutha. — ^Dunthalhio bore it in battle, before he
fell by Offian's fpear. Liften, fon of the rock, to the tale of
other years. —
Rathmor was a chief of Clutha. The feeble dwelt in his hall.
The gates of Rathmor were never clofed ; his feaft was always
fpread. The fons of the ftranger came, and blefled the generous
chief of Clutha. Bards raifed the fong, and touched the harp :
and joy brightened on the face of the mournful.— Dunthalmo came,
in his pride, and rufhed into the combat of Rathmor. The chief
of Clutha overcame : the rage of Dunthalmo rofe — He came, by
night, with his warriors ; and the mighty Rathmor fell. He fell
in his halls, where his feaft was often fpread for ftrangers.
f If chance the radiant fun with farewel —When a dreadful ftorm away is flit
fweet Tlirough the broad world doth fpread his
Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, goodly ray;
The birds their notes renew, and bleating At fight whereof each bird that fits on fpray,
herds And every beaft that to his den was fled,
Atteft their joy, that h;ll and valley rings. Come forth afrefh out of their late difmay,
Milton. And to the light lift up their drooping head.
— The fair fun-fliine in fummer's dav; Spencer.
CoLMAR
A P O E M. 221
CoiLMAR and Calthon were young, the fons of car-borne Rath-
mor. They came, in the joy of youth, into their father's hall.
They behold him in his blood, and their burfting tears defcend. —
The foul of Dunthalmo melted, when he faw the children of youth ;
he. brought them to Alteutha's J walls ; they grew in the houfe of
their foe. — 1"hey bent the bow in his prefence ; and came forth to
his battles.
They faw the fallen walls of their fathers; they fav/ the green
thorn in the hall. Their tears defcended in fecret j and, at times,
their faces were mournful. Dunthalmo beheld their grief: his
darkening foul deligned their death. He clofed them in two caves,
on the ecchoing banks of Teutha. The fun did not come there
with his beams ; nor the moon of heaven by night. The fons of
Rathmor remained in darknefs, and forefaw their death.
The daughter of Dunthalmo wept in filence, the fair-haired,
bliie-eyed Colmal ||. Her eye had rolled in fecret on Calthon ; his
lovelinefs fwelled in her foul. She trembled for her warrior j but
what could Colmal do ? Her arm could not lift the fpear; nor was
the fword formed for her fide. Her white breafl: never rofe beneath
a mail. Neither was her eye the terror of heroes. What canft
thou do, O Colmal ! for the falling chief ? — Her fteps are unequal ;
her hair is loofe : her eye looked wildly through her tears. — She
t Al-teutha, or rather Balteutha, the the univerfal language of the whole ifland.
town of Tweed, the name of Duiithalmo"s || Caol-mhal, a woman v.ith fmall tye-
feat. It is obfervable that all the names brows; fmall eye-brows were a diftinguifli-
in this poem, are derived from the Galic ing part of beauty in Oflian's time : and
language ; which, as I have remarked in a he feldom fails to give them to the fine
preceding note, is a proof that it vv-as once women of his poems.
came.
222 C A L T H O N and C O L M A L :
came, by night, to the hall * ; and armed her lovely form in fteel ;
the fleel of a young warrior, who fell in the firft of his battles.—
She came to the cave of Calthon, and loofed the thong from
his hands.
Arise, fon of Rathmor, flie faid, arife, the night Is dark. Let
us fly to the king of Selma -f-, chief of fallen Clutha ! I am the fon
of Lamgal, who dwelt in thy father's hall. I heard of thy dark
dwelling in the cave, and my foul arofe. Arife, fon of Rathmor,
for the night is dark.
Blest voice! replied the chief, comeft thou from the darkly-
rolling clouds ? for often the ghofts of his fathers defcend to Cal-
thon's dreams, fince the fun has retired from his eyes, and darknefs
has dwelt around him. Or art thou the fon of Lamgal, the chief
I often faw in Clutha ? But will I fly to Fingal, and Colmar my
brother low ■ Will I fly to Morven, and the hero clofed in night ?
No : give me that fpear, fon of Lamgal, Calthon will defend
his brotlier.
A THOUSAND heroes, replied the maid, ftretch their fi3ears round
car-borne Colmar. What can Calthon do againfl; a hofl: fo great .''
Let us fly to the king of Morven, he will come with battle. His
arm is ftretched forth to the unhappy ; the lightning of his fword
is round the weak. — Arife, thou fon of Rathmor ; the fliadows will
fly away. Dunthalmo will behold thy ftcps on the field, and thou
muft fall in thy youth.
* Tl at is, the hall where the arms taken as more proper for a young woman, who
frnm enemies were hung up as trophies, cannot be fuppofed ftrong enough to carry
OiTian is very careful to make his (lories the armour of a full-groivn warrior,
probable ; for he makes Colmal cut on the t Fingal.
arms of a youth killed in his iirrt battle,
4 * The
A POEM. 223
The fighing hero roCe -, his tears defcend for car-borne Cohiiar.
He came with the maid to Selma's hall ; but he knew not that it
was Colmal. The helmet cover'd her lovely face^ and her breaft
rofe beneath the fteel. Fingal returned from the chace, and found
the lovely ftrangers. They were like two beams of light, in the
midlt of the hall.
The king heard the tale of grief; and turned his eyes around.
A thoufand heroes half-rofe before him ; claiming the war of Teu-
tha. — I came with my fpear from the hill, and the joy of battle
rofe in my breaft : for the king fpoke to OlTian in the midft cf
the people.
Son of my ftrength, he faid, take the fpear of Fingal ; go to
Teutha's mighty ftream, and five the car-borne Colmar. — Let thy
fame return before thee like a pleafant gale ; that my foul may re-
joice over my fon, who renews the renown of our fathers. — Offian !
be thou a ftorm in battle ; but mild when the foes are low ! — It
was thus my fame arofe, O my fon ; and be thou like Selma's chief.
— When the haughty come to my halls, my eyes behold them not.
But my arrji is ftretched forth to the unhappy. My fword defends
the weak.
Irejoiced in the words of the king : and took my rattling
arms. — Diaran * rofe at my fide, and Dargo -j- king of fpears. —
Three
* Diaran, father of that Connal who hunting party. The lamentation- of his
was unfortunately killed by Crimora, his miftrefs, or wife, Mingala, over his body,
miftrefs. is extant; but whether it is of Oflian's
-f Dargo, the fon of Collath, is cele- compofition, I cannot determine. It is
brated in other poems by Offian. He is generally afcribed to him, and has much of
faid to have been killed by a boar at a his manner j but foma. traditions mention
iti
224
C A L T H O N and C O L M A L
Three hundred youths followed our fteps : the lovely ftrangers were
at my fide. Dunthalmo heard the found of our approach; he
gathered the ftrength of Teutha. — He ftood on a hill with his
hoft ; they were like rocks broken with thunder, when their bent
trees are finged and bare, and the ftreams of their chinks have failed.
The ftream of Teutha rolled, in its pride, before the gloomy
foe. I fent a bard to Dunthalmo, to offer the combat on the plain;
but he fmiled in the darknefs of liis pride. — His unfettled hoft
moved on the hill ; like the mountain-cloud, when the blaft has
entered its womb, and fcatters the curling gloom on every lide.
They brought Colmar to Teutha's bank, bound with a thoufand
thongs. The chief is fad, but lovely, and his eye is on his friends ;
for we ftood, in our arms, on the oppofite baiik of Teutha. Dun-
it as an imitation by fome later bard.
As it has fome poetical merit, I have
fubjoined it.
'"pH E fpoufe of Dargo comes in tears:
for Dargo was no more ! The heroes
figh over Lartho's chief: and what fhall
fad Mingala do ? The dark fou! vanifhed
like morning mift, before the king of
fpears : but the generous glowed in his
prefence like the morning flar.
Who was the faireft and moft lovely ?
Who but Collath's Irately fon ? Who fat in
the midft of the wife, but Dargo of the
mighty-tlceds ?
Thy hand touched the trembling harp :
Thy voice was foft as fummer-winds. —
Ah me ! what (hall the heroes fay ? for
Dargo fell before a boar. Pale is the love-
ly cheek ; the look of which was firm in
danger ! — Why hafl: thou failed on our
hills, thou fairer than the beams of the fun?
The daughter of Adonlion was lovely in
the eyes of the valiant ; fhe was lovely in
their eyes, but (he chofe to be the fpoufe
of Dargo.
But thou art alone, Mingala ! the night
"is coming with its clouds ; where is the
bed of thy repofe ? Where but in the
tomb of Dargo?
Why doft thou lift the (^one, O bard !
why doft thou (hut the narrow houfe ?
Mingala's eyes are heavy, bard ! She muft
deep with Dargo.
Laft night I heard the fongof joy in Lar-
tho's lofty hall. But filence dwells around
my bed. Mingala refts with Dargo.
thalmo
A P O E M. 225
thalatio came with his ipear, and pierced the hero's fide : he rolled
on the bank in his blood, and wc heard his broken fighs.
Calthon ruflied into tlie ftream : I bounded forward on my
Ipear. Teutha's race fell before us. Night came rolling down.
Dunthalmo refled on a rock, amidft an aged wood. The rao-e of
his boibm burned againfl the car-borne Calthon. — But Calthon flood
in his grief; he mourned the fallen Colmar ; Colmar flain in youth,
before his fame arofe.
I BADE the fong of woe to rife, to footh the mournful chief; but
he ftood beneath a tree, and often threw his fpear on earth. — The
humid eye of Colmal rolled near in a fecret tear: fhe forefaw the
fall of Dunthalmo, or of Clutha's battling chief.
Now half the night had paffed away. Silence and darknefs were
on the field ; fleep refted on the eyes of the heroes : Cakhon's
fettling foul was ftill. His eyes were half-clofed ; but the murmur
of Teutha had not yet failed in his ear. Pale, and fhewing his
wounds, the ghoft of Colmar came : he bended his head over the
hero, and railed his feeble voice.
Sleeps the fon of Rathmor in his night, and his brother low?
Did we not rife to the chace together, and purfue the dark-brown
hinds ? Colmar was not forgot till he fell ; till death had blafted
his youth. I lie pale beneath the rock of Lona. O let Calthon
rife ! the morning comes with its beams ; and Dunthalmo will dif-
honour the fallen.
He palled away in his blaft. The rifing Calthon law the ftcps of
his departure. — He rulhed in the found of his fteel ; and unhappy
Colmal role. She followed her hero through night, and dragged
O g her
226 C A L T H O N and C O L M A L :
her fpear behind. — But when Calthon came to Lona's rock, he found
his fallen brother — The rage of his bofom rofe, and he ruflied
among the foe. The groans of death afcend. They clofe around
the chief. — He is bound in the midrt, and brought to gloomy Dun-
thalmo. — The fliout of joy arofe ; and the hills of night replied. —
I ftarted at the found : and took, my father's fpear. Diaran role
at my fide; and the youthful ftrength of Dargo. We miffed the
chief of Clutha, and our fouls were fad. — I dreaded the departure
of my fame ; the pride of my valour rofe.
Sons of Mor\'en, I laid, it is not thus our fathers fought. They
refted not on the field of ftrangers, when the foe did not fall before
them. Their ftrength was like the eagles of heaven ; their re-
nown is in the fong. But our people fall by degrees, and our fame
begins to depart. M''hat lliall the king of Morven fay, if Ollian
conquers not at Teutha ? Rife in your fteel, ye warriors, and follow
the found of OiTian's courfe. He will not return, but renowned, to
the echoing walls of Selma.
MoRNiXG roie on the blue waters of Teutha; Colmal ilood
before me in tears. She told of the chief of Clutha : and thrice
the fpear fell from her hand. My wrath turned againfi: the flranger ;
for my foul trembled for Calthon.
So.v of the feeble hand, I faid, do Teutha's warriors fight with
tears ? The battle is not won with grief; nor dwells the figh in
the foul of war. Go to the deer of Carmun, or the lowing herds
of Teutha. — But leave thefe arms, thou fon of fear; a warrior may
lift them in battle.
I TORE
A P O E M. 227
I tore the mall from her flioulders. Her fnowy bread appeared.
She bent her red face to the ground. — I looked in filence to the chiefs.
The fpear fell from my hand ; and the figh of my bofom rofe.
But when I heard the name of the maid, my crowding tears defcended.
I blefled the lovely beam of youth, and bade the battle move. —
Whv, fon of the rock, fhould Offian tell how Teutha's warriors
died ? They are now forgot in their land j and their tombs are not
found on the heath. — Years came on with their tempefts ; and the
green mounds mouldered away. — Scarce is the grave of Dunthalmo
feen, or the place where he fell by the fpear of Ofllan. — Some gray
warrior, half blind with age, fitting by night at the flaming oak of
the hall, tells now my aftions to his fons, and the fall of the dark
Dunthalmo. The faces of youth bend fidelong towards his voice ;
furprize and joy burn in their eyes. —
I FOUND the fon * of Rathmor bound to an oak; my fword cut
the thongs from his hands. And I gave him the white-bofomed
Colmal. — They dwelt in the halls of Teuthaj and Ollian returned
to Selma.
* Calthcn.
G g 2 LATH M O N :
t>
( 228 )
L A T H M O N:
A P O E M*.
SELMA, thy halls are filent. There is no found in the woods
of Morven. The wave tumbles alone on the coaft. The fi-
lent beam of the fun is on the field. The daughters of Morven
come forth, like the bow of the lliowerj they look towards green
Ullin for the white fails of the king. He had promifed to return,
but the winds of the north arofe.
Who pours from the eaftern hill, like a flream of darknefs ? It
is the hoft of Lathmon. He has heard of the abfence of Fingal.
He trufts in the wind of the north. His foul brightens with joy.
Why doft thou come, Lathmon ? The mighty are not in Selma.
Why comeft thou with thy forward fpear ? Will the daughters of
Morven fight ? But flop, O mighty flream, in thy courfe ! Does
not Lathmon behold thefe fails ? Why doft thou vaniHi, Lathmon,
* Lathmon a Brltifh prince, taking ad- epifode of Nifus and Euryalus in V'irgil's
vantage of Fingal's abfence in Ireland, ninth .?lneid. The poem opens, with the
made a defcent on Alorven, and advanced firft appearance of Fingal on the coaft of
within fight of Sclma the royal palace. Morven, and ends, it may be fuppofcJ,
Fingal arrived in the mean time, and Lath- about noon the next day. The firft para-
mon retreated to a hill, where his army graph is in a lyric meafure, and appears to
was furprized by night, and himfelf taken have been fung, of old, to the harp, as a
prifoner by Oflian and Gaul the fon of prelude to the narrative part of the poem,
Morni. This exploit of Gaul and OiTian which is in heroic vcrfe.
bears a near refemblance to the beautiful
like
A P O E M. 22$
like the mift of the lake ? But the fqually ftorm is behind thee ;
Fingal purfues thy fteps !
The king of Morven darted from flcep, as we rolled en the dark-
bliie wave. He ftretched his hand to his fpear, and his heroes rofe
around. We knew that he had feen his fathers, for they often de-
fcended to his dreams, when the fword of the foe rofe over the
land ; and the battle darkened before us.
Whither haft thou fled, O wind, faid the king of Morven?
Doft thou ruflle in the chambers of the fouth, and purfue the ihower
in other lands ? Why doft thou not come to my fills ? to the blue
face of my feas ? The foe is in the land of Morven, and the king
is abfent. But let each bind on his mail, and each afTume his
fhield. Stretch every fpear over the wave ; let every fword be un-
fheathed. Lathmon * is before us with his hoft : he that fled -|-
from Fingal on the plains of Lona. But he returns, like a collecfled
ftream, and his roar is between our hills.
Such were the words of Fingal. We ruflied into Carmona's
bay. Offian afcended the hill ; and thrice ftruck his bofly fliield.
The rock of Morven replied; and the bounding roes came forth.
The foes were troubled in mj' prefence : and collecftcd their darken-
ed hoft; for I llood, like a cloud on the hill, rejoicing in the arms
of my youth.
* It is faid, by tradition, that it was tlie t" He alludes to a battle wherein Fingal
intelligence of Lathmon's invafion, that had defeated Lathmon. The occafion of
occafioned Flngal's return from Ireland ; this firft war, between thofe heroes, is told
though Ortian, more poetically, afcrlbes the by Offian in another poem, which the
caufe of Flngal's knowledge to his dream. trandator has feen.
MoRXI
230 LATH M O N :
, MoRNi * fat beneath a tree, at the roaring waters of Strumon-j-:
his locks of age arc gray : he leans forward on his (iaff; youn^
Gaul is near the hero, hearing the battles of his youth. Often did
he rife, in the fire of his foul, at the mighty deeds of Morni.
The aged heard the found of Ofiian's fliield : he knew the fign
of battle. He Parted at once from his place. His gray hair part-
ed on his back. He remembers the actions of other years. My
fon, he faid to fair haired Gaul, I hear the found of battle. The
king of Morven is returned, the fign of war is heard. Go to
the halls of Strumon, and bring his arms to Morni. Bring the
arms which my father wore in his age, for my arm begins to fail.
Take thou thy armour, O Gaul; and rufh to the firfl of thy battles.
Let thine arm reach to the renown of thy fathers. Be thy courfe in
the field, like the eagle's wing. Why fliouldft thou fear death, my
fon ! the valiant fall with fame ; their fhields turn the dark ftream
of danger away, and renown dwells on their gray hairs. Doll thou
not fee, O Gaul, how the fteps of my age are honoured ? Morni
moves forth, and the young meet him, with reverence, and turn
their eyes, with filent joy, on his courfe. But I never fled from
danger, my fon ! my fword lightened through the darknefs of battle.
The ftranger melted before me ; the mighty were blafled in my
prefence.
Gaul brought the arms to Morni : the aged warrior covered hini-
fclf with fleel. He took the fpear in his hand, which was often
* Morni was chief of a numerous tribe, two heroes perfectly reconciled in this
in the days of Fingal and his father Com- poem.
hal. The laft mentioned hero was killed f Stru'-mone, Jlream of the hill. Here
in battle againft ,\]orni's tiibe; but the the proper name of rivulet in the neigli-
valour and conduct of Fingal' reduced bourhood of Selma,
them, at laft, to obedience. We finJ the
I flained
A P O E M. 231
ftained with the blood of the valiant. He came towards Fingal,
his foil attended his fteps. The fon of Comhal rejoiced over the
warrior, when he came in the locks of his age.
King of the roaring Strumon ! faid the rifing joy of Fingal; do
I behold thee in arms, after thy ftrength has failed ? Often has
Morni flione in battles, like the beam of the riling fun ; when he
difperfes the ftorms of the hill, and brings peace to the glittering
fields. But why didft thou not reft in thine age ? Thy renown is
in the fong. The people behold thee, and blefs the departure of
mighty Morni. Why didft thou not reft in thine age ? For the foe
will vanifti before Fingal.
Son of Comhal, replied the chief, the ftrength of Morni's arm
has fuled. I attempt to draw the fvvord of my youth, but it re-
mains in its place. I throw the fpear, but it falls fliort of the mark ;
and I feel the weight of my fliield. We decay, like the grafs of
the mountain, and our ftrength returns no more. I have a fon, O
Fingal, his foul has delighted in the adtions of Morni's youth; but
his fword has not been lifted againft the foe, neither has his fame
begun. I come with him to battle ; to direct his arm. Flis re-
nown will be a fun to my foul, in the dark hour of my departure.
O that the name of Morni were forgot among the people ! that the
heroes would only fay, " Behold the father of Gaul !"
King of Strumon, Fingal replied, Gaul ftiall lift the fword in
battle. But he fhall lift it before Fingal ; my arm ftiall defend
his youth. But reft thou in the halls ofSelma; and hear of our
renown. Bid the harp be ftrung; and the voice of the bard arife,
that thofe who fall may rejoice in their fame; and the foul of
Morni brighten with gladnefs. Oftian ! thou haft fought iii
battles :
232 L A T H M O N:
battles : the blood of Grangers is on thy fpear : let thv courfe be
with Gaul in the ftrife -, but depart not from the fide of Fingal ;
left the foe find you alone, and your fame fiul at once.
I SAW * Gaul in his arms, and my foul was mixed with his : for
the fire of the battle was in his eyes ! he looked to the foe with joy.
We fpoke the words offriendfliip in fecret; and the lightning of
our fwords poured together ; for \vc drew them behind the wood,
and tried the ftrength of our arms on the empty air.
Night came down on Morven. Fingal fat at the beam of the
oak. Morni fat by his fide with all his gray waving locks. Their
difcourfe is of other times, and the anions of their fathers. Three
bards, at times, touched the harp ; and Ullin was near with his
fong. He fung of the mighty Comhal ; but darknefs gathered ■\-
on Morni's brow. He rolled his red eye on Ullin ; and the fong of
the bard ceafed. Fingal obferved the aged hero, and he mildly
fpoke.
Chief of Strumon, why that darknefs? Let the days of other
years be forgot. Our fathers contended in battle ; but we meet to-
gether, at the feaft. Our fwords are turned on the foes, and they
melt before us on the field. Let the days of our fathers be forgot,
king of mofiy Strumon.
* Offian fpeaks. Thecontraft between m's Irow, did not proceed from any diflike
the old and young heroes is flrongly mark- he had to Combal's name, though they
ed. The circumftance of the latter's draw- were foe.-, but from his fear that the fong
ing their fwordg is well imagined, and would awaken Fingal to remembrance of
agrees with the impatience of young fol- the feuds which had fubfifted of old be-
diers, juft entered upon ad^ion. twcen the families. Fingal's fpeech on
t Ullin had choftn ill the fubjea of his this occafion ab.unds with gsnerofity and
fong. The darkntfs which gathered on Mci- good fcnfe.
1 King
A POEM. 233
King of Moi-ven, replied the chief, I remember thy father with
joy. He was terrible in battle ; the rage * of the chief was deadly.
My eyes were full of tears, when the king of heroes fell. The va-
liant fall, O Fingal, and the feeble remain on the hills. How
many heroes have palfed away, in the days of Morni ! And I did
not ihun the battle ; neither did I fly from the ftrife of the valiant.
Now let the friends of Fingal reft; for the night is around ; that
they may rife, with flrength, to battle againft car-borne Lathinon.
I hear the found of his hoft, like thunder heard on a diftant heath.
Offian ! and fair-haired Gaul ! ye are fwift in the race. Obfervo
the foes of Fingal from that woody hill. But approach them not,
your fathers are not near to fliield you. Let not your fame fall at
once. The valour of youth may fail.
We heard the words of the chief with joy, and moved in the
clang of our arms. Our iteps are on the woody hill. Heaven burns
with all its flars. The meteors of death fly over the field. The
diftant noife of the foe reached our ears. It was then Gaul fpoke, in
his valour j- his hand half-unfheathed the fword.
Son of Fingal, he faid, why burns the foul of Gaul ? My heart
beats high. My fteps are difordered i and my hand trembles on my
fword. When I look towards the foe, my foul lightens before me,
and I fee their fleeping hoft. Tremble thus the fouls of the valiant
in battles of the fpear ? How would the foul of Morni rife if we
* This expreflion is ambiguous in the tor has endeavoured to preferve the fame
original. It either fignifies that Comhal ambiguity in the verfion ; as it was pro-
killed many in battle, or that he was im- bably dedgncd by the poet,
placable in his refentment. The tranfla-
H h ihouli
2 34 L A T H M O N:
fliould rufli on the foe! Our renown would grow in the fong; and
our fleps be ftately in the eyes of the brave.
Son of Morni, I rephed, my foul delights in battle. I delight
to fhine in battle alone, and to give my name to the bards. But
what if the foe fhould prevail ; fliall I behold the eyes of the king r
They are terrible in his difpleafure, and like the flames of death. —
But I will not behold them in his wrath. Oflian fhall prevail or
fall. But fhall the flmie of the vanquiilied rife ? — Thsy pafs away
like a fhadow. But the fame of Ofiian ihall rife. His deeds fliall
be like his fathers. Let us rufli in our arms ; foe of Morni, let us
rufli to battle. Gaul ! if thou flialt return, go to Selma's lofty
wall. Tell to Evirallin * that I fell with fame ; carry this fword to
Branno's daughter. Let her give it to Ofcar, when the years of
his youth lliall arile.
Son of Fingal, Gaul replied with a figh ; will I return after Of-
fian is low ! — What would my father fay, and Fingal king of men ?
The feeble would turn their eyes and fay, " Behold the mighty
Gaul who left his friend in his blood !" Ye fhall not behold me, ye
feeble, but in the midft of my renown. Oflian ! I have heard from
my father the mighty deeds of heroes ; their mighty deeds when
alone -, for the foul increafes in danger.
Son of Morni, I replied and flrode before him on die heath,
our fiithers ihall praife our valour, when they mourn our f^ill. A
beam of gladnefs fhall rife on their fouls, when their eyes are full
of tears. They will fay, " Our fons have not fallen like the grafs
of the field, for they fpread death around them." But why
* Oflian had married her a little time lady is introduced, as an epifode, in the
before. The ftory of his courtfhip of this fourth book of Fingal.
i fhould
A POEM. 23^
fluould wc think of the narrow houfe ? The fword defends the va-
liant. But death purfues the flight of the feeble ; and their re-
nown is not heard.
We rudied forward through night ; and came to the roar of a
ftream which bent its blue courfe round the foe, through trees that
ecchoed to its noife ; we came to the bank of the llream, and faw
the fleeping hoft. Their fires were decayed on the plain ; and the
lonely fteps of their fcouts were diftant far. I ftretched my fpear
before me to fupport my fleps over the ftream. But Gaul took my
hand, and Ipoke the words of the valiant.
Shall * the fon of Fingal rufli on a fleeping foe ? Shall he come
like a blafl; by night when it overturns the young trees in fecret ?
Fingal did not thus receive his fame, nor dwells renown on the gray
hairs of Morni, for adlions like thefe. Strike, Oflian, ftrike the
fliield of battle, and let their thoufands rife. Let them meet Gaul
in his firft battle, that he may try the ftrength of his arm.
My foul rejoiced over the warrior, and my burfl:ing tears de-
fcended. And the foe fliall meet Gaul, I faid : the fame of Morni's
fon fhall arife. But rufli not too far, my hero : let the gleam of
thy ftcel be near to OlTian. Let our hands join in flaughter.-
Gaul ! dofl: thou not behold that rock ? Its gray fide dimly gleams
to the fiars. If the foe fliall prevail, let our back be towards the
* This propofal of Gaul is much more ing difma^.ed with the found of Offian's
noble, and more agreeable to true heroifni, (hield, which was the common fignal of
than the behaviour of UlyfTes and Die- battle, thought that Fingal's whole army
med in the Iliad, or that of Nifus and Ea- came to attack them ; fo that they fly in
ryalus in the ^neid. What his valour reality from an army, not from two he-
aiid generofity fuggefted became the foun- roes ; which reconciles the ftory to pro-
datlon of his fuccefs. For the enemy be- bability.
H h 2 rock
236 LATH M O N:
rock. Then Hiall they fear to approach our fpears ; for death is in
our hands.
I STRUCK thrice my ecchoing fhleld. The ftarting foe arofe.
We rufhed on in the found of our arms. Their crouded fteps fly
over the heath ; for they thought that the mighty Finga] came ;
and the flrength of their arms withered away. The found of their
fii»ht was like that of flame, when it rufhes thro' the blafted groves.
It was then the fpear of Gaul flew in its ftrength ; it was then
his fword arole. Cremor fell j and mighty Leth. Dunthormo
ftruf^o-led in his blood. The fteel ruflied through Crotho's flde, as
bent, he rofe on his fpear ; the black ftream poured from the wound,
and hilTed on the half-extinguiflied oak. Cathmin faw the fteps of
the hero behind him, and afcended a blafted tree^ but the fpear pierced
him from behind. Shrieking, panting, he fell ; mofs and withered
branches purfue his fall, and Itrew the blue arms of Gaul;
Such were thy deeds. Ion of Morni, in the hrlT: of thy battles.
Nor flept the fword by thy fide, thou lafl: of Fingal's race ! OfTian
ruflied forward in his ftrength, and the people fell before him ; as
the grafs by the ftaff" of the boy, when he whiftles along the field,
and the gray beard of the thiflle falls. But carelefs the youth moves
on i his fteps are towards the defart.
Gray morning rofe around us, the winding ftreams are bright
along the heath. The foe gathered on a hill ; and the rage of Lath-
mon rofe. He bent the red eye of his wrath : he is f]le»t in his
riling grief. He often ftruck his bofiy fhield ; and his fteps are un-
equal on the heath. I faw the diftant darknefs of the hero, and I
fpoke to Morni's foil.
Car-
A P O E M. 237
Car-borne * chief of Strumon, dofl: thou behold the foe ? They
gather on the hill in their wrath. Let our fteps be towards the
king f. He fhall rife in his ftrength, and the hoft of Lathmon
vanifh. Our fame is around us, warrior, the eyes of the aged :|:
will rejoice. But let us fly, fon of Moral, Lathmon defcends
the hill.
Then let our fteps || be flow, rejilied the fair-haired Gaul i left
the foe fay, with a fmile, " Behold the warriors of night, they
are, like ghofts, terrible in darknefs, but they melt away before the
beam of the eaft." OiTian, take the ihield of Gormar who fell be-
neath thy fpear, that the aged heroes may rejoice, when they ftiall
behold the adtions of their fons.
Such were our words on the plain, when Sulmath 4- came to
car-borne Lathmon : Sulmath chief of Dutha at the dark-rolling
ftream of Duvranna §. Why doft thou not rufh, fon of Nuath,
with a thouland of thy heroes ? Why doft thou not defcend with
thy hoft, before the warriors fly ? Their blue arms are beaming to
the rifing light, and their fteps are before us on the heath.
Son
* Car-borne is a title of honour beftowed, afterwards rebelled againft Fingal, which
by Offian, indifcrimina;ely on every hero ; might be fuppofed to have bred prejudices
as every chief, in his time, kept a chariot againft him in the breaft of Offian. But as
or litter by way of ftate. Gaul, from an enemy, became Fingal's
t Fingal. firmeft friend and greateft hero, the poet
i Fingal and Morni. paflcs over one flip in his conduct, on ac-
II The behaviour of Gaul, throughout count of his many virtues,
this poem, is that of a hero in the moft 4. Suil-mhath, a man ofgocd eye-fight.
exalted fenfe. The modefty of Offian, con- § Dubh-bhranna, dark mcuntain-Jlream, '^
cerninz his own anions, is not lefs re- What river went by this name, in the days
markable than his impartiality with regard of Offian, is not eafily afcertained, at this
to Gaul, for it is well known that Gaul diilance of time. A river in Scotland,
svhich
238 L A T H M O N:
Son of the feeble hand, faid Lathmon, Ihall my hoft defcend !
They* are but two, fon ofDutha, and fliall a thouland Uft their
fteel ! Nuath would mourn, in his hall, for the departure of his
fame. His eyes would turn from Latlimon, when the tread of his
feet approached.
Go thou to the heroes, chief of Dutha, for I behold the flately
fteps of Oflian. His fame is worthy of my rteel ; let him fight
with Lathmon.
The noble Sulmath came. I rejoiced in the words of the king.
I raifed the fliield on my arm ; and Gaul placed in my hand the
fword of Morni. We returned to the murmuring llream ; Lath-
mon came in his ftrength. His dark hoft rolled, like the clouds, be-
hind him : but the fon of Nulith was bright in his fteel.
Son of Fingal, faid the hero, thy fame has grown on our fall.
How many lie there of my people by thy hand, thou king of men !
Lift now thy fpear againft Lathmon ; and lay the fon of Nuiith
low. Lay him low among his people, or thou thyfelf muft fall.
which falls into the fea at BanfF, ftill re-
tains the name of Duvran. If that is meant,
by Uffian, in this paffage, Lathmon muft
have been a prince of the Pic^ifh nation, or
thofe Caledonians who inhabited of olJ the
eaftern coaft of Scotland.
* Offian feldom fails to give his heroes,
though enemiss, that generofity of temper
which, it appears from his p ems, was a
confpicuous part of his own charafler.
Thofe who too much defpife their enemies
do not reflect, that the more they take
from the valour of their foes, the Jefs me-
rit they have themfelvcs in conquering
them. The cuflom of depreciating ene-
mies is not altogether one of the refine-
ments of modern heroifm. This railing
difpofition is one of the capital faults in
Komer's charaflers, which, by the bye,
cannot be imputed to the poet, who kept
to the maniiers of the times of which he
wrote. Milton has followed Homer in this
refpect; but railing is lefs fhocking in in-
fernal fpirits, who are the objefls of horror,
than in heroes, who are fct up as patterns
of imitation.
It
A P O E M. 239
It fliall never be told in my halls that my warriors fell in my pre-
fence ; that they fell in the prefence of Lathmon when his fword
refted by his fide : the blue eyes of Cutha* would roll in tears, and
her fteps be lonely in the vales of Dunlathmon.
Neither fliall it be told, I replied, that the fon of Fingal Hed.
Were his fteps covered with darknefs, yet would not Offian fly ; his
foul would meet him and fay, " Does the bard of Selma fear the foe ?"
No : he does not fear the foe. His joy is in the midft of battle.
Lathmon came on with his fpear, and pierced the (hield of
Offian. I felt the cold fteel at my fide j and drew the fword of
Morni ; I cut the fpear in twain ; the bright point fell glittering on
the ground. The fon of Nuath burnt in his wrath, and lifted high
his founding fliield. His dark eyes rolled above it, as bending for-
ward, it flione like a gate of brafs. But Ofilan's fpear pierced the
brightnefs of its boffes, and funk in a tree that rofe behind. The
fliield hung on the quivering lance ! but Lathmon ftill advanced.
Gaul forefaw the fall of the chief, and ftretched his buckler before
my fword ; when it delcended, in a ftream of light over the king of
Dunlathmon.
Lathmon beheld the fon of Morni, and the tear ftarted from his
eye. He threw the fword of his fathers on the ground, and fpoke
the words of the valiant. Why fliould Lathmon fight againft the
fijft of mortal men ? Your fouls are beams from heaven ; your fwords
the flames of death. Who can equal the renown of the heroes,
whofe acflions are fo great in youth ! O that ye were in the halls of
Nuath, in the green dwelling of Lathmon ! then would my father
fay, that his fon did not yield to the feeble. — But who comes, a
* Cutha appears to have been Lathmon's wife or miftrefs,
mighty
240 L A T H M O N:
■mighty ftream, along the ecchoing heath ? the Httle hills are trou-
bled before him, and a thoufand ghofts are on the beams of his fteel;
the ghofts * of thofe who are to fall by the arm of the king of re-
founding Morven. — Happy art thou, O Fingal, thy fons fhall fight
thy battles ; they go forth before thee; and they return with the
fleps of their renown.
Fingal came, in his mildnefs, rejoicing In fecret over the aclions
of his fon. Morni's face brightened with gladnefs, and his aged eyes
look faintly through the tears of joy. We came to the halls of Selma,
and fat round the feaft of fliells. The maids of the fong came into our
prefence, and the mildly blufliing Evirallin. Her dark hair fpreads
on her neck of fnow, her eye rolled in fecret on Olllan ; llie touched
the harp of mufic, and we blelfed the daughter of Branno.
Fingal rofe in his place, and fpoke to Dunlathmon's battling king.
The fword of Trenmor trembled by his fide, as he lifted up his
mighty arm. Son of Nuath, he faid, why doft thou fearch for fame
in Morven ? We are not of the race of the feeble ; nor do our fwords
sleam over the weak. When did we come to Dunlathmon, with
the found of war ? Fingal does not delight in battle, though his
arm is ftrong. My renown grows on the fall of the haughty. The
lightning of my fteel pours on the proud in arms. The battle comes ;
and the tombs of the valiant rile ; the tombs of my people riie, O
my fathers ! and I at laft muft remain alone. But I will remain re-
nowned, and the departure of my foul fliall be one ftream of light,
Lathmon! retire to thy place. Turn thy battles to other lands.
The race of Morven are renowned, and their foes are the fons of
the unhappy.
* It wa» thought, in Offian's time, that traditions x:oncemliig this opinion are dark
each perfon hid his attending fpiri;. The and unfati'taclory.
OITHONA:
( 241 )
O I T H O N A:
A
POEM *.
DARKNESS dwells around Dunlathmon, though the moon
fliews half her face on the hill. The daughter of night
turns her eyes away ; for flie beholds the grief that is coming. —
The fon of Morni is on the plain ; but there is no found in the hall.
No
* Gaul, the fon of Morni, attended
Lathmon into his own country, after his
being defeated in Morven, as related in
tlie preceding poem. He was kindly en-
tertained by Nuath, the father of Lath-
mon, and fell in love with his daughter
Oithona. -The lady was no lefs ena-
moured of Gaul, and a day was fixed for
their marriage. In the mean time Fingal, pre-
pating for an expedition into the country of
the Britons, fentfor Gaul. He obeyed, and
went i but not without promifing to Oithona
to return, if he furvived the war, by a cer-
I
tain day. — Lathmon too was obliged to
attend his father Nuath in his wars, and
Oithona was left alone at Dunlathmon,
the feat of the family. — Dunrommath, lord
of Uthal, fuppofed to be one of the Ork-
neys, taking advantage of the abfence
of her friends, came and carried off, by
force, Oithona, who had formerly reject-
ed his love, into Tiomathon, a defart
ifland, where he concealed her in a cave.
Gaul returned on the day appointed ;
heard of the rape, and failed to Troma-
thon, to revenge himfelf on Dunrom-
i math.
242 O I T H O N A :
No long-ftreaming * beam of light comes trembling through the
eloom. The voice of Oithona + is not heard amidft the noife of
the ftreams of Duvranna.
Whither art thou gone in thy beauty, dark-haired daughter of
Nuath ? Lathmon is in the field of the valiant, but thou didft pro-
mile to remain in the hall ; thou didft promife to remain in the hall
till the fon of Morni returned. Till he returned from Strumon, to
the maid of his love. The tear was on thy cheek at his departure;
the figh rofe in fecret in thy breaft. But thou doft not come to
meet him, with fongs, with the lightly-trembling found of
the harp.
Such were the words of Gaul, when he came to Dunlathmon's
towers. The gates were open and dark. The winds were blufter-
ing in the hall. The trees ftrowed the threfliold with leaves ; and
the murmur of night is abroad. — Sad and filent, at a rock, the fon
of Morni fat : his foul trembled for the maid ; but he knew not
math. When he landed, he found Oi- the field : he mourned over her, raifed
thona difconfolate, and refolved not to her tomb, and returned to Morven.
furvive the lofs of her honour. — She told Thus is the ftory handed down by tradi-
him the ftory of her misfortunes, and Ihe tion ; nor is it given with any material
fcarce ended, -when Dunrommath, with difference in the poem, which opens with
his followers, appeared at the further end Gaul's return to Dunlathmon, after the
of the illand. Gaul prepared to attack rape of Oithona.
him, recommending to Oithona to retire, * Some trentle taoer
till the battle was over. — She feemingly vifit us
obeyed j but fhe fecretly armed herfelf, rulh- With thy long levelled rule of ftreaming
ed into the thickeft of the battle, and was light. Milton.
mortally wounded.— Gaul purfuing the ^ Oi-thona, thi virgin cf the wjve.
flying enemy, found her juft expiring on
1 whither
A P O E M. 245
whither to turn his courfe. The fon | of Leth flood at a diftance,
and heard the winds in his bufliy hair. But he did not raife his
voice, for he faw the forrow of Gaul.
Sleep defcended on the heroes. The vifions of night arofe.
Oithona ftood in a dream, before the eyes of Morni's fon. Her
dark hair was loofe and difordered : her lovely eye rolled in tears.
Blood ftained her fnowy arm. The robe half hid the wound of her
breaft. She ftood over the chief, and her voice was heard.
Sleeps the fon of Morni, he that was lovely in the eyes of
Oithona ? Sleeps Gaul at the diftant rock, and the daughter of
Nuath low ? The fea rolls round the dark ifle of Tromathon ; I
fit in my tears in the cave. Nor do I fit alone, O Gaul, the dark
chief of Cuthal is there. He is there in the rage of his love. — And
what can Oithona do ?
A ROUGHER blafl rufhed through the oak. The dream of night
departed. Gaul took his afpen fpear ; he ftood in the rage of wrath.
Often did his eyes turn to the eaft, and accufe the lagging light. — ■
At length the morning came forth. The hero lifted up the fail.
The winds came ruftling from the hill; and he bounded on the
waves of the deep. — On the third day arofe Tromathon *, Hke a
blue ihield in the midft of the fea. The white wave roared againft
I Morlo, the foil of Leth, is one of ThenfweU'd tofightPhsacia'sdufky coaft,
Fiiigal's moft famous heroes. He and And woody mountains half in vapours loft j
three other men attended Gaul on his ex-
pedition to Tromathon
That lay before him indifliniff and vaft,
JJke a broad fliie'd amid the watry wafte.
* Kpavr, cfix <rxict,/TX
Fai'tij $«i»xsj»,— — t Trom-thon, heavy or diep-fotir.ding
— — u)f Off pti'W £v Tii^onSil -Kv/fj). wavf.
HoM. Od. V. z8o.
I i 2 its
244 O I T H O N A :
its rocks j fiid Oithona fat on the coaft. She looked on the roUin-y
waters, and her tears delcend. But when flie law Gaul in his
arms, fhe ftarted and turned her eyes away. Her lovely cheek is
bent and red ; her white arm trembles by her fide. — Thrice (lie
ftrove to fly from his prefence ; but her fteps failed her as
{he went.
Daughter of Nuath, faid the hero, why doft thou fly from
Gaul .'' Do my eyes fend forth the flame of death .'' Or darkens hatred
in my foul ? Thou art to me the beam of the eaft rifing in a land
unknown. But thou covereft thy face with fadnefs, daughter of
high Dunlathmon ! Is the foe of Oithona near ? My foul burns
to meet him in battle. The fword trembles on the fide of Gaul,
and longs to glitter in his hand. Speak, daughter of Nuath, doft
thou not behold my tears ?
Car-borne chief of Strumon, replied the fighing maid, why
comefl thou over the dark-blue wave to Nuiith's mournful daughter ?
Why did I not pafs away in fecret, like the flower of the rock, that
lifts its fair head unfeen, and ftrows its withered leaves on the
blaft ? Why didft thou come, O Gaul, to hear my departing figh ?
I pafs away in my youth; and my name fhall not be heard.
Or it will be heard with forrow, and the tears of Nuath will fall.
Thou wilt be fad, fon of Morni, for the fallen fame of Oithona.
But fne fliall fleep in the narrow tomb, far from the voice of the
mourner. Why didfl thou come, chief of Strumon, to the.fea-
beat rocks of Tromathon.
I CAME to meet thy foes, daughter of car-borne Nuath! the death
of Cuthal's chief darkens before me ; or Morni's fon fliall fall. —
Oithona! v/hen Gaulis low, raife my tomb on that oozy rock j and
r when
A POEM. 245
when the dark-bounding fliip (hall pafs, call the fons of the fea ; call
them, and give this fword, that they may carry it to Morni's hall j
that the grey-haired hero may ceafe to look towards the defart for
the return of his fon.
And fliall the daughter of Nuath live, (lie rephed with a burfling
figh ? Shall I live in Tromathon, and the fon of Morni low ?
My heart is not of that rock ; nor my foul carelefs as that fea,
which lifts its blue waves to every wind, and rolls beneath the
ftorm. The blaft which fliall lay thee low, fliall fpread the
branches of Oithona on earth. We fhall wither together, fon of
car-borne Morni ! The narrow houfe is pleafant to me, and the
gray flone of the dead : for never more will I leave thy rocks, fea-
furrounded Tromathon ! — Night * came on with her clouds, after
the departure of Lathmon, when he went to the wars of his fathers,
to the mofs-covered rock of Duthormoth ; night came on, and I fat
in the hall, at the beam of the oak. The wind was abroad in the
trees. I heard the found of arms. Joy rofe in my face ,• for I
thought of thy return. It was the chief of Cuthal, the red-haired
ftrength of Dunrommath. His eyes rolled in fire : the blood of my
people was on his fword. They who defended Oithona fell by the
gloomy chief. What could I do ? My arm was weak ; it could
not lift the fpear. He took me in my grief, amidft my tears he
raifed the fail. He feared the returning ftrength of Lathmon, the
brother of unhappy Oithona. But behold, he comes with his
people ! the dark wave is divided before him ! — Whither wilt thou
turn thy fteps, fon of Morni ? Many are the warriors of Dua-
rommath !
* Oithon.i relates how fhe was carried away by Dunrommath*
Mv
246 O I T H O N A :
My fteps never turned from battle, replied the hero, as he un-
flieathed his fword ; and will I begin to fear, Oithona, when thy
foes are near ? Go to thy cave, daughter of Nuath, till our battle
ceafe. Son of Leth, bring the bows of our fathers ; and the found-
ing quiver of Morni. Let our three warriors bend the yew. Our
felves will lift the fpear. They are an hoft on the rock ; but our
fouls are ftrong.
The daughter of Nuath went to the cave : a troubled joy rofe
on her mind, like the red path of the lightning on a ftormy cloud.
—Her foul was refolved, and the tear was dried from her wildly-
looking eye. — Dunrommath llowly approached ; for he faw the fon
of Morni. Contempt contraifled his face, a fmile is on his dark-
brown cheek ; his red eye rolled, half-conceald, beneath his
fliaggy brows.
Whence are the fons of the fea, begun the gloomy chief?
Have the winds driven you to the rocks of Tromathon ? Or come
you in fearch of the white-handed daughter of Nuiith ? The fons
©f the unhappy, ye feeble men, come to the hand of Dunrommath.
His eye fpares not the weak ; and he delights in the blood of
ftrangers. Oithona is a beam of light, and the chief of Cuthal
enjoys it in fecret j wouldft thou come on its lovelinels like a cloud,
fon of the feeble hand ! — Thou maylt come, but fhalt thou return to
the halls of thy fathers ?
Dost thou not know me, faid Gaul, red-haired chief of Cuthal?
Thy feet were fwift on the heath, in the battle of car-borne Lath-
mon ; when the fword of Morni's fon purfued his hoft, in Morven's
woody land. Dunrommath ! thy words are mighty, for thy warriors
gather
A P O E M. 247
gather behind tliee. But do I fear them, fon of pride ? I am not
of the race of the feeble.
Gaul advanced in his arms; Dunrommath fhrunk behind his
people. But the fpear of Gaul pierced the gloomy chief, and his
fword lopped off his head, as it bended in death. The fon of
Morni fliook it thrice by the lock ; the warriors of Dunrommath
fled. The arrows of Morven purfued them : ten fell on the mofly
rocks. The reft; lift the founding fail, and bound on the eccho-
ing deep.
Gaul advanced towards the cave of Oithona. He beheld a youth
leaning againft: a rock. An arrow had pierced his fide ; and his eye
rolled faintly beneath his helmet. — The foul of Morni's fon is fad,
he came and Ipoke the words of peace.
Can the hand of Gaul heal thee, youth of the mournful brow ?
I have fearched for the herbs of the mountains j I have gathered
them on the fecret banks of their fl:reams. My hand has clofed the
wound of the valiant, and their eyes have blefled the fon of Morni.
Where dwelt thy fathers, warrior ? Were they of the fons of the
mighty ? Sadnefs fliall come, like night, on thy native ft;reams j
for thou art fallen in thy youth.
My fathers, replied the flranger, were of the fons of the mighty j
but they fhall not be fad ; for my fame is departed like morning
mift:. High walls rife on the banks of Duvranna ; and fee their
moffy towers in the fl:ream ; a rock afcends behind them with its
bending firs. Thou mayfl; behold it far diftant. There my bro-
ther dwells. He is renowned in battle : give him this glitter-
ing helmet.
The
248 O I T H O N A.
The helmet fell from the hand of Gaul ; for it was the wounded
Oithona. She had armed herfelf in the cave, and came in fearch of
death. Her heavy eyes are half clofed ; the blood pours from
her fide.
Son of Morni, fiie faid, prepare the narrow tomb. Sleep comes,
like a cloud, on my foul. The eyes of Oithona are dim. O had
I dwelt at Duvranna, in the bright beam of my fame ! then had
my years come on with joy ; and the virgins would blefs my lleps.
But I fall in youth, fon of Morni, and my father fliall blufli
in his hall.
She fell pale on the rock of Tromathon. The mournful hero
raifed her tomb. He came to Morven ; but we faw the darknefs
of his foul. OiTian took the harp in the praife of Oithona. The
brightnefs of the face of Gaul returned. But his figh rofe, at times,
in the midft of his friends, like blafts that fliake their unfrequent
wings, after the flormy winds are laid.
C R O M A :
( 249 )
G R O M
POEM
*
IT was the voice of my love ! few are his vifits to the dreams of
Malvina ! Open your airy halls, ye fathers of mighty Tofcar.
Unfold the gates of your clouds ; the fteps of Malvina's departure
are near. I have heard a voice in my dream. I feel the fluttering
of my foul. Why didfl thou come, O blaft, from the dark-rolling
of the lake ? Thy ruftling wing was in the trees, the dream of Mal-
vina departed. But flie beheld her love, when his robe of mift
flew on the wind ; the beam of the fun was on his fl-cirts, they glit-
tered like the gold of the flranger. It was the voice of my love !
few are his viilts to my dreams !
* Malvina the daughter of Tofcar is
overheard by Offiaii lamenting the death
of Ofcar her lover. Cffian, to divert her
grief, relates his own adlions in an ex;;edi-
tion which he undertook, at Fingal's com-
mand, to aid Cro'.har the petty king of
Croma, a country in Irelant", againft Roth-
mar who invaded his dominions. The
ftory is delivered down thus in tradition.
Crothar king of Croma being blind with
ao^, and his fon too young for the field,
Rothmar the chief of Tromlo refolved to
avail himfelf of the opportunity offered of
annexing the dominions of Crothar to his
own. He accordingly marched into the
K
country fubjefl to Crothar, but which he
held of Arth or Artho, who was, at the
time, fupreme king of Ireland.
Crothar being, on account of his age
and blindnefs, unfit for adlion, fent for
aid to Fingal king of Scotland ; who
ordertd his fon Offian to the relief of
Crothar. But before his arrival Fovar-
gormo, the fon of Crothar, attacking Roth-
mar, was flain himfelf, and his forces to-
tally defeated. Oflian renewed the war ;
came to battle, killed Rothmar, and rout-
ed his army. Croma being thus delivered
of its enemies, OlTiaii returned to Scot-
land.
k But
250 C R O M A:
But thoa dv/cllcil; in the foul of Malvina, fon of mighty Ollian.
My fighs arife with the beam of the call: ; my tears dcfcend witli
the drops of night. I was a lovely tree, in thy prefence, Ofcar,
with all my branches round me ; but thy death came like a blart
from the defart, and laid my green head low ; the fpring returned
with its fliowers, but no leaf of mine arofe. The virgins faw me-
filent in th-e hall, and they touched the harp of joy. The tear was
on the cheek of Malvina : the virgins beheld me in my grief. Why
art thou fad, they faid ; thou firft of the maids of Lutha ? Was he
lovely as the beam of the morning, and ftately in thy fight .'*
Pleasant is thy fong in Ofllan's ear, daughter of ftreamy Lu-
tha ! Thou haft heard the mufic of departed bards in the dream of
thy reft, when fleep fell on thine eyes, at the murmur of Moruth *.
When thou didft return from the chace, in the day of the fun, thou
haft heard the mufic of the bards, and thy fong is lovely. It is
lovely, O Malvina, but it melts the foul. There is a joy in grief
when peace dwells in the breaft of the fad. But forrow waftes the
mournful, O daughter of Tofcar, and their days are few. They
fall away, like the flower on which the fun looks in his ftrength
after the mildew has paflcd over it, and its head is heavy with the
drops of night. Attend to the tale of Ofllan, O maid ; he remem-
bers the days of liis youth.
The king commanded; I raifed my fails, and rafhed into the
bay of Croma ; into Croma's founding bay in lovely Inisfail -f-. High
on the coaft arofe the towers of Crothar king of fpears ; Crothar
renowned in the battles of his youth ; but age dwelt then around
the chief. Rothmar raifed the fword againft the hero; and the
* Mor'-ruth, great Jlream. f Iniifail, on of the ancient names of Ireland.
2 wrath
A P O E M. 251
wrath of Fingal burned. He fent Offian to meet Rothmar in battle,
for the chief of Croma was the companion of his youth,
I SENT the bard before me with fongs ; I came into the hall
of Crothar. There fat the hero amidft the arms of his fathers, but
his eyes had failed. His gray locks waved around a A:\ff, on which
the warrior leaned. He hummed the fong of other times, when
the found of our arms reached his ears. Crothar rofe, ftretched his
aged hand and blefled the fon of Fingal.
OssiAN ! faid the hero, the ftrength of Crothar's arm has failed.
O could I lift the fword, as on the day that Fingal fought at Stru-
tha ! He was the firft of mortal men i but Crothar had alfo his
fame. The king of Morven praifed me, and he placed on my arm
the boffy fliield of Calthar, whom the hero had flain in war. Dofi:
thou not behold it on the wall, for Crothar's eyes have failed ? Is thy
flrength, like thy fathers, Offian ? let the aged feel thine arm.
I CAVE my arm to the king ; he feels it with his aged hands. The
{igh rofe in his breaft, and his tears defcended. Thou art ftrong,
my fon, he faid, but not like the king of Morven. But who is like
the hero among the mighty in war ! Let the feaft of my halls be
fpread ; and let my bards raife the fong. Great is he that is within
my walls, fons of ecchoing Croma !
The feaft is fpread. The harp is heard ; and joy is in the hall.
But it was joy covering a figh, that darkly dwelt in every breaft. It
was like the faint beam of the moon fpread on a cloud in heaven.
At length tlie niufic ceafed, and the aged king of Croma fpoke ;
he fpokc without a tear, but the figh fwelled in the midft of his
voice.
K k 2 Son
252 C R O M A:
Son ofFingal! doft thou not behold the darknefs of Crothnr's
hall of fliells ? My foul was not dark at the feaft, when my people
lived. I rejoiced in the prtfcnce of Grangers, when my fon Ihone
in the hall. But, Offian, he is a beam that is departed, and left no
ftreak of light behind. He is fallen, fon of Fingal, in the battles
of his father. Rothmar the chief of graffy Tromlo heard that
my eyes had failed ; he heard that my arms were fixed in the hall,
and the pride of his foul arofe. He came towards Croma; my people
fell before him. I took my arms in the hall, but what could fight-
lefs Crothar do ? My fteps were unequal ; my grief was great. I
wifhed for the days that were part. Days ! wherein I fought ; and
won in the field of blood. My fon returned from the chace ; the
fair-haired Fovar-gormo *. He had not lifted his fword in battle,
for his arm was young. But the foul of the youth was great ; the
fire of valour burnt in his eyes. He faw the dilbrdered fleps of his
father, and his figh arofe. King of Croma, he faid, is it becaufe thou
haft no fon ; is it for the weaknefs of Fovar-gormo's arm that thy
fighs arife ? I begin, my father, to feel the fcrength of my arm ; I
have drawn the fword of my youth ; and I have bent the bow. Let
me meet this Rothmar, with the youths of Croma : let me meet
him, O my father j for I feel my burning foul.
And thou fnalt meet him, I faid, fon of the fightlefs Crothar!
But let others advance before thee, that I may hear the tread of thy feet
at thy return ; for my eyes behold thee not, fair-haired Fovar-gormo !
He went, he met the foe ; he fell. The foe advances towards
Croma. He who flev/ my fon is near, with all his pointed fpears.
It is not time to fill the fliell, I replied, and took my fpear. My
people faw the fire of my eyes, and they rofe around. All night we
• Faobhar-gorm, the blue point cfJleeL
Urode
A
POEM.
25:
ftrode along the heath. Gray morning rofc in tlie eaft. A green
narrow vale appeared before us ; nor did it want its blue ftream.
The dark hoft of Rothinar are on its banks, with all their glittering
arms. We fought along the vale ; they fled ; Rothmar funk be-
neath my fword. Day had not defcendsd in the weft when I brought
his arms to Crothar. The aged hero felt them with his hands ; and
joy brightened in his foul.
The people gather to the hall; the fliells of the fead are heard.
Ten harps are flirung ; five bards advance, and fmg, by turns *, the
praife of Oflian ; they poured forth their burning fouls, and the
harp anfwered to their voice. The joy of Croma was great : for
peace returned to the land. The night came on with filencc, and
the morning returned with joy. No foe eame in darknefs, with
his
* Thofe extempore compofitions were
in great repute among fucceeding bards.
The pieces extant of that kind fhew more
of the good ear, than of the poetical genius
of their authors. The tranflator has only
met with one poem of this fort, which he
thinks worthy of being preferved. It is
a thoufand years later than OiTian, but the
authors feem to have obferved his manner,
and adopted fome of his expreflions. The
l^ory ofitisthis. Five bards, palling the
night in the houfe of a chief, who was a
poet himfelf, went feverally to make their
obfervations on, and returned with an
extempore defcription of, night. The
night happened to be one in Oflober, as
appears from the poem, and in the north
of Scotland, it has all that variety which
the bards afcribe to it, in their defcriptlons.
First Bard.
XTIGHT is dull and dark. The clouds
reft on the hills. No flar with green
t.'cmbling beam ; no moon looks from the
(ky. I hear the blaft in the wood ; but I
hear it diftant far. The ftream of the valley
murmurs ; but its murmur is fulien and
f.d. From the tree at the grave of the
dead the long-howling owl is heard. I fee
a dim form on the plain ! — It is a ghoft !
—it fades — it files. Some funeral lliall pafs
this way: the meteor marks the path.
The diftant dog is howling from the hut
of the hill. The flag lies on the mountaiiv
mofs : the hind is at his fide. She hears
the wind in his branchy horns. She ftarts,
but lies again.
The roe is in the cleft of the rock ; the
heath-cock's head is beneath his wing. No
I beaft,
254
R
O
M
his glittering fpear. The joy of Croma was great ; for the gloomy
Rothmar fell.
I RAISED my voice for Fovar-gormo, when they laid the chief in
earth. The aged Crothar was there, but his figh was not heard.
He fearched for the wound of his fon, and found it in his breaft. Joy
rofe in the face of the aged. He came and fpoke to Ofljan.
beaft, no bird is abroad, but the owl and
the howling fox. She on a leaflefs tree :
he in a cloud on the hill.
Dark, panting, trembling, fad the tra-
veller has lofl: his way. Through fhrubs,
through thorns, he goes, along the gur-
gling rill. He fears the rock and the fen.
He fears the ghoft of night. The old tree
groans to the blafl ; the falling branch re-
founds. The wind drives the withered
burs, clung together, along the grafs. It
is the light tread of a ghoft ! — He trembles
amidft the night.
Dark, duflcy, howling is night, cloudy,
windy, anj lull of ghofts ! The dead are
abroad ! my friends, receive me from the
night.
Second Bard.
Tlie vvind is up. The fhovver dcfccnds.
'J'lie fpiritof the mountain ihrieks. Woods
fall fiom high. Windows flap. The grow-
in:' river roars. The traveller r.ttempts
the ford. Huk that Ihriek ! he dies: —
The llorm drives the horfe from the hill,
tlie goat, the lowing cow. They srcmble
a: drives the fiiower, btTidc the moulder-
in* bank.
King
The hunter flarts from fleep, in his
lonely hut ; he wakes the fire decayed. His
wet dogs fmoke around him. He fills the
chinks with heath. Loud roar two moun-
tain flreams which meet befide his booth.
Sad on the fide of a hill the wandering
fhepherd fits. The tree refounds above
him. The ftream roars down the rock. He
waits for the rifing moon to guide him to
his home.
Ghofts ride on the ftorm to-night. Sweet
is their voice between the fqualls of wind.
Their fongs are of other worlds.
The rain is pa'ft. The dry wind blows.
Streams roar, atiJ windows flap. Cold
drops fall from the roof. 1 fee the ftarry
ft:y. But the fhower gathers again. The
weft is gloomy and dark. Night is Hormy
and difma! ; receive me, my friends, from
night.
Third Bard.
The wind R\\ founds between the hills :
and whiftles through the grafs of the rock.
The firs fall from their place. The turfy
hut is torn. The clouds, divided, fiy over
the ft<y, and fhew the burning ftars. The
meteor, token of death ! flies fparkling
through
POEM.
255
King of Ipenrs ! he faid, my fon has not fallen without his fame.
The young warrior did not fiy; but met death, as he went forward
in his ftrength. Happy are they who die in youth, v/hen their re-
nown is heard ! Tlic feeble will not behold them in the hall ; or
fmile at their trembling hands. Their memory flaall bo honour-
ed in the long; the young tear of the virgin falls. But the aged
wither
through the gloom. It refts on the hiil. I
fee the withered fern, the dark browed
rock, the fallen oak. Wiio is :hatinhis
fhrowd beneath the tree, by the ftrtam ?
The waves dark-tumble on the lake,
and lafli its rocky fiJes. The boat is brim-
full in the cove ; the oars on the rocking
tide. A maid fits faj befide the rock, and
eyes the rolling flream. Her lover pro-
mifed to come. She faw his boat, when
yet it was light, on the lake. Is this his
broken boat on the (hore r Are thefe his
groans on the wind ?
Hark ! the hai! rattles around. The
flaky fnow defcends. The tops of the hills
are white. The ftormy winds abate. Va-
rious is the night and cold ; receive me, my
friends, from night.
Fourth Bard.
Night is calm and fair; blue, flarry,
fettled is night. The winds, with the
clouds, are gone. They fink behind the
hill. The moon is up on the mountain.
Trees giifter : ftreams fhine on the rock.
Bright rolls the fettled lake j bright the
ftream of the vale.
I fee the trees overturned j the fhocks
of corn on the plain. The wakeful hind
rebuilds the fliocks, and whiilles on the
diftant field.
Calm, fettled, fair is night!— Who
comes from the place of the dead ? That
form with the robe of fnow ; white arm*
and dark- brown hair ! It is the daughter of
the chief of the people ; (lie that lately fell I
Come, let us view thee, O maid ! thou
that haft been the delight of heroes ! The
blaft drives the phantom away; white,
without form, it afcends the hill.
The breezes drive the blue mitt, flowly
over the narrow vale. It rifes on the hill,
and joins its head to heaven — Night ij
fettled, calm, blue, ftarry, bright with the
moon. Receive me not, my friends, for
lovely is the night.
Fifth Bard.
Night is calm, but dreary. The moon is
in a cloud in the weft. Slow moves that
pale beam along the fliaded hill. The di-
ftant wave is heard. The torrent murmurs
on the rock. The cock is heard from the
booth. More than half the night is paft.
The houfe- wife, groping in the gloom, re-
kindles the fettled fire. The hunter thinks
that day approaches, and calls his bound-
ing dogs. He aftends the hill and whiftles
on
R
O
M
256 C
wither awav, by degrees, and the fame of their youth begins to be
forgot. They fall in fecret ; the figh of their fon is not heard. Joy
is around their tomb ; and the ftone of their fame is placed with-
out a tear. Happy are they who die in youth, when their renown
is around them !
on his way. A blaft removes the cloud.
He fees the flarry plough of the north.
Aluch of the night is to pafs. He nods
by the mofly rock.
Hark ! the whirlwind is in the wood ! A
low murmur in the vale ! It is the mighty
army of the dead returning from the air.
The moon refls behind the hill. The
beam is ftill on that lofty rock. Long are
the (Ladows of the trees. Now it is dark
over all. Night is dreary, filent, and dark ;
receive me, my friends, from night.
The Chief.
Let clouds reft on the hills : fpirits fly
and travellers fear. Let the winds of the
woods arife, the founding ftorms defcend.
Roar ftrcams and windows flap, and green
winged meteors fly ; rife the pale moon
from behind her hills, or inclofe her head
in clouds ; night is alike to me, blue, ftor-
my, or gloomy the (ky. Night flies before
the beam, when it is poured on the hill.
The young day returns from his clouds but
we return no more.
VVhere are our chiefs of old ? Where our
kings of mighty name ? The fields of their
battles are filent. Scarce their moffy tombs
remain. We fhall alfo be forgot. This lofty
houfe fhall fall. Our fons fhall not behold
the ruins ingrafs. They fhall afk of the aged,
" Where flood the walls of our fathers ?"
R.iife the fong, and ftrike the harp ; fend
round the (hells of joy. Sufpend a hundred
tapers on high. Youths and maids begin
the dance. Let fome gray bard be near me
to tell the deeds of other times ; of kings
renowned in our land, of chiefs we behold
no more. Thus let the night pafs until
morning (hall appear in our halls. Then
let the bow be at hand, the dogs, the
youths of the chace. We (hall afcend the
hill with day ; and awake the deer.
BERRATHOX
( 257 )
BERRATHON:
O E M*.
BEND thy blue courfe, O ftream, round the narrow plain of
Lutha -f-. Let the green woods hang over it from their moun-
tains : and the fun look on it at noon. The thiflle is there on its
rock, and fuakes its beard to the wind. The flower hangs its heavy
head, waving, at times, to the gale. Why doft thou awake me, O gale,
it feems to fay, I am covered with the drops of heaven .? The time
of
* This poem is reputed to have been
compofed by OiHan, a little time before his
death ; and confequently it is known in
tradition by no other name than Ojjian's
loji hpnn. The tranflator has taken the
liberty to call it Berrathon, from the epifode
concerning the re-eftablifliment of Larth-
nior king of that ifland, after he had been
dethroned by his own fon Uthal. Fingal
in his voyage to Lochlin [ Fing. B. III. J
v^hither he had been invited by Starno the
fatherof Agandecca, fo often mentioned in
Oilman's poems, touched at Berratlion, an
ifijnd of Scandinavia, where he was kindly
entertained by Larthmor the petty king of
the place, who was a vafial of the fupreme
kings of Lochlin. The hofpitality of Larth-
mor gained him Fingal's frienciflrp, which
L
that hero manifefted, after the imprifonmenc
of Larthmor by his own fon, by fending
OfTmn and Tofcar, the father of Malvina fo
often mentioned, to refcue Larthmor, and
to punifh the unnatural behaviour of Uthal.
Uihal was handfome to a proverb, and
confequently much admired by the ladies.
Nina-thoma the beautiful daughter of Tor^*
thoma, a neighbouring prince, fell in love
and fled with him. He proved unconftant ;
for another lady, whofe name is not men-
tioned, gaining his affeSians, he confined
Nina-thoma to a defart ifland near the coaft
of BerraiXion. She was relieved by Oflian,
who, in company with Tofcar, landing
on Berrathon, defeated the forces of Uthal,
and killed him in a fingle combat. Nina-
thoma, whofe love not all the bad behaviour
1 of
258
BERRATHON
of my fading is near, and the bkft that fliall fcatter my leaves. To-
morrow fliall the traveller come, he that faw me in my beauty fliall
come i his eyes will fearch the field, but they v/ill not find me ? —
So fliall they fearch in vain, for the voice of Cona, after it has failed
in the field. The hunter fliall come forth in the morning, and the
voice of my harp fliall not be heard. " Where is the fon of car-
borne Fingal ?" The tear will be on his cheek.
Then come thou, O Alalvlna J, with all thy mufic, come; lay
Oflian in the plain of Lutha : let his tomb rife in the lovely field. —
Malvlna ! where art thou, with thy fongs : with the foft found of
thy fteps ? — Son || of Alpin art thou near ? where is the daughter
of Tofcar ?
. I PASSED, O fon of Fingal, by Tar-lutha's mcfly walls. The
fmoke of the hall was ceafed : filence was among the trees of the
ofUthal could erafe, hearing of his death,
died of grief. In the mean time Larthmor
is reftored, and Oflian and Tofcar returned
in triumph to Fingal.
The prefent poem opens with an elegy
on the death of Malvina the daughter of
Tofcar, and clofes with prefages of the
poet's death. It is alnioft altogether in a
lyric meafure, and has that melancholy air
which diflinguiflies the remains of the
works of Oflian. If ever he compofed any
thing of a merry turn it is long fince lofl.
The ferious and melancholy make the moft
Jafting impreflions on the human mind,
and bid fairefl for being tranfmitted from
generation to generation by tradition. Nor
is it pro))able that Oflian dealt much in
chearful compofition. Melanciioly is fo
much the companion of a great genius.
that it is difiicult to feparate the idea of
levity from cliearfuinefs, which is fome-
times the mark of an amiable difp ofition,
but never the charaiSleri.'lic of ehvated
parts.
■f Lutha, f'jLiftJlream. It is impoflible,
at this diftance of time, to afcertaiii where
the fceiie here defcribed lies. Tradition
is filent on that head, and there is nothing
in the poem from which a conjedlure can
be drawn.
J Mai mhina, yi/> or bve'y bnw. K'lh
in the Cilic language has the fame found
with V in Engiifh.
II Tradition has not handed down the
name of this fon cf Alpin. His father was
one of Fingal's principal bards, and he
appears himfelf to have had a poetical ge-
nius,
hiU.
A POEM. 259
hill. The voice of the chace was over. I faw the daughters of the
bow. I aiked about Malvina, but they anfwered not. They turned
their faces away : thin darknefs covered their beauty. They were
like liars, on a rainy hill, by night, each looking faintly through
lier rnift..
Pleasant * be thy reft, O lovely beam ! foon hafl thou fet on
our hills ! The fleps of thy departure v/ere ftately, like the moon on
the blue, trembling wave. But thou haft left us in darknefs, firft
of the maids of Lutha ! We fit, at the rock, and there is no voice j
no light but the meteor of fire ! Soon haft thou fet, Malvina, daugh-
ter of generous Tofcar !
But thou rifeft like the beam of the eaft, among the fpirlts of
thy friends, where they fit in their ftormy halls, the chambers of the
thunder. A cloud hovers over Cona : its blue curling fides are
high. The winds are beneath it, with their wings ; within it is
the dwelling -f- of Fingal. There the hero fits in darknefs j his airy
fpear is in his hand. His fliield half covered with clouds, is hke
the darkened moon ; when one half ftill remains in the wave, and
the other looks fickly on the field.
H16 friends fit around the king, on mift ; and hear the fongs of
Ullin : he ftrikes the half-viewlefs harp j and raifes the feebje voice.
The lefler heroes, with a thoufand meteors, light the airy hall.
* Oflian fpeaks. He calls Malvina a to purfue, after death, the pleafures and
beam of light, and continues the metaphor employments of their former life. The
throughout the paragraph. fituation of Offian's heroes, in their fepa-
f The defcription of this ideal palace of rate ftatc, if not entirely happy, is more
Fingal is very poetical, and agreeable to agreeable, than the notions of the antient
the notions ofthofe time?, concerning the Greeks concerning their departed heroes,
ftate of the deceafcd, who were fuppofed Sec Horn. OdyfT. 1. 11.
L I 2 Malvina
26o BERRATHON:
Malvina rife?, in the midft ; a blufli is on her cheek. She beholds
the unknown faces of her fathers, and turns afide her humid eyes.
Ar t thcu come fo foon, faid Fingal, daughter of generous Tof-
car ? Sadnefs dwells in the halls of Lutha. My aged fon * is fad. I
hear the breeze of Cona, that was wont to lift thy heavy locks. It
comes to the hall, but thou art not there ; its voice is mournful
■among the arms of thy fathers. Go with thy ruftling wing, O
breeze ! and figh on Malvina's tomb. It rifes yonder beneath the
rock, at the blue flream of Lutha. The maids -j- are departed to
their place; and thou alone, O breeze, mourneft there.
But who comes from the dufky weft, fupported on a cloud ? A
fmile is on his gray, watry face ; his locks of mifl fly on the wind :
he bends forward on his airy fpear : it is thy father, Malvina ! Why
fhinefl: thou, fo foon, on our clouds, he fays, O lovely light of Lu-
tha ! — But thou wert fad, my daughter, for thy friends were pafled
away. The Tons of little men ;{; were in the hall ; and none remained
of the heroes, but Offian king of fpears.
And dofl: thou remember Offian, car-borne Tofcar 1| fon of Con-
loch .'' The battles of our youth were many ; our fwords went to-
gether to the field. They faw us coming like two falling rocks -,
*Ofnan; who had a great friendfhip the north, immediately after the death of
for Malvina, both on account of her love Fingal and all his heroes ; but it appears
for his fon Ofcar, and her attention to his from that term of ignominy juft mentioned,
own poems. that the aiflions of their fucceflbrs were
f Thit is, the young virgins who fung not to be compared to thofe of therenown-
UiC funeral elegy over her tomb. ed Fingalians.
X Offian, by way of difrefpe^l, calls thofc, || Tofcar was the fon of that Conloch,
uho fuccceded the heroes whofc a£lions he who was. alfo father to the lady, whofe un-
C'Achvnt?, the fom of little wen. Tradition fortunate death is related in the laft epi-
is entirely filcnt couce.'-ning what paflcd in fodc of the fecond book of Fingal.
3 and
A P O E M. 261
and the fons of the Granger fled. There come the warriors of Co-
iia, they faid ; their fteps are in the paths of the vanquifhed.
Draw near, fon of Alpin, to the fong of the aged. The anions
of other times are in my foul : my memory beams on the days that
are part. On the days of the mighty Tofcar, when our path was in
the deep. Draw near, fon of Alpin, to the laft found * of the voice
of Cona.
. The king of Morven commanded, and I raifed my fails to the
wind. Tofcar chief of Lutha flood at my fide, as I rofe on the
dark-blue wave. Our courfe was to fea-furrounded Berrathon -j-,
the ifle of many ftorms. There dwelt, with his locks of age, the
ftately ftrength of Larthmor. Larthmor who fpread the feaft of
fhells to Comhal's mighty fon, when he went to Starno's halls, in
the days of Agandecca. But when the chief was old, the pride of
his fon arofe, the pride of fair-haired Uthal, the love of a thoufand
maids. He bound the aged Larthmor, and dwelt in his founding
halls.
Long pined the king in his cave, befide his rolling fea. Day did
not come to his dwelling ; nor the burning oak by night. But the
wind of ocean was there, and the parting beam of the moon. The
red ftar looked on the king, when it trembled on the weftern wave.
Snitlio came to Selma's hall : Snitho companion of Larthmor 's
youth. He told of the king of Berrathon : the wrath of Fingal
rofe. Thrice he aflumed the fpear, refolved to flretch his hand to
* OiTian feems to intimate by this ex- f Barrathon, a promontory in the midjl
preflion, that this poem was the laft of his of u:avcs. The poet gives it the epithet of
compofition ; fo that there is fome found a- fea- I'ui rounded, to prevent its being taken
tton for the traditional title of the lajl hymn for a peninfula in the literal fenfe.
Uthal.
262 B E R R A T H O N:
I'thal. But the mcmor)' * of his adlions rofe before the king, and
he Tent his fon and Tofcar. Our joy was great on the rolling feaj
and wc often half-unflieathed our fwords -f-. For never before had
t\-e fought alone, in the battles of the fpear. Night came down on
the oce.ui ; the wiTids departed on their wings. Cold and pale is
the moon. The red ftars lift their heads. Our courfe is flow
idong the coafl of Berratlion ; the white waves tumble on the rocks.
What voice is that, faid Tofcar, which comes between the
founds of the waves ? Il is foft but mournful, like the voice of de«
parted bards. But I behold the maid J, fiie fits on the rock alone.
Her head bends on her arm of fnow : her dark hair is in the wind.
Hear, fon of Fingal, her fong, it is fmooth as the gliding waters of
Lavath. — We came to the filent bay, and heard the maid of night.
How long will ye roll around me, blue-tumbling waters of ocean ?
My dwelling was not always in caves, nor beneath the whiftling
tree. The feaft was fpread in Torthoma's hall ; my father delight-
ed in my voice. The youths beheld me in the fleps of my loveli-
nefs, and they bleffed the dark-haired Nina-thoma. It was then
thou didit come, O Uthal ! like the fun of heaven. The fouls of
* The meaning of the poet if, that Fin- remarkable; and his humanity to Nina-
gal remembered his own great adlions, thoma would grace a hero of our own po-
and confequently would not fully them by lifhed age. Though Offian pafies over
engaging in a petty war againft Uthal, his own a<nions in filence, or flightly men-
who was fo far lus inferior in valour and tions them ; tradition has done ample ju-
power. flice to his martial fame, and perhaps has
+ The impatience of a young warrior, exaggerated the anions ot the poet beyond
going on their firft expedition, is well the bounds of credibility,
marked by their half-drawing their fwords. t Nina-thoma the daughter of Tor-
The modefl) of Offian, in his narration of thoma, who had been confined to a defart
a Ilory which does him fo much honour, is ifland by her lover Uthal.
the
A P O E M. 263
the virgins are thine, fon of generous Larthmor ! But why doH: thou
leave me alone in the midft of roaring waters. Was my foul dark
with thy death ? Did my white hand lift the fword ? Why then
haft thou left me alone, king of high Finthormo * !
The tear ftarted from my eye, when I heard the voice of the maid.
I ftood before her in my arms, and fpoke the words of peace.
Lovely dweller of the cave, what figh is in that breaft ? Shall Offian
lift his fword in thy prefence, the deftrudion of thy foes ? — Daugh-
ter of Torthoma, rife, I have heard the words of thy grief. The
race of Morven are around thee, who never Injured the weak. Come
to our dark-bofomed fhip, thou brighter than that fetting moon.
Our courfe is to the rocky Berrathon, to the ecchoing walls of
Finthormo. 'She came in her beauty, fhe came with all her
lovely fteps. Silent joy brightened in her face, as when the flia-
dows fly from the field of fpring ; the blue-ftream is rolling in
brightnefs, and the green bufh bends over its courfe.
The morning rofe with its beams. We came to Rothma's
bay. A boar rufhed from the wood j my fpear pierced his lide. I
rejoiced over the blood y, and forefaw my growing fame. But
now the found of Uthal's train came from the high FIn-thormo ;
they Ipread over the heath to the chace of the boar. Himfelf comes
flowly on, in the pride of his ftrength. He lifts two pointed Ipears.
On his fide is the hero's fword. Three youths carry his polif]aed
* Finthormo, the palace of Uthal, The omen of his fjture fuccefs in that ifland.
names in this epifode are not of a Celtic The prefent highlanders look, with a de-
oriwinal ; which m;.kes it probable that gree of fuperftition, upon the fuccefs of
Offian founds his poem on a true flory. their firft aflion, after they have engaged
+ Offian thought that his killing the boar, in any dcfperate undertaking,
»n his firft landing in Berrathon, was a gooti
° bows :
264 B E R R A T H O N:
bows : the bounding of five dogs is before him. His heroes move
on, at a diftance, admiring the fleps of the king. Stately was the
fon of Larthmor ! but his foul was dark. Dark as the troubled face
of the moon, when it foretels the ftorms.
We rofe on the heath before the king ; he flopt in the midfl: of
his courfe. His heroes gathered around, and a gray-haired bard ad-
vanced. Whence are the fons of the ftrangers ! begun the bard of the
fong ; the children of the unhappy come to Berrathon ; to the fword
of car-borne Uthal. He fpreads no feafl: in his hall : the blood of
ftrangers is on his ftreams. If from Selma's walls ye come, from
the mofly walls of Fingal, chufc three youths to go to your king to
tell of the fall of his people. Perhaps the hero may come and
pour his blood on Uthal's fword -, fo fliall the fame of Finthormo
arife, like the growing tree of the vale.
Never will it rife, O bard, I iaid in the pride of my wrath. He
would flirink in the prefence of Fingal, whofe eyes are the flames
of death. .The fon of Comhal comes, and the kings vanifli in his
-prefence ; they are rolled together, like mill:, by the breath of his
rage. Shall three tell to Fingal, that his people fell? Yes ! — they
may tell it, bard ! but his people fliall fall with fame.
I STOOD in the darknefs of my ftrength ; Tofcar drew his fword
at my fide. The foe came on like a ftream : the mingled found of
death arofe. Man took man, fliield met fhield ; fteel mixed its beams
with fteel. — Darts hifs through air; fpears ring on mails; and
fwords on broken bucklers bound. As the noife of an aged grove
beneath the roaring wind, when a thoufand ghofts break the trees
by night, fuch was the din of arms. But Utlial fell beneatli my
fword J and the fons of Berratlion fled. — It was then I faw him in
his
A POEM. 265
his beauty, and the tear hung in my eye. Thou art fallen *, young
tree, I faid, with all thy beauty round thee. Thou art fallen on
thy plains, and the field is bare. The winds come from the delart,
and there is no found in thy leaves ! Lovely art thou in death, fon
of car-borne Larthmor.
NiNA-THOMA fat on the fliore, and heard the found of battle.
She turned her red eyes on Lethmal the gray-haired bard of Sehna,
for he had remained on the coaft, with the daughter of Torthoma.
Son of the times of old ! fhe faid, I hear the noife of death.
Thy friends have met with Uthal and the chief is low ! O that I
had remained on the rock, inclofed with the tumbling waves ! Then
would my foul be fad, but his death would not reach my ear. Art
thou fallen on thy heath, O fnn of high Finthormo! thou didll: leave
me on a rock, but my foul was full of thee. Son of high Fiutliormo !
art thou fallen on thy heath ?
She rofe pale in her tears, and faw the bloody fhield of Uthal ;
fhe faw it in Offian's hand ; her fteps were diilraiSed on the heath.
She flew ; fhe found him ; fhe fell. Her Ibul came forth in a figh.
Her hair is fpread on his face. My burfling tears defcend. A tomb
arofe on the unhappy; and my fong was heard.
* To mourn over the fall of their enemies imitations of his beauties. Homer, it is
was a pradlice univerfal among Offian's probable, gave the manners of the times
heroes. This is more agreeable to huma- in which he wrote, not his own fenti-
nity, than the fhameful infulting of the ments : Oflian alio feems to keep to the
dead, fo common in Homer, and after fentiments of his heroes. The reverence,
him, fervilely copied by all his imitators, which the moft barbarous highlanders have
the humane Virgil not excepted, who have ftill for the remains of the deceafed, feems
been more Pjccefsful in borrowing the im- to have defcended to them from their moft
perfedlions of that great poet, than in their remote anceftors.
Mm Rest,
266 B E R R A T 11 O N:
RESTjhaplels children of youth! and the noife of that mofly ftream.
The virgins will fee your tomb, at the chace, aiid turn away their
weeping eyes. Your fame will be in the fong ; the voice of the
harp will be heard in your praife. The daughters of Selma fhall
hear it ; and your renown fliall be in other lands. — Reft, children
of youth, at the noife of the moffy ftream.
Two days we remained on the coaft. The heroes of Berrathon
convened. We brought Larthmor to his halls ; the feaft of ftiells
is fpread. — The joy of the aged was great ; he looked to the arms
of his fathers ; the arms which he left in his hall, when the pride
of Uthal arofe We were renowned before Larthmor, and he
blefled the chiefs of Morven j but he knew not that his fon was low,
the ftately ftrength of Uthal. They had t-nlH, thnt he had retired to
the woods, with the tears of grief; they had told it, but he was
filent in the tomb of Rothma's heath.
On the fourth day we raifed our fails to the roar of the northern
wind. Larthmor came to the coaft, and his bards raifed the fong.
The joy of the king was great, he looked to Rothma's gloomy
heath ; he faw the tomb of his fon ; and the memory of Uthal rofe.
. Who of my heroes, he faid, lies there : he feems to have been
of the kings of fpears ? Was he renowned in my halls, before the
pride of Uthal rofe ?
Ye are filent, ye fons of Berrathon, is the king of heroes low r —
My heart melts for thee, O Uthal ; though thy hand was againft
thy father. O that I had remained in the cave ! that my fon
had dwelt in Finthormo ! 1 might have heard the tread of his
feet, when he went to the chace of the boar. — I mi^ht have heard
1 his
A P O E M. 267
his voice on the blaft of my cave. Then would my foul be glad ;
but now darknefs dwells in my halls.
Such were my deeds, fon of Alpin, when the arm of my youth
was ftrong j fuch were * the adlions of Tofcar, the car-borne fon of
Conloch. But Tofcar is on his flying cloud j and I am alone at Lutha ;
my voice is like the lalt found of the wind, when it forfakes the
woods. But Oflian fliall not be long alone, he fees the mJft that
fliall receive his ghofl. He beholds the mift that flaall form his
robe, when he appears on his hills. The fons of little men fliall
behold me, and admire the ftature of the chiefs of old. They fhall
creep to their caves, and look to the fky with fear ; for my fleps
fliall be in the clouds, and darknefs fliall roll on my fide.
Lead, fon of Alpin, lend the aged to his woods. The winds
begin to rife. The dark wave of the lake refounds. Bends there
not a tree from Mora with its branches bare ? It bends, fon of
Alp'm, in the ruflling blaft. My harp hangs on a blafted branch.
The found of its ftrings is mournful. Does the wind touch thee,
O harp, or is it fome pafTing ghoft ! It is the hand of Malvina !
but bring me the harp, fon of Alpin ; another fong fliall rife. My
foul fliall depart in the found ; my fathers fliall hear it in their airy
hall. — Their dim faces fliall hang, with joy, from their clouds;
and their hands receive their fon.
■f The aged oak bends over the ftream. It fighs with all its mofs.
The withered fern whiftles near, and mixes, as it v/aves, with
Oflian's hair. Strike the harp and raife the fong : be near, with
* Offian fpeaks. his poems.— It is fet to mufic, and flill
t Here begins the lyric piece, with fung in the north, with a great deal of
which, tradition fays, OlTian concluded wild fimplicity, but little variety of found.
Mm 2 all
268 BERRATIIO N:
all your wings, ye winds. Bear the mournful found away to FingaFs
airy hcill. Bear it to Fingal's hall, that he may hear the voice of
his fon ; the voice of him that praifed the mighty. — The blaft of
north opens thy gates, O king, and I behold thee fitting on mift,
dimly gleaming in all tliine arms. Thy form now is not the terror
of the valiant : but like a watery cloud ; when we fee the ftars be-
hind it with their weeping eyes. Thy rhleld is like the aged moon r
thy fword a vapour half-kindled with lire. Dim and feeble is the
chief, who travelled in brightnefs before. —
But thy fteps -f- are on the winds of the defart, and the ftorms-
darken in thy hand. Thou takeft the fun in thy wrath, and hidefi:
him in thy clouds. The fons of little men are afraid ; and a thou-
fand fhowers defcend, —
But when thou comefl forth in thy mildnefs ; the gale of the
morning is near thy courfe. The fun laughs in his blue fields j and
the gray ftream winds in its valley. The bullies fhake their green
heads in the wind. The roes bound towards the, defart.
t This magnificent defcription of the It was the immoderate praife beftowed
power of Fingal over the winds and by the poets on their departed friends, that
ftorms, and the image of his taking the gave the firft hint to fuperftition to deify
fun, and hiding him in the clouds, do not the deceafed heroes ; and thofe new divi-
correfpond wich the preceding paragraph, pities owed all their attributes to the fancy
where he is reprefented as a feeble ghoft, of the bard who fung their elegies.
and no more the terror of the va- We do not find, that the praifes of Fin-
LiANT ; but it agrees with the notion of gal had this eiFeiS upon his countrymen ;
the times concerning the fouls of the de- but that is to be imputed to the idea they
ceafed, who, it was fuppofed, had the had of power, which they always con-
command of the winds and ftorm?, but neded with bodily ftrength and perfonal
took no concern in the affairs of men. valour, both which were diiTolved bydeath.
2 BVT
A P O E M. 269
But there is a murmur in the heath ! the ftormy whids abate !
I hear the voice of Fingal. Long has it been abfent from mine
ear ! -Come, Offian, come away, he fays : Fingal lias received
his fan>e. We pafled away, like flames that had fhone for a feafon,
aur departure was in renown. Thougli the plains of our battles are
dark and lilent; our fame is in the four gray fl;ones. The voice of
Offian has been heard; and the harp was ftrung in Seima. — Come
Offian, come away, he fays, and fly with thy fathers on clouds.
And come I will, thou king of men ! the life of Oilian fails.
I begin to vanifli on Cona; and my fleps are not feen in Selma.
Befide the ftone of Mora I rtiall fall afleep. The winds whiftling in
my grey hair, fliall not waken me. Depart on thy wings, O
wind : thou canft not dilliurb the reft of the bard. The night is
long, but his eyes are heavy ; depart, thou ruftling blaft.
But why art thou fad, fon of Fingal ? Why grows the cloud of
thy foul ? The chiefs of other times are departed ; they have gone
without their fame. The fons of future years fhall pafs away ; and
another race arife. The people are like the waves of ocean : like
the leaves J of woody Morven, they pafs away in the ruftling blaft,
and other leaves lift their green heads. —
Did
I The fame thought may be found al- beautiful image of the wind flrewing the
mofl in the fame words, in Homer, vi. 46. withered leaves on the ground.
O'tri TTifipjXXuti yinr], roinSi V-xi dvSfUv.
Like leaves on trees the race of men are
found.
. „,« Now green in youth, now with nn^ on the
61 -i \j\n ,- °
V ^' ' ' ( ground ;
TrAi9oa;<r« ?..£. £«p« S iir^y^yvtrxi «p«. ^^^^^er race the following fprin<r fupplies ;
Mr. Pope falls (hort of his original ; in They fall fucceffive, and fucccjEve rife.
particular he has omitted aid .ether the Pope.
Ryno,
270
B E R R A T H O N.
Did thy beauty hA, O Pvyno * r Stood the rlrength of car-borne
Ofcar ? Fingal himfelf pafied av/ay ; and the halls of his fathers
forgot his fteps. And flialt thou remain, aged bard ! when the
mighty have failed ? But my fame (hall remain, and grow like
the oak of Morven ; which lifts its broad head to the florm, and
rejoices in the courfe of the wind.
* Ryno, tlic fon of Fingal, who wa? kill-
in Irclanc], in the war agaitift Swaran,
[Fing. b. c.] was remarkable for the beau-
tv of his perfon, his fwiftnefs and great
exploits. IViinvane, the daughter of Mor-
ni, and fifter to Gau! fo often mentioned
in Offian's compofitions, was in love with
Ryno. — Her lamentation over her lover is
introduced as an epifode in one of Offian's
great poems. The lamentation is the only
part of the poem now extant, and as it
has fome poetical merit, I have fubjoined
it to this note. The poet reprefents Min-
vane as feeing, from one of the rocks of
Morven, the fleet of Fingal returning from
Ireland.
CHE biufliing fad, from Morven's rocks,
bends over the darkly-rolling fea. She
faw the youths in all their arms. — Where,
Ryno, where art thou ?
Our dark looks told that he was low !
—That pale the hero flew on clouds !
That in the grafs of Morven's hills, his
feeble voice was heard in wind !
And is the fon of Fingal fallen, on Ul-
ufl;
long mix with your flream ; for I
fleep with Ryno.
I fee thee not with beauty's fleps return-
ing from the chace. — The night is round
Minvane's love ; and filence dwells with
Ryno.
Where are thy dogs, and where thy
bow.' Thy fliielJ that was fo ftrong ?
Thy fword like heaven's defcending fire ?
The bloody fpear of Ryno .?
I fee them mixed in thy fhip ; I fee them
flained with blood. — No arms are in thy
narrow hall, O darkly-dwelling Ryno!
When will the morning come, and far,
arife, thou king of fpears ! arife, the hun-
ters are abroad. The hinds are near thee,
Ryno !
Away, thou fair-haired morning, away !
the numbering king hears thee not ! The
hinds bound over his narrow tomb j for
death dwells round young Ryno.
But I will tread foftly, my king ! and
fleal to the bed of thy repofe. Minvane
will lie in filence, near her flumbering
Ryno.
The maids fliall fcek me ; but they fliall
lin's niofiy plains ? Strong was the arm that not find me : they fliall follow my depar-
conquered him I — Ah me ! I am alone. tare with fongs. But I will not hear
Alone I will not be, ye winds ! that lift you, O maids : I fleep with fair-haired
my dark-brown hair. My fighs will not Ryno.
I N I
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