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Far-distant stood the son of Morni, Duthno’s race, and Cona's bard. We stood far-distant; each beneath his tree. We shunned the eyes of the king; we had not conquered in the field. A little stream rolled at my feet: I touched its light wave, with my spear. I touched it with my spear; nor there was the soul of Ossian. It darkly rose, from thought to thought 4, and sent abroad the sigh.
“ Son of Morni,” said the king, “Dermid, hunter of roes ! why are ye dark, like two rocks, each with its trickling waters S? No wrath gathers on Fingal's soul, against the chiefs of men. Ye are my strength in battle ; the kindling of my joy in peace. My early voice has been a plea
+ I touched its light wave with my spear---Nor there was the soul of Ossian. It darkly rose from thought to thought.] “With that inverted spear---which pierced his side.” Night Thoughts. Supra, iii. 4. and vi. 11.
Tumultuous, where my wrecked desponding thought,
At random drove.
5 Why are ye dark like two rocks, each with its trickling waters.] Pope's Iliad, xvi. 5.
Not faster trickling to the plains below,
sant gale to your ears, when Fillan prepared the bow. The son of Fingal is not here, nor yet the chace of the bounding roes. But why should the breakers of shields stand, darkened, far
Tall they strode towards the king : they saw him turned to Mora's wind. His tears came down, for his blue-eyed son, who slept in the cave of streams. But he brightened before them, and spoke to the broad-shielded kings.
Crommal, with woody rocks, and misty top, the field of winds, pours forth, to the sight, blue Lubar's streamy roar.
Behind it rolls clearwinding Lavath, in the still vale of deer. A cave is dark in a rock; above it strong-winged eagles dwell ; broad-headed oaks, before it, sound in Cluna's wind. Within, in his locks of youth,
6 A cave is dark in a rock; above it strong-winged eagles dwell ; broad-headed oaks before it sound in Cluna's wind.} From MACPHERSON's Cave.
Behold it opens to my sight,
Dark in the rock, beside the food ;
The winds above it move the wood.-
is Ferad-artho”, blue-eyed king, the son of broad-shielded Cairbar, from Ullin of the roes. He listens to the voice of Condan, as, grey, he bends in feeble light. He listens ; for his foes
7 Ferad-artho was the son of Cairbar Mac-Cormac king of Ireland He was the only one remaining of the race of Conar, the son of Trenmor, the first Irish monarch according to Ossian. In order to make this passage thoroughly understood, it may not be improper to recapitulate some part of what has been said in preceding notes. Upon the death of Conar, the son of Trenmor, his son Cormac succeeded on the Irish throne. Cormac reigned long. His children were, Cairbar, who succeeded him, and Ros-crána, the first wife of Fingal. Cairbar, long before the death of his father Cormac, had taken to wife Bos-gala, the daughter of Colgar, one of the most powerful chiefs in Connaught, and had by her Artho, afterwards king of Ireland. Soon after Artho arrived at man's estate, his mother Bos-gala died, and Cairbar married Beltanno, the daughter of Conachar of Ullin, who brought him a son, whom he called Ferad-artho, i. e. a man in the place of Artho. The occasion of the name was this. Artho, when his brother was born, was absent, on an expedition, in the south of Ireland. A false report was brought to his father, that he was killed. Cairbar, to use the words of a poem on the subject, darkened for his fair-haired son. He turned to the young beam of light, the son of Beltanno of Conachar. Thou shalt be Ferad-artho, he said, a fire before thy race. Cairbar soon after died, nor did Artho long survive him. Artho was succeeded, in the Irish throne, by his son Cormac, who, in his minority, was murdered by Cairbar, the son of Borbarduthul. Ferad-artho, says tradition, was very young when the expedition of Fingal, to settle him on the throne of Ireland, happened. During the short reign of young Cormac, Ferad
dwell in the echoing halls of Temora. He comes, at times, abroad, in the skirts of mist, to pierce the bounding roes. When the sun looks on the field, nor by the rock, nor stream, is he 8! He
artho lived at the royal residence of Temora. Upon the murder of the king, Condan, the bard, conveyed Ferad-artho privately to the cave of Cluna, behind the mountain Crommal, in Ulster, where they both lived concealed during the usurpation of the family of Atha. A laté bard has delivered the whole his
tory, in a poem just now in my possession. It has little merit, ; if we except the scene between Ferad-artho and the messengers
of Fingal, upon their arrival in the valley of Cluna. After hearing of the great actions of Fingal, the young prince proposes the following questions concerning him, to Gaul and Dermid: “Is the king tall as the rock of my cave? Is his spear a fir of Cluna? Is he a rough-winged blast, on the mountain, which takes the green oak by the head, and tears it from its hill? Glitters Lubar within his stride, when he sends his stately steps along ? Nor is he tall, said Gaul, as that rock : nor glitter streams within his strides; but his soul is a mighty flood, like the strength of Ullin's seas.”
MACPHERSON. The real succession of these Irish kings, is Conn of a hundred battles (Macpherson's Conar), the son of Tuathal Teachtmar; Conair, of a different family; Art, the son of Conn; Cormac Ulfadha, the son of Art, and the father-in-law of Fingal ; Cairbre Liffecair, the son and successor, not the murderer, of Cormac; and the rest are all the translator's invention. See Keating, O'Flaharty, MacCurtin, &c.
8 When the sun looks on the field, nor by the rock, nor stream, is he] Gray's Elegy.
One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,
shuns the race of Bolga, who dwell in his father's hall. Tell him, that Fingal lifts the spear, and that his foes, perhaps, may fail. .
“Lift up, O Gaul, the shield before him. Stretch, Dermid, Temora's spear. Be thy voice in his ear, O Carril, with the deeds of his fathers. Lead him to green Moi-lena, to the dusky field of ghosts; for there, I fall forward, in battle, in the folds of war. Before dun night descends, come to high Dunmora's top. Look, from the grey skirts of mist, on Lena of the streams. If there my standard shall float on wind, over Lubar's gleaming stream, then has not Fingal failed in the last of his fields."
Such were his words; nor aught replied the silent striding kings. They looked, side-long, on Erin's host, and darkened, as they went. Never before had they left the king, in the midst of the stormy field. Behind them, touching at times his harp, the grey-haired Carril moved. He foresaw the fall of the people, and mournful was the sound! It was like a breeze that comes,
Another came; nor yet beside the rill,