hear his voice. A beam of joy will rise in my soul."

Night would have descended in sorrow, and morning returned in the shadow of grief. Our chiefs would have stood, like cold dropping rocks on Moi-lena *4, and have forgot the war; did not the king disperse his grief, and raise his mighty voice. The chiefs, as new-waked from dreams, lift up their heads around 25.

"How long on Moi-lena shall we weep? How long pour in Erin our tears? The mighty will not return. Oscar shall not rise in his strength. The valiant must fall in their day, and be no more known on their hills. Where are our fathers, O warriors! the chiefs of the times of old?

24 Like cold dropping rocks on Moilena.] DRYDEN's Virgil, Georg. ii. 259.

Such as in cheerful vales we view from high,

Which dripping rocks with rowling streams supply,
And feed with ooze.

The original of oozy rocks, which occur so frequently.

25 And raise his mighty voice. The chiefs, as new-wakęd from dreams, lift up their heads around.] DRYDEN's Ode on St Cecilia's Day.

VOL. II.

Hark, hark! the horrid sound

Has raised up his head,

As awaked from the dead,

And amazed, he stares around.

C

They have set like stars that have shone. We
only hear the sound of their praise. But they
were renowned in their years; the terror of other
times. Thus shall we pass away; in the day of
our fall. Then let us be renowned when we
may; and leave our fame behind us, like the last
beams of the sun, when he hides his red head in
the west. The traveller mourns his absence,
thinking of the flame of his beams 26.
Ullin, my
aged bard! take thou the ship of the king. Car-
ry Oscar to Selma of harps. Let the daughters
of Morven weep. We must fight in Erin, for the
race of fallen Cormac. The days of my years
begin to fail. I feel the weakness of my arm.
My fathers bend from their clouds, to receive
their grey-haired son. But before I go hence,
one beam of fame shall rise.
as my years begun, in fame.

My days shall end,

one stream of light to bards of

Ullin raised his white sails.

My life shall be other times!"

The wind of the

south came forth. He bounded on the waves to

ward Selma. I remained in my
I remained in my grief, but my
words were not heard. The feast is spread on

26 The traveller mourns his absence, thinking of the flame of his beams.] First inserted in the improved edition 1773.

Moi-lena. An hundred heroes reared the tomb of Cairbar. No song is raised over the chief. His soul had been dark and bloody. The bards remembered the fall of Cormac! what could they say in Cairbar's praise?

Night came rolling down. The light of an hundred oaks arose. Fingal sat beneath a tree *7. Old Althan stood in the midst. He told the tale of fallen Cormac. Althan, the son of Conachar, the friend of car-borne Cuthullin. He dwelt with Cormac in windy Temora, when Semo's son fell at Lego's stream. The tale of Althan was mournful. The tear was in his eye when he spoke.

"The setting sun was yellow on Dora. Grey evening began to descend. Temora's woods shook with the blast of the inconstant wind. A cloud gathered in the west. A red star looked from behind its edge. I stood in the wood alone. I saw a ghost on the darkening air! His stride extended from hill to hill. His shield was dim on his side. It was the son of Semo. I knew

27 Fingal sat beneath a tree.]. In the first book annexed to Fingal, "The chief of Etha sat near the king, the grey-haired strength of Usnoth." See above, 6.

the warrior's face. But he passed away in his blast; and all was dark around! My soul was sad. I went to the hall of shells. A thousand lights arose. The hundred bards had strung the harp. Cormac stood in the midst, like the morning star, when it rejoices on the eastern hill, and its young beams are bathed in showers 28. Bright and silent is its progress aloft, but the cloud, that shall hide it, is near! The sword of Artho was in the hand of the king. He looked with joy on its polished studs: thrice he attempted to draw it, and thrice he failed; his yellow locks are spread on his shoulders: his cheeks

29

28 Cormac stood in the midst, like the morning star, when it rejoices on the eastern hill, and its young beams are bathed in showers.] Eneid, viii. 586. Quoted by Macpherson.

Ipse agmine Pallas

In medio, chlamyde, et pictis conspectus in armis.
Qualis, ubi oceani perfusus Lucifer unda,

Quem Venus ante alios astrorum diligit ignes,

Extulit os sacrum cælo, tenebrasque resolvit.

"When it rejoices on the eastern hills," is from Cowley, as quoted by Gray.

Or seen the morning's well appointed star,

Come marching up the eastern hills afar.

Bright and silent is its progress aloft," is a beautiful addition ; "but the cloud that shall hide it is near," is perhaps a conceit. 29 Arth, or Artho, the father of Cormac, king of Ireland. MACPHERSON.

of youth are red 3o. I mourned over the beam of youth, for he was soon to set!"

"Althan!" he said, with a smile, "didst thou behold my father? Heavy is the sword of the king; surely his arm was strong. O that I were like him in battle, when the rage of his wrath arose! then would I have met, with Cuthullin,

the car-borne son of Cantéla !

But years may

come on, O Althan! and my arm be strong. Hast thou heard of Semo's son, the ruler of high Temora? He might have returned with his fame. He promised to return to-night. My bards wait him with songs. My feast is spread in the hall of kings."

30 The sword of Artho was in the hand of the king---thrice he attempted to draw it, and thrice he failed--his checks of youth are red.] An imitation of the three attempts made by Telemachus to draw his father's bow. POPE's Odyssey, xxi. 129.

Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand,

And grasped the bow, and twanged it in his hand;

Three times, with bated heat, he made essay,

Three times, unequal to the task, gave way ;

A modest boldness on his cheek appeared,

And thrice he hoped, and thrice again he feared,

The fourth had drawn it.

But the bow is preposterously converted into a sword, which young Cormac is unable to draw, not because it was rusty, but because it was heavy; as if the sword, which he could lift and wield, were too heavy to be drawn.