come, thou king of men! The life of Offian fails. I begin to vanish on Cona. My fteps are not feen in Selma. Befide the ftone of Mora I fhall fall afleep. The winds whistling in my grey hair, shall not awaken me. Depart on thy wings, O wind! thou canst not disturb the rest of the bard. The night is long, but his eyes are heavy. Depart, thou rustling blast.' The "But why art thou fad, fon of Fingal ? Why grows the cloud of thy foul? chiefs of other times are departed. have gone without their fame. They The fons of future years shall pass away. Another race fhall arife. The people are like the waves of ocean: like the leaves of woody Morven, they pafs away in the rustling blaft, and other leaves lift their green heads on high.' Did thy beauty laft, O Ryno *? the ftrength of car-borne Ofcar? Stood Fingal himself Ryno, the fon of Fingal, who was killed in Ireland, in the war against Swaran, was remarkable for the beauty of his perfon, his fwiftnefs, and great exploits. Minvâne, the daughter of Morni, and fifter to Gaul, was in love with Ryno. Her lamentation over her lover follows. HE blufhing fad, from Morven's rocks, bends over SHE the darkly-rolling fea. She fees the youth in all their arms. Where, Ryno, where art thou? Our 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 Ullin's moffy plains Strong was the arm that vanquished him! Ah me! I am alone! Alone I shall not be, ye winds! that lift my darkbrown hair. My fighs fhall not long mix with your stream; for I must fleep with Ryno. I fee thee not, with beauty's fteps, returning from the chase. The night is round Minvâne's love. Dark filence dwells with Ryno. Where are thy dogs, and where thy bow? Thy fhield that was fo ftrong? Thy fword like heaven's defcending fire? The bloody fpear of Ryno? I see them mixed in thy deep fhip; I see them stained with blood. No arms are in thy narrow hall, O darkly-dwelling Ryno? When will the morning come, and fay, "Arife, thou king of fpears! arife, the hunters are abroad. The hinds are near thee, Ryno!” Away, thou fair-haired morning, away! the flumbering king hears thee not! The hinds bound over his narrow tomb; for death dwells round young Ryno. But I will tread foftly, my king! and steal to the bed of thy repose. Minvâne will lie in filence, nor disturb the lumbering Ryno. The maids fhall feek me; but they fhall not find me: they fhall follow my departure with fongs. But I fhall not hear you, O maids! I fleep with fairhaired Ryno. VOL. II. P failed? |