T "WILT thou not yield the fpear?" replied the rifing pride of Cairbar. "Are thy words fo mighty, because Fingal is near? Fingal with aged locks, from Morven's hundred groves! He has fought with little men, But he must དྷ་ས༠ vanish before Cairbar, like a thin pillar of mist before the winds of Atha!" "Were he who before fought with little men, near Atha's haughty chief: Atha's chief would yield green Erin to avoid his rage! Speak not of the mighty, O Cairbar! Turn thy fword on me. Our ftrength is equal but Fingal is renowned! the first of འུ་༡༥༡༢༠༨ mortal men!" THEIR people faw the darkening chiefs. Their crowding fteps are heard around. Their eyes roll in fire. A thoufand fwords are half unanor a RO theathed Red-haired Olla raifed the fong of battle. The trembling joy of Ofcar's foul arose : the wonted joy of his foul when Fingal's horn was heard. Dark as the fwelling wave of ocean Before the rifing winds, when it bends its hea near the coaft, came on the hoft of Cairbar! DAUGHTER of Tofcar ! why that tear? He is not fallen yet. Many were the deaths of his arm before my hero fell 1. Atha, allow river: the name of Cairbar's feat in Con naught. gnob svad vod; ↑ Malvina, the daughter of Tofcar, to whom is addreffed part of the poem which related to the death of Oscar her lover, BEHOLD BEHOLD they fall before my fon, like groves in the defart; when an angry ghoft rushes through night, and takes their green heads in his hand! Morlath falls. Maronnan dies. Conachar trembles in his blood! Cairbar fhrinks before Ofcar's sword! He creeps in darkness behind a ftone. He lifts the fpear in fecret; he pierces my Ofcar's fide! He falls forward on his fhield his knee fuftains the chief. But ftill his fpear is in his hand. See gloomy Cairbar falls! The fteel pierced his forehead, and divided + The Irish historians place the death of Cairbar, in the latter end of the third century: they fay, he was killed in battle against Ofcar the fon of Offian, but deny that he fell by his hand. 1 It is, however, certain, that the Irish bards difguife, in fome measure, this part of their history. An Irish poem on this fubject, which, undoubtedly, was the fource of their information, concerning the battle of Gabhra, where Cairbar fell, is just now in my hands. As a translation of the poem (which, tho' evidently no very ancient compofition, does not want poetical merit) would extend this note to too great a length, I fhall only give the ftory of it in brief, with fome extracts from the original Irish. Ofcar, fays the Irish bard, was invited to a feaft, at Temora, by Cairbar king of Ireland. A difpute arofe between the two heroes, concerning the exchange of fpears, which was ufually made, between the guests and their hoft, upon fuch occafions. In the courfe of their altercation, Cairbar faid, in a boaftful manner, that he would hunt on the hills of Albion, and carry the spoils of it into Ireland, in fpite of all the efforts of its inhabitants. The original words are; Briathar vided his red hair behind. He lay, like a fhattered rock, which Cromla fhakes from its fhaggy fide; when the green-vallied Erin thakes its mountains, from fea to fea!. BUT never more fhall Ofcar rife! He leans on his boffy fhield. His fpear is in his terrible, hand. Erin's fons, ftand diftant and dark. Their fhouts, arife, like crouded ftreams. Moi-lena ecchoes wide. Fingal heard the found. He took the fpear of Selma. His fteps are before us on the heath. He. fpoke the words of woe. Briathar buan fin; Briathar buan A bheireadh an Cairbre rua', Gu tuga fe fealg, agus creach soft all aireach. Ofcar replied, that, the next day, he himself would carry into Albion the spoils of the five provinces of Ireland; in fpite of the oppofition of Cairbar. Briathar eile an aghai' fin A bheirea'sanct' Ofcar, og, calmayiannoo, Hodamat Do dh' ALBIN an la'r na mhaireach, &c.› Ofcar, in confequence of his threats, began to lay wafte Ire land; but as he returned with the fpoil into Ulfter, thro' the narrow pass of Gabhra (Caoil ghlen Ghabhra) he was met, by Cairbar, and a battle enfued, in which both the heroes fell by mutual wounds. The bard gives a very curious lift of the followers of Ofcar, as they marched to battle. They appear to have been five hundred in number, commanded, as the poet expreffes it, by fiue heroes of the blood of kings. This poem mentions Fingal, as arriving from Scotland, before Ofcar died of his wounds. "I hear "I hear the noife of war. Young Ofcar is alone. Rife, fons of Morven join the hero's fword !" OSSIAN rushed along the heath. Fillan bounded over Moi-lena. Fingal ftrode in his ftrength. 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 first arrived. We fought. Erin's chiefs withstood our rage. But when the king came, in the found of his course, what heart of fteel could fand! Erin filed over Moi-lena. Death purfued their flight. We faw Ofcar on his fhield. We faw his blood around. Silence darkened every face. Each turned his back and wept. The king ftrove to hide his tears. His "grey beard whiftled in the wind. He bends his head-above the chief. His words are mixed with t "ART thou fallen, O Ofcar, in the midst of thy course? the heart of the aged beats over thee! He fees thy coming wars! The wars which ought to come he fees! They are cut off from thy fame! When fhall joy dwell at Selma? When thall grief depart from Morven ? My fons fall by degrees: Fingal is the laft of his race. My fame begins to pafs away Mine vage age will be without friends. I shall fit a grey cloud in my hall. I shall not hear the return of a fon, in his founding arms. Weep, ye heroes of Morven ! never more fhall Ofcar rife !" AND they did weep, O Fingal! Dear was the hero to their fouls. He went out to battle, and the foes vanished. He returned, in peace, amidst 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 is low! Bran is howling at his feet: gloomy Luath is fad, for he had often led them to the chace; to the bounding roe of the defart! -4 WHEN Ofcar faw his friends around, his hearsing breaft arofe. The groans," he said, "of Laged chiefs: The howling of my dogs: The fudden bursts of the song of grief, have melted Ofcar's foul. My foul, that never melted before. It was like the feel of my sword. Offian, carry me to my hills! Raise the stones of my renown. Place the horn of a deer: place my fword by my fide. The torrent hereafter may * raise the earth: the hunter may find the steel and fay, This has been Ofcar's sword, the pride of other years! Falleft thou, fon of my fame! Shall I never fee thee, Ofcar! When * Bran was one of Fingal's dogs. Bran fignifies a mountain-fiream. SE VOL. II. C others |