roll back my foul to the times of my fathers: to the years when firft they rofe, on Inis-huna's waves. Nor alone pleafant to Cathmor is the remembrance of wood-covered Lumon. Lumon of the ftreams, the dwelling of whitebofomed maids." "LUMON of the ftreams, thou rifeft on Fonar's foul! Thy fun is on thy fide, on the rocks of thy bending trees. The dun roe is feen from thy furze; the deer lifts his branchy head; for he fees, at times, the hound, on the halfcovered heath. Slow, on the vale, are the steps of maids; the white-armed daughters of the bow they lift their blue eyes to the hill, from amidft their wandering locks. Not there is the ftride of Larthon, chief of Inis-huna. mounts the wave on his own dark oak, in Cluba's ridgy bay. That oak which he cut from Lumon, to bound along the fea. The maids turn their eyes away, left the king thould be lowly-laid; for never had they feen a ship, dark rider of the wave !" He "Now he dares to call the winds, and to mix with the mist of ocean. Blue Inis-fail rofe, in Lumon was a hill, in Inis-huna, near the refidence of Sul-malla. This episode has an immediate connection with what is faid of Larthon, in the defcription of Cathmor's fhield. fmoak, t fmoak; but dark-skirted night came down. The fons of Bolga feared. The fiery haired Ton-théna rofe. Culbin's bay received the fhip, in the bofom of its ecchoing woods. There, iffued a ftream, from Duthuma's horrid cave; where fpirits gleamed, at times, with their halffinished forms." "DREAMS defcended on Larthon: he faw feven fpirits of his fathers. He heard their half-formed words, and dimly beheld the times to come. He beheld the kings of Atha, the fons of future days. They led their hofts, along the field, like ridges of mift, which winds pour, in autumn, over Atha of the groves." "LARTHON raifed the hall of Samla, to the mufic of the harp. He went forth to the roes of Erin, to their wonted streams. Nor did he forget green-headed Lumon; he often bounded over his feas, to where white-handed. Flathal looked from the hill of roes. Lumon of the foamy streams, thou rifeft on Fonar's. foul !" MORNING pours from the eaft. The mifty heads of the mountains rife. Valleys fhew, on *Samla, apparitions, fo called from the vifion of Larthon, concerning his pofterity. Flathal, heavenly, exquifitely beautiful. She was the wife of Larthon. every 1 every fide, the grey-winding of their ftreams. His hoft heard the fhield of Cathmor at once they rofe around; like a crowded fea, when firft it feels the wings of the wind. The waves know not whither to roll; they lift their troubled heads. SAD and flow retired Sul-malla to Lona of the ftreams. She went, and often turned; her blue eyes rolled in tears. But when the came to the rock, that darkly-covered Lona's vale: she looked, from her burfting foul, on the king; and funk, at once, behind. SON of Alpin, ftrike the ftring. Is there aught of joy in the harp? Pour it then on the foul of Offian: it is folded in mift. I hear thee, O bard, in my the lightly-trembling found. belongs to Offian, amidst years. night. But cease The joy of grief his dark-brown GREEN thorn of the hill of ghofts, that shakeft thy head to nightly winds! I hear no found in thee; is there no fpirit's windy skirt now ruffling in thy leaves? Often are the steps of the dead, in the dark-eddying blafts; when the moon, a dun fhield, from the east, is rolled along the sky. ULLIN, Carril, and Ryno, voices of the days of old! Let me hear you, while yet it is dark, |