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often fought, and often won, in battles of the spear. But blind and tearful, and forlorn I walk with little men! O Fingal, with thy race of war I now behold thee not. The wild roes feed on the green tomb of the mighty king of Morven ! Blest be thy soul, thou king of swords, thou most renowned on the hills of Cona!
ARGUMENT-The action of the poem being suspended by night, Ossian takes that opportunity to relate his own actions at the lake of Lego, and his courtship of Everallin, who was the mother of Oscar, and had died some time before the expedition of Fingal into Ireland. Her ghost appears to him, and tells him that Oscar, who had been sent the beginning of the night to observe the enemy, was engaged with an advanced party, and almost overpowered. Ossian relieves his son: and an alarm is given to Fingal of the approach of Swaran. The king rises, calls his army together, and, as he had promised the preceding night, devolves the command on Gaul, the son of Morni, while he himself, after charging his sons to behave gallantly and defend his people, retires to a hill, from whence he could have a view of the battle. The battle joins: the poet relates Oscar's great actions. But when Oscar, in conjunction with his father, conquered in one wing, Gaul, who was attacked by Swaran in person, was on the point of retreating in the other. Fingal sends Ullin his bard to encourage him with a war song, but notwithstanding Swaran prevails; and Gaul and his army are obliged to give way. Fingal, descending from the hill rallies them again: Swaran desists from the pursuit, possesses himself of a rising ground, restores the ranks, and waits the approach of Fingal. The king having encouraged his men, gives the necessary orders, and renews the battle. thullin, who with his friend Connal, and Carril his bard, had retired to the cave of Tura, hearing the noise, came to the brow of the hill, which overlooked the field of battle, where he saw Fingal engaged with the enemy, He, being hindered by Connal from joining Fingal, who was himself upon the point of obtaining a complete victory, sends Carril to congratulate that hero on his success.
WHO comes with her songs from the hill, like the bow of the showery Lena? It is the maid of
* Fingal being asleep, and the action suspended by night, the poet introduces the story of his courtship of Everallin the daughter of Branno. The episode is necessary to clear up several passages that follow in the poem, at the same time that it naturally brings on the ac
the voice of love! The white-armed daughter of Toscar! Often hast thou heard my song; often given the tear of beauty. Dost thou come to the wars of thy people? to hear the actions of Oscar? When shall I cease to mourn, by the streams of resounding Cona? My years have passed away in battle. My age is darkened with grief!
Daughter of the hand of snow! I was not so mournful and blind, I was not so dark and "forlorn, when Everallin loved me! Everallin "with the dark-brown hair, the white-bosomed "daughter of Branno. A thousand heroes sought "the maid, she refused her love to a thousand. "The sons of the sword were despised: for "graceful in her eyes was Ossian. I went, in "suit of the maid, to Lego's sable surge. Twelve "of my people were there, the sons of streamy "Morven! We came to Branno, friend of stran"gers! Branno of the sounding mail.
• From "whence,' he said, are the arms of steel? "Not easy to win is the maid, who has denied "the blue-eyed sons of Erin. But blest be thou, "O son of Fingal! Happy is the maid that "waits thee. Though twelve daughters of beau
ty were mine, thine were the choice, thou son "of fame!'
tion of the book, which may be supposed to begin about the middle of the third night from the opening of the poem. This book as many of Ossian's other compositions, is addressed to the beautiful Malvina, the daughter of Toscar. She appears to have been in love with Oscar, and to have affected the company of the father after the death of the son.
He opened the hall of the maid, the dark-haired Everallin. Joy kindled in our manly breasts. We blest the maid of Branno. Above us on the hill appeared the people of stately Cormac. Eight were the heroes of the chief. The heath flamed wide with their arms. There Colla; there Durra of wounds, there mighty Toscar, and Tago, there Festal the victorious stood; Dairo of the happy deeds: Dala the battle's bulwark in the narrow way! The sword flamed in the hand of Cormac. Graceful was the look of the hero! Eight were the heroes of Ossian. Ullin stormy son of war. Mullo of the generous deeds. The noble, the graceful Scelacha. Oglan, and Cerdal the wrathful. Dumariccan's brows of death. And why should Ogar be the last; so wide renowned on the hills of Ardven?
Ogar met Dala the strong, face to face, on the field of heroes. The battle of the chiefs was like wind, on ocean's foamy waves. The dagger is remembered by Ogar; the weapon which he loved. Nine times he drowned it in Dala's side. The stormy battle turned. Three times I broke on Cormac's shield: three times he broke his spear. But, unhappy youth of love! I cut his head away. Five times I shook it by the lock. The friends of Cormac fled. Whoever would have told ine, lovely maid, when then I strove in battle; that blind, forsaken, and forlorn, I now should pass the night; firm ought his mail to have been; unmatched his arm in war."
On* Lena's gloomy heath, the voice of music died away. The unconstant blast blew hard. The high oak shook its leaves around. Of Everallin were my thoughts, when in all the light of beauty she came; her blue eyes rolling in tears. She stood on a cloud before my sight, and spoke with feeble voice! "Rise, Ossian, rise, and
save my son; save Oscar prince of men. Near "the red oak of Lubar's stream, he fights with "Lochlin's sons." She sunk into her cloud again. I covered me with steel. My spear supported my steps; my rattling armour rung. I hummed, as I was wont in danger, the songs of heroes of old. Like distant thunder Lochlin heard. They fled; my son pursued.
I called him like a distant stream. Oscar return over Lena. "No further pursue the foe,"
I said, "though Ossian is behind thee.
came! and pleasant to my ear was Oscar's sounding steel. Why didst thou stop my hand,” he said, "till death had covered all? For dark and "dreadful by the stream they met thy son and "Fillan. They watched the terrors of the night; "Our swords have conquered some. But as the "winds of night pour the ocean over the white "sands of Mora, so dark advance the sons of
* The poet returns to his subject. If one could fix the time of the year in which the action of the poem happened, from the scene described here, I should be tempted to place it in autumn. The trees shed their leaves, and the winds are variable, both which circumstan ces agree with that season of the year.