him of my deeds in war! Tell where his father fell!"

"Not forgetful of my fathers," faid Fingal, "I have bounded over the feas. Theirs were the times of danger, in the days of old. Nor fettles darknefs on me, before foes, though youthful in my locks. Chief of Crathmo-craulo, the field of night is mine."

Fingal rushed, in all his arms, widebounding over Turthor's ftream, that fent its fullen roar, by night, through Gormal's mifty vale. A moon-beam glittered on a rock; in the midst, stood a flately form; a form with floating locks, like Lochlin's white-bofomed maids. Unequal are her fteps, and fhort. She throws a broken fong on wind. on wind. At times fhe toffes her white arms for grief is dwelling in her foul.

"Torcul-torno *, of aged locks!" fhe faid, "where now are thy fteps, by Lulan? Thou

preferved. It is curious to fee, that the defcriptions of magnificence, introduced in thefe tales, is even fuperior to all the pompous oriental fictions of the kind.

*Torcul-torno, according to tradition, was king of Crathlun, a diftrict in Sweden. The river Lulan. ran near the refidence of Torcul-torno. There is a river in Sweden, ftill called Lula, which is probably the fame with Lulan. The war between Starno and Torcul-torno, which terminated in the death of the

latter,

Thou haft failed at thine own dark streams, father of Conban-cârgla! But I behold thee, chief of Lulan, fporting by Loda's hall, when the dark-fkirted night is rolled along the fky.-Thou, fometimes, hideft the moon with thy fhield. I have feen her dim, in heaven. Thou kindleft thy hair into meteors, and faileft along the night. Why am I forgot, in my cave, king of fhaggy boars? Look, from the hall of Loda, on thy lonely daughter."

latter, had its rife at a hunting party. Starno being invited, in a friendly manner, by Torcul-torno, both kings, with their followers, went to the mountains of Stivamore, to hunt. A boar rushed from the wood before the kings, and Torcul-torno killed it. Starno thought this behaviour a breach upon the privilege of guests, who were always honoured, as tradition expreffes it, with the danger of the chafe. A quarrel arose, the kings came to battle, with all their attendants, and the party of Torcul-torno were totally defeated, and he himself flain, Starno pursued his victory, laid wafte the district of Crathlun, and, coming to the refidence of Torcul-torno, carried off, by force, Conbancarglas, the beautiful daughter of his enemy. Her he confined in a cave, near the palace of Gormal, where, on account of her cruel treatment, fhe became diftra&ed.

The paragraph, just now before us, is the fong of Conban-carglas, at the time he was difcovered by Fingal. It is in lyric measure, and fet to mufic, which is wild and fimple, and fo inimitably fuited to the fituation of the unhappy lady, that few can hear it without tears.

" Who

The fame verfified.

Where fair-hair'd Harold, o'er Scandinia reign'd, And held, with juftice, what his valour gain'd, Sevo, in fnow, his rugged forehead rears, And, o'er the warfare of his storms, appears Abrupt and vaft.-White-wandering down his fide A thousand torrents, gleaming as they glide, Unite below; and pouring through the plain. Hurry the troubled Torno to the main.

Grey, on the bank, remote from human kind,
By aged pines, half shelter'd from the wind,
A homely manfion rofe, of antique form,
For ages batter'd by the polar ftorm.

To this fierce Sigurd fled, from Norway's lord,
When fortune fettled, on the warrior's fword,
In that rude field, where Suecia's chiefs were flain,
Or forced to wander o'er the Bothnic main.
Dark was his life, yet undisturb'd with woes,
But when the memory of defeat arose

His proud heart ftruck his fide; he grafpt the spear,
And wounded Harold in the vacant air.

One daughter only, but of form divine,

The laft fair beam of the departing line,
Remain'd of Sigurd's race. His warlike fon
Fell in the fhock, which overturn'd the throne.
Nor defolate the house! Fionia's charms
Suftain'd the glory, which they loft in arms.

White was her arm, as Sevo's lofty fnow,
Her bofom fairer than the waves below,
When heaving to the winds. Her radiant eyes
Like two bright ftars, exulting as they rife,
O'er the dark tumult of a stormy night,
And gladd'ning heav'n, with their majestic light.

In nought is Odin to the maid unkind.
Her form fcarce equals her exalted mind;
Awe leads her facred fteps where'er they move,
And mankind worship, where they dare not love.
But, mix'd with softness, was the virgin's pride,
Her heart had feeling, which her eyes deny'd.
Her bright tears started at another's woes,
While tranfient darkness on her foul arose.

The chafe fhe lov'd; when morn, with doubtful beam Came dimly wandering o'er the Bothnic stream, On Sevo's founding fides, fhe bent the bow, And rous'd his forefts to his head of fnow. Nor mov'd the maid alone; &c,

One of the chief improvements, on this edition, is the care taken in arranging the Poems in the order of time; fo as to form a kind of regular hiftory of the age to which they relate. The writer has now refigned them for ever to their fate. That they have been well received by the Public, appears from an extenfive fale; that they

fhall

fhall continue to be well received, he may venture to prophefy without the gift of that inspiration, to which poets lay claim. Through the medium of verfion upon verfion, they retain, in foreign languages, their native character of fimplicity and energy. Genuine poetry, like gold, lofes little, when properly transfufed; but when a compofition cannot bear the teft of a literal verfion, it is a counterfeit which ought not to pass current. The operation must, however, be performed with fkilful hands. A Tranflator, who cannot equal his original, is incapable of expreffing its beauties.

LONDON, Aug. 15, 1773.