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Thuirt mi, “ tig s'on chuan bhras
Fhir tha marcacha nan tonn,
Gabh solas mo thallai uam,
An talla thogadh suas gu

daimh.
Na mu's còrag chruaidh do bheachd
Naisgemid mu Fhainesoilse.”
Sheas as chrith is' air mo chul,
Chunnaic, lub eʼm bogh, a's mharbh,,
Scinnte" thuirt mi fein, “ do lamh
'Nuair nach bi an namhaid garg.
Riumsa nochd do shleagh 's do lann
A's fonai mo chairdean do chach.
Dh'oibrich sinn, 'sni 'm b'oibir fhaoin,
Thuit fo m' lainn an laoch gu bàs,
Chuir sinn fo dha chloich san uaigh
An tì a thug, 'sa fhuair an gradh.
Chuir a's lann an laoich threin
'Sa phaillean chaol ri taobh na traigh.
'Sair Fainesoilse na huaigh,
'Stric le bron a luaidh na baird.
Gluaiseam ubhail thar a charn,
Bheirinn meas air airidh riamh,
Scrathoil an stri fola chaoi,
Anns an gearrar saoidhean sios.
Oscair! mar sin bha mi

og,
'S bithsa am mo dhoigh gu aois,
Na iarr gu brath corag chruaidh,
Ach na hob i 'nuair a thig.

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« Come thou,” I said, “ from the rapid ocean,
Thou, that ridest on the waves,
Partake of the joy of my hall,
The hall which was reared for strangers.
But if a hard contest be thy choice,
Let us contend for Faineasоllis."
She stood, and trembled by my side,
He saw her, bent his bow, and kill'd.

Unerring,” I said, " is thy hand,
When thy enemy is not fierce.
On me turn thy spear and sword,

My friends will match the rest.
We fought, nor feeble was the fight,
Beneath my sword the warrior sunk in death
We laid in their graves under two stones
Both the lover, and the beloved.
We also laid the mighty warrior's sword
In the narrow house close to the shore.
And often have the bards raised their mournful voice
For Faineasоllis, who sleeps in her grave.
Free of pride I move over the heap,
The brave I always held in great esteem,
Horrid ever is the strife of blood,
Which hews the warriors down.
O Oscar! such have I been in my youth,
And continue thou in my way to old age;
Never search thou for hard battle,
But shun it not, when it comes.

ORIGINAL OF OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SCY IS

CARTHON, REFERRED TO P. 475.

0! Thusa fein a shiubh’las shuas
Cruinn mar làn-scia chruai nan triath,
Cia as tha do dhearsa gun ghruaim,
Do sholus a ta buan a ghrian?
Thig thu ann ad'dille thréin,
A's faluichi rèil uainn an triall,
A gealach ga dubhadh san speur
'Ga cleath fein fo stuai san iar.
Tha thusa ann a d'astar amháin,
Co tha dana bhi na d' chòir?
Tuiti darag o'n chruaich aird,
Tuiti carn fo aois, a's scorr:
Tràighi, agus lionai 'n cuan,
Falaichear shuas an reul san speur;
Tha thusa d'aon a chaoi fo bhuai
An aoibhneas buan do sholuis fein.
'Nuair dhubhas m'an domhan stoirm
Le torran borb, as dealan bearth',
Seallai tu na d'àille o'n toirm
Fiamhghair' ort am bruailean nan speur.
Ach dhomhsa tha do sholus faoin,
'S nach faic mi a chaoi do ghnuis,
Sgaoileadh cùil as dr-bhui ciabh
Air aghai nan nial san ear,
No 'nuair a chritheas anns an iar
Le do dheirse ciar air lear.
Smaith d'fheudta gum bheil thu mar mı fein,

A LITERAL LATIN TRANSLATION BY ALEXANDER

STEWART, A. M.

O! Tu ipse, qui ambulas supra,
Rotundus instar pleni clypei duri principum,
Unde est tuus fulgor immunis ferruginis,
Tuum lumen quod est sempiternum, sol?
Venies tu in tuâ pulchritudine eximiâ,
Et abscondent stellæ a nobis suos cursus,
Decedet luna sine colore de cælo,
Condens se sub nubem in occidente.
Es tute in tuo itinere solus,
Quis audet accedere ad te?
Cadet

quercus de monte alto,
Cadet saxea moles sub senium, et scopulus;
Decrescet et crescet oceanus,
Celabitur supra luna in cælo;
Es tu unicus semper triumphans
Inter gaudia perennia tui luminis,
Cum nigrescit circum mundum tempestas,
Cum tonitru fero, et fulinine infesto,
Aspicies tu in tuâ pulchritudine e murmure
Subridens inter tumultus cælorum.
At mihi est tua lux vana (inutilis),
Quòd non videam unquam tuum vultum,
Seu spargas vertice tuos aureos capillos
Per faciem nubilorum in oriente,
Seu vibres in occidente,
Ad tua claustra fusca super mare.
At potest fieri ut sis tu similis mihi,

'S an am gu treun, 'sgun fheum air am,
Ar blianai a tearna o'n speur
Ag siubhal le cheile

cheile gu'n ceann.
Biodh aoibhneas ort fein a ghrian!
'S tu veartmhor, a thriath a'd'oige,
'S bronach mi-thaitneach an aois,
Mar ghealaich fhaoin san speur,
A raith fo neul air a raon,
'S an liath-cheo air thaobh nan carn,
An osag o thuath air an reth;
Fear siubhail fo bhèud, 's e mall.

Literal English Translation. O! thou, that travellest above, round, like the full-orbed hard shield of the mighty! whence are thy beams without frown, thy light that is everlasting, O sun? Thou comest forth in thy powerful beauty, and the stars hide their course, the moon pale-orbed retires from the sky, hiding herself under a cloud in the west. Thou art in thy journey alone : who dares approach thee? The oak falls from the lofty mountain, the stony heap and the towering cliff sink under age; the ocean ebbs and flows; the moon is hid above in the sky; but thou alone art for ever victorious, continually rejoicing in thy own light. When the storm darkens round the world, with fierce thunder and piercing lightning, thou lookest in thy beauty from the noise, smiling amidst the tumult of the sky! But to me thy light is in vain, for I can never see thy countenance, whether thou spreadest thy golden locks on the face of the

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