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beam of the oak we sat down. At a distance stood Cathlin of Clutha. I saw the changeful soul of the stranger. As shadows fly over the field of grass, so various is Cathlin's cheek. It was fair within locks, that rose on Rath-col's wind. I did not rush, amidst his soul, with my words. 1 bade the song to rise.

“ Oscar of Lego," I said, “ be thine the secret hill to-night.* Strike the shield like Morven's kings. With day thou shalt lead in war. From my rock I shall see thee, Oscar, a dreadful form ascending in fight, like the appearance of ghosts amidst the storms they raise. Why should mine eyes return to the dim times of old, ere yet the song had bursted forth, like the sudden rising of winds ? But the years that are past are marked with mighty deeds. As the nightly rider of waves looks up to Ton-thena of beams, so let us turn our eyes to Trenmor the father of kings."

“ Wide, in Caracha's echoing field, Carmal had poured his tribes. They were a dark ridge of waves. The gray-haired bards were like moving foam on their face. They kindle the strife around with their redrolling eyes,

Nor alone were the dwellers of rocks ; a son of Loda was there, a voice in his own dark land, to call the ghosts from high. On his hill he had dwelt in Lochlin, in the midst of a leafless grove. Five stones lifted near their heads. Loud roared his rushing stream. He often raised his voice to the winds, when 'meteors marked their nightly wings, when the dark-robed moon was rolled behind her hill.. Nor unheard of ghosts was he! They came with the sound of eagle-wings. They turned battle, in fields, before the kings of men.

* This passage alludes to the well-known custom among the an cient kings of Scotland, to retire from their army on the night pre ceding a battle. The story which Ossian introduces in the next paragraph, concerns the fall of the Cruids.

“ But Trenmor they turned not from battle. He drew forward that troubled war: in its dark skirt was Trathal, like a rising light. It was dark, and Loda's son poured forth his signs on night. The feeble were not before thee, son of other lands! Then rose the strife of kings about the hill of night; but it was soft as two summer gales, shaking their light wings on a lake. Trenmor yielded to his son, for the fame of the king had been heard. Trathal came forth before his father, and the foes failed in echoing Caracha. The years that are past, my son, are marked with mighty deeds."

In clouds rose the eastern light. The foe came forth in arms. The strife is mixed on Rath-col, like the roar of streams. Behold the contending of kings! They meet beside the oak. In gleams of steel the dark forms are lost ; such is the meeting of meteors in a vale by night : red light is scattered round, and men foresee the storm !-Duth-carmor is low in blood! The son of Ossian overcame ! Not harmless, in battle, was he, Malvina, hand of harps !

Nor, in the field, were the steps of Cathlin. The strangers stood by secret stream, where the foam of Rath-col skirted the mossy stones. Above bends the branchy birch, and strews its leaves on wind. The inverted spear of Cathlin touched at times tne stream. Oscar brought Duth-carmor's mail : his helmet with its eagle-wing. He placed them before the stranger, and his words were heard. “ The foes of thy father have fallen. They are laid in the field of ghosts. Renown returns to Morven like a rising wird. Why art thou dark, chief of Clutha ? Is there cause for grief ?'

“Son of Ossian of harps, my soul is darkly sad. ] behold the arms of Cathmol, which he raised in war Take the mail of Cathlin, place it high in Selma's hall, that thou mayest remember the hapless in thy distant land." From white breasts descended the mail. It was the race of kings: the soft-handed daughter of Cathmol, at the streams of Clutha! Duth-carmor saw her bright in the hall; he had come by night to Clutha. Cathmol met him in battle, but the hero fell. Three days dwelt the foe with the maid. On the fourth she fled in arms. She remembered the race of kings, and felt her bursting soul !

Why, maid of Toscar of Lutha, should I tell how Cathlin failed ? Her tomb is at rushy Lumon, in a distant land. Near it were the steps of Sul-malla, in the days of grief. She raised the song for the daugh. ter of strangers, and touched the mournful harp.

Come from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely beam!

SUL-MALLA OF LUMON.

ARGUMENT.

This poem, which, properly speaking, is a continuation of the last,

grens with an address to Sul-malla, the daughter of the king of Tois-huna, whom Ossian met at the chase, as he returned from the battle of Rath-col. Sul-malla invites Ossian and Oscar to a feasi, at the residence of her father, who was then absent on the wars. Upon hearing their names and family, she relates an expedition of Fingal into Inis-huna. She casually mentioning Cathinor, chief of Aiha, (who then assisted her father against his enemies,) Ossian introduces the episode of Culgorm and Suran-dronlo, two Scandinavian kings, in whose wars Ossian himself and Cathmur were engaged on opposite sides. The story is impertect, a part of the original being lost. Ossian, warned in a dream by the ghost of Trenmor, sets sail from lois-huna.

Who moves so stately on Lumon, at the roar of the foamy waters? Her hair falls upon her heaving breast. White is her arm behind, as slow she bends the bow. Why dost thou wander in deserts, like a light through a cloudy field ? The young roes are panting by their secret rocks. Return, thou daughter of kings! the cloudy night is near! It was the young branch of green Inis. huna, Sul-malla of blue eyes. She sent the bard from 'her rock to bid us to her feast. Amidst the song we sat down in Cluba's echoing hall. White moved the hands of Sul-malla on the trembling strings. Halfheard, amidst the sound, was the name of Atha's king: be that was absent in battle for her own green land. Nor absent from her soul was he : he came 'midst hei thoughts by night. Ton-thena looked in from the sky, and saw her tossing arms.

The sound of shells had ceased. Amidst long locks Sul-malla rose. She spoke with bended eyes, and asked of our course through seas; “for of the kings

our race.

of men are ye, tall riders of the wave.”

« Not un known,” I said, “at his streams is he, the father of

Fingal has been heard of at Cluba, blue. eyed daughter of kings. Not only at Crona's stream is Ossian and Oscar known. Foes tremble at our voice, and shrink in other lands."

“ Not unmarked,” said the maid, “ by Sul-malla, is the shield of Morven's king. It hangs high in my father's hall, in memory of the past, when Fingal came to Cluba, in the days of other years. Loud roared the boar of Culdarnu, in the midst of his rocks and woods. Inis-huna sent her youths; but they failed, and virgins wept over tombs. Careless went Fingal to Culdarnu. On his spear rolled the strength of the woods. He was bright, they said, in his locks, the first of mortal men. Nor at the feast were heard his words. His deeds passed from his soul of fire, like the rolling of vapors from the face of the wandering sun. Not careless looked the blue eyes of Cluba on his stately steps. In white bosoms rose the king of Selma, in the midst of their thoughts by night. But the winds bore the stranger to the echoing vales of his roes. Nor lost to other lands was he, like a meteor, that sinks in a cloud. He came forth, at times in his brightness, to the distant dwelling of foes. His fame came, like the sound of winds, to Cluba's woody vale.

“ Darkness dwells in Cluba of harps ! the race of kings is distant far : in battle is my father Conmor; and Lormar, my brother, king of streams. Nor dark. ening alone are they; a beam from other lands is nigh; the friend of strangers* in Atha, the troubler of the field. High from their misty hills looks forth the blue eyes of Erin, for he is far away, young dweller of their sous ! Nor harmless, white hands of Erin! is Cath.

* Cathmor, the son of Berbar-duthol.

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