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soft complaint of Minona! How are ye changed, my friends, since the days of Selma's feast! when we contended, like the gales of the spring, that, flying over the hill, by turns bend the feebly -'whistling grass.

Minona then came forth ' in her beauty; with downcast look and tearful eye; her hair flew slowly on the blast that rushed unfrequent from the hill. The souls of the heroes were sad when she raised the tumeful voice; for often had they seen the grave of Salgar *), 'and the dark dwelling of whitebosomed Colma **). Colma left alone on the hill, with all her voice of music! Salgar promised to come: but the night descended round. Hear the voice of Colma, when she sar alone on the hill!

COI'M A. „It is night;

I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard in the mountain. The torrent shrieks down the rock. No hut receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds.

Rise, moon! from behind thy clouds; stars of the night appear! Lead me, some light, to, the place where my love rests from the toil of the chase! his bow near him, unstrung; his dogs panting around him, But here I must sit alone, by the rock of the mossy stream. The stream and the wind roar; nor can I hear the voice of my lore.

Why delays my Salgar, why the son of the bill, his promise ? Here is the rock, and the tree; and here the roaring stream. Thou didst promise with night to be here. whither is my Salgar gone? : With thee I would fly my father; with thee, ny brother of pride: Our race have long been foes; but we are not foes, Q Salgar!

Cease a little while, O wind! stream, be thou silent a while, let my voice be' heard over the heath; let

my wanderes hear me. Salgar! it is I who call. Here is the tree, and the rock. Salgar, my love! I am here. Why delayest thou thy coming!

Lo! the moon appeareth. The flood is bright in the vale. The rocks are grey on the face of the Lill. But I see bim not on the brow; his dogs before him tell not that be is coming. Here I must sit alone.

*) Sealg-'er, a hunter. **) Cul-mah, a woman with fine hair.

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But who are these that lie beyond me on the heath? Are 'Bhey my love and has broiler? Speak to me, O my friends! illey answer not, . My soul is to mented with fears. Ah! they are, dead. Their swo:ds are red from the fight, O my brother! my brother! wliy last thou slain my Salgar? wby, O 'Salgar! last thou slain my broiher? Dear were ye boil to me! what shall I say, in your praise? Thou, wert fair, on the will among thousands; he was terrible in light. Speak to me; hear my voice, sons of my love! But alas! they are silent; silem for ever! Cold are their breasts of clay?

Oh! from the rock of the hill; from the top of the windy mountain, speak, ye 'gbosis of the dead! speak, I will not be afraid.

Whither are ye gone to rest? In what cave of the hill shall I find you? No feeble voice is on the wind: no answer half- drowned in the storms of the hill.

I sir in my grief. I wait for morning in my tears. Rear the tomb, ye friends of the dead; but close it not till Colma

My life flies away like a dream: wby should I stay behind? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock; When night comes on țhe hill; when the wind is on the heath; my ghost shall stand in the wind, and mourn the death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth. He shall fear, but love my voice. For sweet shall my voice be for

my friends; for pleasant were they both to me. Such was thy song, Minona softly-blushing maid of Tor

Our tears descended for Colma, and our souls were sad. Ullin came with the harp, and gave the song of Alpin. The voice of Alpin was pleasant: the soul of Ryno was a beam of fire. But they had rested in the narrow house: and their voice was not heard in Selma.

Ullin had returned one day from the chase, before the heroes fell. He heard their strife on the hill: their song was soft but sad. They mourned the fall of Morar, first of mortal men. His soul was like the soul of Fingal; his sword like the sword of Oscar. But he fell, and his father mourned: his sister's eyes were full

Minona's eyes were full of tears, the sister of carborne Morar. She retired from the song of Ullin, like the moon in the west, when she fore - sees the shower, and hides her fair headl in a cloud. I touched the harp, with Ullin; the song of mourning rose.


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Reno. The wind and the rain are over: calm is the noon of day. The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstant sun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream! but more sweet is the voice I hear. It is the voice of Alpin, the son of song, mourning for the dead. Beni is his head 'of' age, and red his tearful eye. Alpin, thou sou of song, why alone on the silent hill? why complainest thou, as a blast in the wood? as a' wave on the lonely shorg?

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ALPIN, My tears, O Ryno! are for the dead; ' my voice, for the inhabitants of the


Tall thou art on the bill; fair among the sons of the plain. "But thou shalt fall like Morar *); and the mourner shall sit on thy tomb. The hills shall know thee no more; thy bow shall lie in the hiall, unstrung.

Thou wert swift, O Morár! as a toe on the hill;" terrible as a meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle, ag lightning in the field. Thy voice was like a stream after rain; like thunder on distant hills. Many féll by thy arm: they were consumed in the flames of the wrath.

But when thou didst return from war, how peaceful. was thy brow! Thy face was like the sun after rain; like the moon in the silence of niglit; calın as the breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid.

Narrow is thiy dwelling now; dark the place of thine abolc. With ihree steps i compass thy grave. O thou whe wast so great before! Four stones, with their heads of moss, are the only memorial of thée. A tree with scarce a leaf, long grass

which whistles in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the 'mighty Morar. Morar! thou art low indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee; 'no maid with her tears of love. Dead' is she that brought thee forch. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan.

Who on his staff is this? who is this, whose head is white with age, whose eyes are red with tears who quakes at every step?

It is thy father **), O Morar! the father of no son but thee. He heard of thy fame in battle; he beard of foes dispersed. "He heard of Morar's fame; - why did he not

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*) Mor-er, great man. **) Torman, the son of Carthal, lord of I-mora, one of the westeru isles.

hear, of his wound? Weep, thou father of Morar! weep; but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead; low their pillow of dust. No more sliall be hear thy voice; no more shall be awake at thy call. When shall it be morn in the grave, to bid the slumberer awake?'

Farewel, thou bravest of men! thou conqueror in the field! but the field shall see thee no more; nor the dark wood be lightened with the splendor of thy steel. Thou hast left no son. But the song shall preserve thy name. Future times shall hear of thee; they shall hear of the fallen Morar...

The grief of all arose, but most the bursting sigh of Armin *). He remembers the death of his son, who fell in the days of his youth. Carmor **) was near the 'hero, the chief of the echoing Galmal. Why bursts the sigh of Armin, he * said? Is there a cause to mourn? The song comes, with its music, to melt and please the soul. It is like soft mist, that rising from a lake, pours on the silent vale; the green flowers are filled with dew, but the sun returns in 'his strength, and The mist is gone. Why art thou sad, O Armin, chief of seasurrounded Gorma?

Sad! I am sad indeed: nor small my cause of woe! Carmor, thou hast lost no son; thou hast lost no daughter of beauty. Colgar the valiant, lives; and Annira fairest maid. The boughs of thy family flourish, O Carmor! but Armin is the last of his race. Dark is thy bed, 0 Daura! and deep thy sleep in the tomb ***). When shalt thou awake with thy songs? with all thy voice of music?

*) Armin, a hero. He was chief or petty king of Gorma, i. e. the blue island, supposed to be one of the Hebrides.

**) Cear-mor, a tall dark - complexioned man.

***) John Smith seiner Abhandlnng über die Ächtheit der Gedichte Ossian's führt an, dass man den Ort der in dies ser Episode erzählten Handlung, in Schottland, in einem fast unzugänglichen Winkel von Argyle-shire genau angeben könne; das Eiland, wohin Erath die Daura seführt, heisse noch itzt Inis- Erath (Erath’s Eiland); eine gegenüberliegende Meierei habe gleichfalls den Namen daher, und etwa eine Meile davon führe ein Strom den Namen Dura-im ( Strom der Daura). ' In dieser Gegend giebt es mehrere Örter, die von Ossianschen Helden, als von Konnal u. a. den Namen führen. ( Diese Anmerkung ist aus der Übersetzung der Gedichte Ossian's von Rhode entlehnt.)

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Arise : prinds of autumn, arise; blow upon the dark heath! streams of the mountains, roar! howl, ye tempests, in the top of the oak! walk through broken clouds, O moon! show by intervals thy pale face! bring to my inind that sad night, when all my children fell; when Arindal the mighty fell; when Daura the lovely failed.

Daura, my daughter! thou wert fair; fair as the moon on the hills of Pura *); white as the driven snow; sweet as the breathing gale. Arindal, thy bow was strong, thy spear was swift in the field: thy look was like mist on the wave; thy shild, a ród cloud in a storm. Armar, renowned in war came, and sought Daura's love; he was not long denied; fair was the hope of their friends.

Erath, son of Odgal, repined; for his brother was slain by Armar. He caine disguised like a son of the sea: fair was liis skiff on the wave; white his locks of age; calın his serious brow. „Fairest of women, he said, lovely daughter of Armin! a rock not distant in the sea, bears a tree on its side; red shines the fruit afar. ) There Armar waits for Daura.

I came to carry his love along the rolling sea.

She went; and she called on Armar. Nought answered, but the son of the rock **). „Armar, my love! my love! why tormentest thou me with fear? bear, son of Ardnart, bear: it is Daura who calleth thee!” Erath the traitor fled laughing to the land. She lifted up her voice, and cried for her brother and her father. „Arindal! Armin! nunc to relieve your Daura!"

Her voice came over the sea. Arindal my son descended from the hill: rough in the spoils of the chase.

His arrows rautled by his side, his bow was in his band; five dark gray dogs attended his steps. He saw fierce Erath on the shore: he seized and bound bim to

an oak.

Thick bead the thongs ***) of the bide around his limbs; he loads the wind -- with his groads.

Arindal' ascends the wave in his boat, to bring Daura to


*) Fuar-a, cold island. *) By the son of the rock, the poet means the echoing back of the human voice from a rock. The vulgar were of opinion, that this repetition of sound, was made by a spirit within the rock; and they, on that account, called it mac- talla; the son who dwells in ihe 'rock. **) The poer here only means that Erath was bound with leathern thongs.

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