Oh! thou hast seen the setting sun
Slowly retire behind his cloud,
Night gathering round the mountain's brow
While autumn's blast roared long and loud;-

The thunder rolled in heavy peals,

The rain at length poured down in streams,

The lightning glanced upon the rocks,
And spirits rode on fiery beams!

Such was the battle's dreadful din,

Thou maiden of the arins of snow,
But why, my daughter, why that tear?
Tears from the maids of Lochlin flow.

The people of their country fell,

My heroes' swords stained with their blood,Oh, weep for me, forlorn and blind,Vanished is every earthly good!

Give me thy tears, thou tender heart,
My dear companions mouldering lie, -
Feeble and helpless here I sit,

Oh! maiden, give to me thy sigh!

'Twas then, by Fingal's mighty hand,
A valiant son of Lochlin fell-
He raised his dying eyes to heaven,
The king of Morven knew him well:

"And hast thou fall'n, mine ancient friend?
Has Fingal's hand then dealt the blow?
And thou wast Aggandecca's friend,
Thine eyes have wept the maiden low;

"Oh! I am grieved that by my hand
Thou should'st have found a bloody bed,
For thou hast been the mortal foe,
Of those who laid her with the dead;-

"Raise, Ullin, raise great Mathon's grave!
Name him in Aggandecca's song;
Oh! she was dear to Fingal's heart,
His love was faithful, deep and strong!"

From Cromla's cave Cuthullin heard
The din of war, the sound of spears,
He called to Connal, brave in fight,
And Carril, bard of other years:

The gray-haired heroes heard his voice,
And shook their pointed spears,
They saw the tide of battle roll:-
Cuthullin dried his tears;

His soul was kindled at the sight,
Dark was his frowning brow,
His hand is on his father's sword,
His red eye on the foe!

Thrice he essayed to join the war,
And Connal stayed him thrice;
"Oh, Chieftain of the Isle of Mist!
Take Connal's sage advice;-

"Great Fingal now subdues the foe,
Seek not to rob him of his fame,
For he is like the stormy tide,

His valour Lochlin cannot tame!"

"Go, Carril, go," replied the chief,
"And greet the mighty king of spears;
Say, that should he require my aid
'Tis known Cuthullin never fears;-

"When he has conquered Lochlin's chief
And all his army falls away,
When the fierce battle scene is past
Cuthullin will his homage paу;-

"Sweet in his ear shall be my voice,
I'll praise the king of Selma high!
Give him great Cathbat's sword of might,
His fame shall ring through earth and sky!

"But I am humbled to the dust,

My father's arms I dare not raise;
Come, all ye wandering ghosts of air,
And soothe me with your mournful lays!

"Be near Cuthullin's wandering steps,
Talk to him in his lonely cave;
No more shall my renown arise
'Midst warriors in the battle brave!

"I was a beam that brightly shone,
A transient mist, a morning cloud;
My light is quenched, my spirit broke,
Henceforth these walls my form shall shroud;

"Oh! Connal, talk no more of arms!
Departed is my warlike fame,
My sighs shall rise on Cromla's wind
When quite forgotten is my name;

"But thou, Bragela! lonely maid!
Thy hapless hero's fate shall weep,
Vanquish'd, I'll ne'er return to thee,
In Tura's cave my form shall sleep!"

ARGUMENT TO BOOK V.

Cuthullin and Connal still remain on the hill. Fingal and Swaran meet: the combat is described. Swaran is overcome, bound, and delivered over as a prisoner to the care of Ossian and Gaul the son of Morni. Fingal, his younger sons, and Oscar, still pursue the enemy. The episode of Orla, a Chief of Lochlin who was mortally wounded in the battle, is introduced. Fingal, touched with the death of Orla, orders the pursuit to be discontinued, and calling his sons together, he is informed that Ryno, the youngest of them, is slain. He laments his death: hears the story of Lamderg, and Gelchossa, and returns toward the place where he had left Swaran. Carril, who had been sent by Cuthullin to congratulate Fingal on his victory, comes in the mean time to Ossian. The conversation of the two Poets closes the action of the fourth day.

:

BOOK V.

CONNAL, from Cromla's echoing side,
The sad Cuthullin thus addressed:
"Oh! son of Semo, why that gloom?
Thy useless grief must be suppressed;-

"Our friends are terrible in war,

And thou, a hero of renown! Thy arm hath spread destruction wide, Brave men have quailed beneath thy frown;

"The fair Bragela oft has met

Her hero from the battle plain, Her blue eyes wet with tears of joy That he in triumph came again;

"The blood-stained sword she fondly viewed, Red with the gore of slaughtered foes,

And pleasant to her ears the harp,
When in the song thy deeds arose;

"Behold, Cuthullin, Morven's king
As a fiery pillar moves along!
Strong, as fair Lubar's rushing stream,
Or wind thro' echoing Cromla borne."

Happy the nation thou dost rule,
Oh Fingal! wise, and valiant king,
Happy the warriors who partake
That fame which future bards shall sing!