Na mu's còrag chruaidh do bheachd Naisgemid mu Fhainesoilse." Sheas as chrith is' air mo chùl, Chunnaic, lub e 'm bogh, a's mharbh,, 'Stric le bròn a luaidh na baird. « 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 Faineasollis.” On me turn thy spear and sword, We fought, nor feeble was the fight, Beneath my sword the warrior sunk in death 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 Faineasollis, who sleeps in her grave. Free of pride I move over the heap, The brave I always held in great esteem, O Oscar! such have I been in my youth, But shun it not, when it comes. ORIGINAL OF OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN IN CARTHON, REFERRED TO P. 475. O! THUSA fein a shiubh'las shuas No 'nuair a chritheas anns an iar Le do dheirse ciar air lear. 'Smaith d'fheudta gum bheil thu mar mi feìn, A LITERAL LATIN TRANSLATION BY ALEXANDER STEWART, A. M. O! Tu ipse, qui ambulas supra, Rotundus instar pleni clypei duri principum, Es tute in tuo itinere solus, Quis audet accedere ad te? Cadet quercus de monte alto, Cadet saxea moles sub senium, et scopulus; Celabitur supra luna in cœlo; Inter gaudia perennia tui luminis, Cum nigrescit circum mundum tempestas, Quòd non videam unquam tuum vultum, 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, Ag siubhal le cheile gu 'n ceann. 'S an liath-cheo air thaobh nan carn, 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 |