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AFTER an address to Malvina, the daughter of Tofcar, Offian proceeds to relate his own expedition to Fuärfed, an island of Scandinavia.-Mal-orchol, king of Fuärfed, being hard preffed in war, by Ton-thormod, chief of Sar-dronlo, (who had demanded, in vain, the daughter of Mal-orchol in marriage) Fingal fent Offian to his aid.Offian, on the day after his arrival, came to battle with Ton-thormod, and took him prifoner.— Mal-orchol offers his daughter Oina-morul to Offian; but he, discovering her paffion for Ton-thormod, generoufly furrenders her to her lover, and brings about a reconciliation between the two kings.





S flies the unconftant fun, over Larmon's graffy hill; fo pass the tales of old, along my foul, by night. When bards are removed to their place; when harps are hung in Selma's hall; then comes a voice to Offian, and awakes his foul. It is the voice of years that are gone: they roll before me, with all their deeds. I feize, the tales, as they pafs, and pour them forth in fong. Nor a troubled ftream is the fong of the king, it is like the rifing of mufic from Lutha of the ftrings.-Lutha of many ftrings, not filent are thy ftreamy rocks, when "the white hands of Malvina move upon the harp. -Light of the fhadowy thoughts, that fly across my foul, daughter of Tofcar of helmets, wilt thou not hear the fong! We call back, maid of Lutha, the years that have rolled away.

Ir was in the days of the king,* while yet my locks were young, that I marked Con-cathlin †, on high, from ocean's nightly wave. My courfe was towards the ifle of Fuärfed, woody dweller of feas. Fingal had fent me to the aid of Mal-orchol, king of Fuärfed wild: for war was around him, and our fathers had met, at the feaft.

IN Col-coiled, I bound my fails, and fent my fword to Mal-orchol of fhells. He knew the fignal of Albion, and his joy arofe. He came from his own high hall, and seized my hand in grief. Why comes the race of heroes to a falling king? Ton-thormod of many fpears is He faw and the chief of wavy Sar-dronlo.

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* Fingal.

+ Con-cathlin, mild beam of the wave. What star was fo called of old is not eafily afcertained. Some now diftinguifh the pole-ftar by that name. A fong, which is ftill in repute, among the fea-faring part of the Highlanders, alludes to this paffage of Offian. The author commends the knowledge of Offian in fea affairs, a merit, which, perhaps, few of us moderns will allow him, or any in the age in which he lived.-One thing is certain, that the Caledonians often made their way thro' the dangerous and tempestuous feas of Scandinavia; which is more, perhaps, than the more polished nations, fubfifting in those times, dared to venture.-In eftimating the degree of knowledge of arts among the antients, we ought not to bring it into comparison with the improvements of modern times, Our advantages over them proceed more from accident, than any merit of ours.


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loved my daughter, white-bofomed Oina-mórul. He fought; I denied the maid; for our fathers had been foes. He came, with battle, to Fuärfed. My people are rolled away.-Why comes the race of heroes to a falling king?"

I COME not, I faid, to look, like a boy, on the ftrife. Fingal remembers Mal-orchol, and his hall for ftrangers. From his waves, the warrior defcended, on thy woody ifle. Thou wert no cloud before him. Thy feast was spread with fongs. For this my fword fhall rife; and thy foes perhaps may fail.-Our friends are not forgot in their danger, tho' diftant is our land.

SON of the daring Trenmor, thy words are like the voice of Cruth-loda, when he speaks, from his parting cloud, ftrong dweller of the iky! Many have rejoiced at my feaft; but they all have forgot Mal-orchol. I have looked towards all the winds, but no white fails were feen.-But fteel refounds in my hall; and not the joyful fhells. --Come

*There is a fevere fatire couched in this expreffion, against the guests of Mal-orchol. Had his feaft been still fpread, had joy continued in his hall, his former parafites would not have failed to refort to him. But as the time of feftivity was paft, their attendance alfo ceafed. The sentiments of a certain old bard are agreeable to this obfervation. He, poetically, compares a great man to a fire kindled in a defart place. "Thofe that pay court to him, T 3


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