ted; to which must be imputed fome Inverfions in the Style, that otherwise would not have been chofen.

Of the poetical Merit of thefe Fragments nothing fhall here be faid. Let the Public judge, and pronounce. It is believed, that, by a careful Inquiry, many more Remains of ancient Genius, no lefs valuable than thofe now given to the World, might be found in the fame Country where these have been collected. In particular there is Reason to hope that one Work of confiderable Length, and which deferves to be ftyled an heroic Poem, might be recovered and tranflated, if Encouragement were given to fuch an Undertaking. The Subject is, an Invafion of Ireland by Swarthan King of Lochlyn; which is the Name of Denmark in the Erfe Language. Cuchulaid the General or Chief of the Irish Tribes, upon Intelligence of the Invafion, affembles his Forces; Councils are held; and Battles fought. But after feveral unsuccessful Engagements, the Irish are forced to fubmit. At length, Fingal King of Scotland, called, in this Poem, "The Defert of the Hills," arrives with his Ship to affift Cuchulaid. He expels the Danes from the Country;; and re

turns

turns home victorious. This Poem is held to be of greater Antiquity than any of the reft that are preserved: And the Author fpeaks of himself as prefent in the Expedition of Fingal. The three laft Poems in the Collection are Fragments which the Tranflator obtained of this Epic Poem; and though very Imperfect, they were judged not unworthy of being inferted. If the Whole were recovered, it might ferve to throw confiderable Light upon the Scottish and Irish Antiquities.

FRAG

FRAGMENT I.

SHILRIC, VINVEL A.

M

VIN VELA.

Y Love is a Son of the Hill. He pursues the flying Deer. His Grey Dogs are panting around him; his Bow-ftring founds in the Wind. Whether by the Fount of the Rock, or by the Stream of the Mountain thou lieft; when the Rushes are nodding with the Wind, and the Mist is flying over thee, let me approach my Love unperceived, and fee him from the Rock. Lovely I faw thee first by the aged Oak of Branno; thou were returning tall from the Chace; the Fairest among thy Friends.

SHILRIC.

What Voice is that I hear? That Voice like the Summer-wind. I fit not by the nodding Rushes ; I hear not the Fount of the Rock. Afar, Vinvela, afar I go to the Wars of Fingal. My Dogs attend me no more, No more I tread the Hill. No more from on high I see thee, fair-moving by the Stream

of

of the Plain; bright as the Bow of Heaven; as the Moon on the western Wave.

VIN VEL A.

Then thou art gone, O Shilric! and I am alone on the Hill. The Deer are feen on the Brow; void of Fear they graze along. No more they dread the Wind; no more the rustling Tree. The Hunter is far removed; he is in the Field of Graves. Strangers! Sons of the Waves ? fpare my lovely Shilric.

SHILRI.C.

If fall I must in the Field, raise high my Grave,. Vinvela. Grey Stones, and heaped-up Earth, shall mark me to future Times. When the Hunter fhall fit by the Mound, and produce his Food at Noon, "Some Warrior refts here," he will fay; and my Fame fhall live in his Praife. Remember me, Vinvela, when low on Earth I lie !

VINVEL A.

Yes!-I will remember thee-indeed my Shilric will fall. What fhall I do, my Love! when thou art gone for ever? Through thefe Hills I will go at Noon; I will go through the filent Heath. There I will fee the Place of thy Reft, returning from the Chace. Indeed, my Shilric will fall; but I will remember him.

FRAG