Connan was the Image of Conar's Soul. Caul was renewed in Ronnan his Son. Rivine the Daughter of Conar was the Love of Ronnan; her Brother Connan was his Friend. She was fair as the Harvest Moon setting in the Seas of Molochafquir. Her Soul was settled on Ronnan; the Youth was the Dream of her Nights.

Rivine, my Love! fays Ronnan, I go to my King in Norway [9]. A Year and a Day fhall bring me back. Wilt thou be true to Ronnan?

Ronnan! a Year and a Day I will spend in Sorrow. Ronnan, behave like a Man, and my Soul fhall exult in thy Valour. Connan, my Friend, says Ronnan, wilt thou preserve Rivine thy Sister ? Durftan is in Love with the Maid; and foon fhall the Sea bring the Stranger to our Coast.

Ronnan, I will defend: Do thou fecurely go.He went. He returned on his Day. But Durftan returned before him.

Give me thy Daughter, Conar, says Durstan; or fear and feel my Power.

He who dares attempt my Sifter, fays Connan, must meet the Edge of Steel. Unerring in Battle is my Arm: My Sword, as the Lightning of Heaven,

[9] Supposed to be Fergus II. This Fragment is reckoned not altogether fo ancient as most of the rest.

Ronnan

Ronnan the Warrior came; and much he threatened Durstan.

But, faith Uran the Servant of Gold, Ronnan! by the Gate of the North fhall Durftan this Night carry thy Fair-one away. Accurfed, anfwers Ronnan, be this Arm, if Death meet him not there.

Connan! faith Euran, this Night fhall the Stranger carry thy Sifter away. My Sword fhall meet him, replies Connan, and he fhall lie low on Earth.

The Friends met by Night, and they fought. Blood and Sweat ran down their Limbs as Water on the moffy Rock. Connan falls; and cries, O Durftan, be favourable to Rivine !-And is it my Friend, cries Ronnan, I have flain! O Connan! 1 knew thee not.

He went, and he fought with Durstan. Day began to rife on the Combat, when fainting they fell, and expired. Rivine came out with the Morn; and-O what detains my Ronnan !-She faw him lying pale in his Blood; and her Brother lying pale by his Side. What could the fay? What could he do? Her Complaints were many and vain. She opened this Grave for the Warriors; and fell into it herfelf, before it was clofed; like the Sun fnatched away in Storm.

Thou haft heard this Tale of Grief, O fair Daughter of the Ifles! Rivine was fair as thyfelf: fhed on her Grave a Tear.

FRAG

FRAGMENT X.

IT is Night; and I am alone, forlorn on the

Hill of Storms. The Wind is heard in the Mountain. The Torrent fhrieks down the Rock. No Hut receives me from the Rain; forlorn on the Hill of Winds.

Rife, Moon! from behind thy Clouds; Stars of the Night, appear! Lead me, fome Light, to the Place where my Love refts from the Toil of the Chace his Bow near him, unftrung; his Dogs panting around him. But here I must fit alone, by the Rock of the mofly Stream. The Stream and the Wind roar; nor can I hear the Voice of my Love.

Why delayeth my Shalgar; why the Son of the Hill, his Promife? Here is the Rock, and the Tree; and here the roaring Stream. Thou promisedst with Night to be here. Ah! whither is my Shalgar gone! With thee I would fly my Father; with thee, my Brother of Pride. Our Race have long been Foes; but we are not Foes, O Shalgar!

Cease a little while, O Wind! Stream, be thou filent a while! let my Voice be heard over the Heath; let my Wanderer hear me. Shalgar! It is I who call. Here is the Tree, and the Rock. Shalgar, my Love! I am here. Why delayeft thou thy coming? Alas! no Answer.

Lo!

Lo! the Moon appeareth. The Flood is bright in the Vale. The Rocks are grey on the Face of the Hill. But I fee him not on the Brow; his Dogs before him tell not that he is coming. Here I must fit alone.

But who are these that lie beyond me on the Heath? Are they my Love and my Brother?-Speak to me, O my Friends! they answer not. My Soul is tormented with Fears. Ah! they are dead. Their Swords are red from the Fight. O my Brother! my Brother! Why hast thou flain my Shalgar? Why, O Shalgar! haft thou flain my Brother? Dear were ye both to me! what fhall I fay in your Praife? Thou wert fair on the Hill among Thoufands; he was terrible in Fight. Speak to me; hear my Voice, Sons of my Love! But alas! They are filent, filent for ever! Cold are their Breasts of Clay!

Oh! from the Rock of the Hill! from the Top of the Mountain of Winds, speak, ye Ghosts of the Dead! fpeak, and I will not be afraid. -Whither are ye gone to reft? In what Cave of the Hill shall I find you? No feeble Voice is on the Wind: No Anfwer half-drowned in the Storms of the Hill.

I fit in my Grief. I wait for Morning in my Tears. Rear the Tomb, ye Friends of the Dead; but close it not till I come. My Life flyeth away like a Dream: Why should I stay behind? Here fhall I reft with my Friends by the Stream of the VOL. II. foun!

L

founding Rock. When Night comes on the Hill; when the Wind is upon the Heath; my Ghoft fhall stand in the Wind, and mourn the Death of my Friends, The Hunter fhall hear from his Booth. He fhall fear, but love my Voice. For fweet fhall my Voice be for my Friends; for pleasant were they

both to me.

FRAGMENT XI.

SAD!

AD! I am fad indeed: Nor fmall my Caufe of Woe!-Kirmor, thou haft loft no Son; thou haft loft no Daughter of Beauty. Connar the valiant lives; and Annir the fairest of Maids. The Boughs of thy Family flourish, O Kirmor! But Armyn is the last of his Race. Dark is thy Bed, O Daura! and deep thy Sleep in the Tomb.-When shalt thou awake with thy Songs? With all thy Voice of Mufic?

Rife, Winds of Autumn, rife; blow upon the dark Heath! Streams of the Mountains, roar! howl, ye Tempefts, in the Top of the Oak! walk through broken Clouds, O Moon! fhow by Intervals thy pale Face! bring to my Mind that fad Night, when all my Children fell; when Arindel the mighty fell; when Daura the lovely failed; when all my Children died.

Daura, my Daughter! thou wert fair; fair as the Moon on the Hills of Jura; white as the driven Snow;