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to which must be imputed fome Inverfions in the Style, that otherwife 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 those 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. Cucbulaid, the General or Chief of the Irish Tribes, upon Intelligence of the Invasion, affembles his Forces; Councils are held; and Battles fought. But after feveral unfuccefsful 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 Ships to affift Cuchulaid. He expels the Danes from the Country; and returns home

home victorious. This Poem is held to be of greater Antiquity than any of the reft that are preserved: And the Author speaks of himself as present 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 serve to throw confiderable Light upon the Scottish and Irish Antiquities.

FRAG

FRAGMENT LA I:

SHIRLIC, VINVELA.

M

VINVELA.

Y Love is a,Son of the Hill. He pursues the flying Deer. His gray 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 Mift is Aying over thee, let me approach my Love unperceived, and see him from the Rock. Lovely I faw thee firft by the aged Oak of Branno; thou wert returning tall from the Chace; the fairest among thy Friends.

SHIRLIC.

What Voice is that I hear? That Voice like the Summer-wind.I fit not by the nodding Rufhes; 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 fee thee, fair-moving by the Stream

5

of

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

VINVELA.

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 ruftling Tree. The Hunter is far removed; he is in the Field of Graves. Strangers! Sons of the Waves! fpare my lovely Shilric.

SHILRIC.

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

VIN VELA.

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 see the Place of thy Reft, returning from the Chace. Indeed, my Shilric will fall; but I will remember him.

FRAG

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