Ossian Collection > Galic antiquities

290
DARGO the Son of DRUIVEL:
dren admire thy tall form. " A ghoft," they fay, " bends over
Moruth ; the dim path of the fpear is in his lhiekl and bread ; and
we faintly fee, through the mark, the burning ftars." — I hear
them, and know it is Iforno's chief. I teach the children the fong
of his fame. They fay that Dargo, at times, is with him; that the
winds lift the red meteor that forms his hair, and that the gray
oak is ftill befide him j" . — I rejoice in their vifits to our hill, where
no ghoft of the departed molefts them. No; the feuds of other
years, by the mighty dead, are forgotten. The warriors now meet
in peace, and ride together on the tempefl's wing. No clang of
the fhield, no noife of the fpear, is heard in their peaceful dwell-
ing. Side by fide they fit, who once mixed in battle their fteel *..
There,
■j- The poet fuppofes the oak to be as difference. Every body has as much right
effential a neighbour to the Druid in the in this cafe to judge for himfelf as the
next world as it was in this. tranflator has, who does all he can to put
* Offian, on feveral occafions, fhews this in their power, by laying befora
a liberality of fentiment which does ho- them the words of the original,
nour to his charader. Here he not on- Cuairt nam flath gur ait leam feiii
_, , . r ^ i_* Gu aonach nan tannas gun bheum.
ly allows future happinefs to his ene- ,...;, . ,
' Far chiurre gach falachd air cut
mies ; but, well judging the little diffe-
rences of this world of too fmall impor-
tance to be renewed beyond the grave,
wifhes for the moft cordial reconcilia-
tion. Thofe who were at variance here,
as he elfewhere expreffes it, " ftretch
their arms of miff to the fame fhell in
Loda." (Poem of Oi-na-morul.)
Such has been the fate of the Galic
poetry, that its moft beautiful paffages
are generally thofe which have been moft
objected to. To fupprefs any of them,
on this account, would be as cowardly,
as it would be prefumptuous to treat the
prejudices that are againft them with in-
Sa bhcil na feoid a dh'aon run.
Thacodhail nan Cathanann fith
'S iad airfgiathan na doininn gun ftri',
Gun bheum-fgeithe gun fhanim lainne
'N co'nviidh thofdach na caomh-chlainne.
Tha lliochd Lochlinn is Fhinn, gn h ard,
Ag cifdeachd cailhream nan aona bhard ;
An uigh cho'n eil tuille ri ftri'
'S gun uireas' air fiothann no fri'.
Tha'n fuil air na blianai' a thrcig
(Le fnotha gun ghean mar mi f^in)
'S air raoD nan rua'bhoc le io'nadh,
On glas-eideadh air mharcachd (hine.
— Mar fgeul nam blianai' chaidh fcacl>
Air iteigaonaich, le'n ciar-dhreach,
Tha aiding na beatha dhuibh's a Fhlaithibh' ;
Mar tha dhamhfa Dearg nan cathaibh.