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A HEROIC POEM. 149
ling to hear it. It is that, I remember when the
Fiugalians sat on this sacred hill, in harmony of
one mind. Upon this hill, as one man we were,
Patrick, of the noble, liberal sentiments? I saw
once the Fingalian family cheerful, great, vigo-
rous, and joyful. Upon this hill were the Finga-
lians spending the time with mirth, according to
our pleasure.
When we saw a young maid on the plain, com-
ing toward us, and she alone. A courteous vir-
gin, of the most beautiful form; of tiie fairest and
redest cheek; whiter than the beam-rays of the
sun was the upper part of her breast, under
her handsome shift. Two clear mild eyes were
in her head; with beautiful robes she was clo-
thed; bands of gold were round her neck; and a
chain of gold under her precious jewels. From
that family of Fingal in Albin, we all upon her
fixed our hearts in love; none of us loving his
own wife, but all our love centred in the virgin.
She sought the protection of Oscar, the son of
the generous Ossian ; and of Caoilte, chief of the
clan of Retha. I claim your aid, generous Fin-
galians, whether sons of kings, or high powerful
chiefs
Who is in pursuit of thee, said they, maid of
the most beautiful form? In pursuit of me, fair
hero of the noblest race of Fingalians, is the great
lolann, warlike and quick; the son of the king
of Spain. I much fear, liberal Fingalians, that
u

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