[FRAGMENT] V. James Macpherson Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T83707 K068251.000 Macpherson, James, 1736-1796 Fragments of ancient poetry, collected in the Highlands of Scotland, and translated from the Galic or Erse language. Edinburgh printed for G. Hamilton and J. Balfour 1760 pp. []-25. 70p.; 8⁰.

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[ FRAGMENT ] V .

AUTUMN is dark on the mountains ; grey mist rests on the hills . The whirlwind is heard on the heath . Dark rolls the river through the narrow plain . A tree stands alone on the hill , and marks the grave of Connal . The leaves whirl round with the wind , and strew the grave of the dead . At times are seen here the ghosts of the deceased , when the musing hunter alone stalks slowly over the heath .

WHO can reach the source of thy race , O Connal ? and who recount thy Fathers ? Thy family grew like an oak on the mountain , which meeteth the wind with its lofty head . But now it is torn from the earth . Who shall supply the place of Connal ?

HERE was the din of arms ; and here the groans of the dying . Mournful are the wars of Fingal ! O Connal ! it was here thou didst fall . Thine arm was like a storm ; thy sword , a beam of the sky ; thy height , a rock on the plain ; thine eyes , a furnace of fire . Louder than a storm was thy voice , when thou confoundedst the field . Warriors fell by thy sword , as the thistle by the staff of a boy .

DARGO the mighty came on , like a cloud of thunder . His brows were contracted and dark . His eyes like two caves in a rock . Bright rose their swords on each side ; dire was the clang of their steel .

THE daughter of Rinval was near ; Crimora , bright in the armour of man ; her hair loose behind , her bow in her hand . She followed the youth to the war , Connal her much beloved . She drew the string on Dargo ; but erring pierced her Connal . He falls like an oak on the plain ; like a rock from the shaggy hill . What shall she do , hapless maid ! — He bleeds ; her Connal dies . All the night long she cries , and all the day , O Connal , my love , and my friend ! With grief the sad mourner died .

EARTH here incloseth the loveliest pair on the hill . The grass grows between the stones of their tomb ; I sit in the mournful shade . The wind sighs through the grass ; and their memory rushes on my mind . Undisturbed you now sleep together ; in the tomb of the mountain you rest alone .