ersuading,
But makes each sentence current pass
With 'puppy,' 'coxcomb,' 'scoundrel,' 'ass,'
For 'tis with him a certain rule,
The folly's proved when he calls 'fool';
Who, to increase his native strength,
Draws words six syllables in length,
With which, assisted with a frown
By way of club, he knocks us down.

JAMES MACPHERSON

["TRANSLATIONS" FROM "OSSIAN, THE SON OF FINGAL"]

FROM FINGAL, AN EPIC POEM

[FINGAL'S ROMANTIC GENEROSITY TOWARD HIS CAPTIVE ENEMY]

'King of Lochlin,' said Fingal, 'thy blood flows in the
veins of thy foe. Our fathers met in battle, because they
loved the strife of spears. But often did they feast in the
hall, and send round the joy of the shell. Let thy face
brighten with gladness, and thine ear delight in the harp.
Dreadful as the storm of thine ocean, thou hast poured thy
valour forth; thy voice has been like the voice of thousands
when they engage in war. Raise, to-morrow, raise
thy white sails to the wind, thou brother of Agandecca!
Bright as the beam of noon, she comes on my mournful
soul. I have seen thy tears for the fair one. I spared
thee in the halls of Starno, when my sword was red with
slaughter, when my eye was full of tears for the maid.
Or dost thou choose the fight? The combat which thy
fathers gave to Trenmor is thine! that thou mayest depart
renowned, like the sun setting in the west!'

'King of the race of Morven!' said the chief of resounding
Lochlin, 'never will Swaran fight with thee, first of a
thousand heroes! I have seen thee in the halls of Starno:
few were thy years beyond my own. When shall I, I
said to my soul, lift the spear like the noble Fingal? We
have fought heretofore, O warrior, on the side of the
shaggy Malmor; after my waves had carried me to thy
halls, and the feast of a thousand shells was spread. Let
the bards send his name who overcame to future years,
for noble was the strife of Malmour! But many of the
ships of Lochlin have lost their youths on Lena. Take
these, thou king of Morven, and be the friend of Swaran!
When thy sons shall come to Gormal, the feast of shells
shall be spread, and the combat offered on the vale.'

'Nor ship' replied the king, 'shall Fingal take, nor land
of many hills. The desert is enough to me, with all its
deer and woods. Rise on thy waves again, thou noble
friend of Agandecca! Spread thy white sails to the b