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The rocks, the plains, the woods, the pleasing scenes
He said—'twas night, and solemn silence reign'd
on a time, when Liberty was seen
* This poem, which has no name in the MS., I have entitled the HUNTER, to distinguish it from the HIGHLANDER, of which, perhaps, it is the first rough and imperfect draught. Though rude, and in many passages quite Judicrous, it is curious, as the first epic production of the father of Ossian; marked with his national and political prejudices, and with the wild and vivid imagery of his poetical prose. It is particularly observable, that his early genius for heroic poesy led him, even in the preceding poem upon Death, to the description of battles and single combats, and to a careful selection of the choicest similes, which appear as conspicuous, in the midst of an insipid narrative, as those projecting passages in an extemporary speech, of which a few well-turned periods had been previously composed. VOL. II.