Ossian Collection > Ossian's Fingal

BOOK I. 15
While ever and anon, is heard from far.
Borne on the breeze, th' unequal song of war ;
And rocking Cromla, the discordant sound.
In oft repeated echoes, sends around.
As an autumnal mist which dark, and high,
Against a mountain's side is seen to fly.
In thick unequal clouds of tow'ring height,
Concealing all its summit fi'om our sight ;
On Lena's dusky heath the warriors stand,
In darkening groups, wide scattered o'er the land,
When thus CuchuUin speaks. — ' Sons of the Vale !
' Ye warlike hunters of the deer ; all hail !
' Chase ye no longer now the fallow deer,
' A sport far different is drawing near.
' Rough as the waves on yonder beach that foam,
' Is the dread sport to which you now must come,
* Vide Note 5.