Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

?3 C A RTHON:
" Doft thou fpeak to the weak in arms !"
faid Carthon, " bard of the woody Morven ?
Is my face pale for fear, fon of the peaceful
fong ? Why then doft thou think to darken my
foul with the tales of thofe who fell ? My arm
has fought in battle ; my renown is known
afar. Go to the feeble in arms, bid them
yield to Fingal. Have not I ieen the fallen
Balclutha? And mall I feaft with Comhal's fon?
Comhal ! who threw his lire in the midft of
my father's hall ! I was young, and knew not
the caufe, why the virgins wept. The co-
lumns of fmoke pleafed mine eye, when they
rofe above my walls ! I often looked back,
with gladnefs, when my friends fled along the
hill. But when the years of my youth came
on, I beheld the mofs of my fallen walls : my
figh arofe with the morning, and my tears de-
fcended with night. Shall I not fight, I faid
to my foul, againft the children of my foes ?
And I will fight, O bard ! I feel the ftrength
of my foul."
His people gathered around the hero, and
drew, at once, their mining fwords. He
(lands, in the midft, like a pillar of fire ; the
tear half- ft ar ting from his eye ; for he thought
of the fallen Balclutha ; the crowded pride of
his foul arofe. Sidelong he looked up to the
hill, where our heroes fhone in arms ; the
fpear trembled in his hand : bending forward,
he feemeu to threaten the king.
Shall I, faid ingal to his foul, meet, at once,
the youth ? Snali I Hop him in the midft of
I his