Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

Di-ax iv. j FTONNGAL. 173
Who much grieved for the high-born maid.
To my soul sweet the maiden of ships,
"Who sleeps beneath the hill of Ardbheinn.'' 455
Cuchullin o'erheard from the hill
The strong crashing of swords in battle,
As he sat on Cromla of caves,
Deep-grieved to be foiled in battle.
He called Conal of the sharp sword, 460
And Caruill from the time of old.
Towards him the grey warriors came,
Upraising their shields on the field ;
They came, and before them beheld
The stream of waylike ocean's tide, 465
When the black tempest wakes above,
High rolling the billows ashore,
On the sands of the desert glens.
Cuchullin's soul burned at the sight ;
A frown gathered dark on his brow; 470
His hand was on his father's sword,
And his red eye on Erin's foes.
Three times did the chief stretch his step,
His step Conal three times restrained.
" Chief of the isle of dull grey mist, 475
'Tis the king who conquers the foe ;
Seek not thou to divide his fame,
And himself like storm on the hill."'
" Go, Caruill," the leader resumed,
" Go quickly to the king of Morbheinn ; 480
Bear greeting to the chief of glens,
The slayer and waster in battle.
When Lochlin subsides like a flood