Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

238 TIGHMORA. [Duan II.
Then the king remembered his son ;
From a hundred silent fell tears.
Three times called the bards of song, 145
Beside the caves of huge cold waves,
The spirit of conquering Colgar,
To his hills from the land of battles.
He heard them in his lazy mist.
Trathal put his sword in a cave, 150
Mean of joy to his son in death."
" Colgar, son of Trathal," said Fillan,
" Thou wast famed, though young, among men.
The king did not look on my sword,
Which shone at the time on the plain. 155
I'm going along with the people,
And coming with conquest, unfamed.
Our foes are approaching us, chief ;
There is noise on the misty hill ;
The noise of their feet is like thunder, 160
As wildly it rolls underground, 1
When the mountains shake their green trees,
Though no breath of wind is astir
On the dark cold brow of the sky."
Ossian quickly turned on his spear. 165
I raised a blaze with trees on the field ;
I sent forth the sound on the wind.
Conquering Cathmor halted his step ;
He stood like a glittering rock
Amid the straying winds of night, 170
When the blast the waterfall grasps,
1 This also seems to refer to earthquake.