Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

286 TIGHMORA. [Duan V.
As, winding, it pours through the glen ;
On each side, on hills that are lofty, 20
Is the appearance of tall kings ;
While the people close round them throng,
Moving up at their leaders' voice —
As if spoke from the clouds their sires,
Leaving the cold wind of the hills. 25
They in form were like rocks above,
AVith dark<heads under troubled trees,
As around swam the mist and storm.
High on the ascent is a stream
That scatters its foam on the wind. 30
At the king of Atha's high words,
Erin poured on the field unceasing,
Like the terrible sound of lightning ;
Strongly flanked they went down to Lubar,
Foldath stepped before them anew. 35
The king left the field for the mount ;
'Neath the boughs of an oak he sat ;
Streamlets wandered down by his side.
He raised the bright weapon of fate,
The dread spear of kings in his hand ; 40
A splendour it was to his people
Amid the fierce conflicts of battle.
Near him stood the maiden of chiefs,
The daughter of blue-shielded Conmor,
Bright leaning to a rock, but faint ; 45
The strife was no pleasure to her ;
Her gentle soul was not for blood.
Green valleys are spread far away,
At the base of hills of clear streams —