Ossian Collection > Fingal

Book III. AnEPICPOEM. 41
fandy vale. The fea comes with its waves, and roars on its harden-
ed fides. Its head is covered with foam, and the hills are ecchoing
around. Now from the gray mift of the ocean, the white-failed
{hips of Fingal appear. High is the grove of their mafts as they
nod, by turns, on the rolling wave.
S WAR AN faw them from the hill, and returned from the fons of
Erin. As ebbs the refounding fea through the hundred ifles of Inis-
tore ; fo loud, fo vaft, fo immenfe returned the fons of Lochlin
againft the king of the defart hill. But bending, weeping, fad, and
flow, and dragging his long fpear behind, CuchuUin funk in Crom-
la's wood, and mourned his fallen friends. He feared the face of
Fingal, who was wont to greet him from the fields of renown.
How many lie there of my heroes ! the chiefs of Inisfail ! they
that were chearful in the hall when the found of the fhells arofe.
No more fhall I find their fteps in the heath, or hear their voice in
the chace of the hinds. Pale, filent, low on bloody beds are they
who were my friends ! O fpirits of the lately-dead, meet Cuchullin
on his heath. Converfe with him on the wind, when the ruftling
tree of Tura's cave refounds. There, far remote, I fhall lie un-
known. No bard fliall hear of me. No gray ftone fhall rife to my
renown. Mourn me with the dead, O Bragela ! departed is my
fame.
Such were the words of CuchvtUin when he funk in the woods
of Cromla.
Fingal, tall in his fhip, flretched his bright lance before him.
Terrible was the gleam of the fteel : it was like the green meteor of
death, fetting in the heath of Maimer, when the traveller is alone,
and the broad moon is darkened in heaven.
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