Ossian Collection > Fingal

A P O E M. 263
the virgins are thine, fon of generous Larthmor ! But why doft thou
leave me alone in the midft of roaring waters. Was my foul dark
with thy death ? Did my white hand lift the fword ? Why then
haft thou left me alone, king of high Finthormo * [
The tear ftarted from my eye, when I heard the voice of the maid.
I flood before Jier in my arms, and fpoke the words of peace.
Lovely dweller of the cave, what figh is in that breaft ? Shall Offian
lift his fword in thy prefence, the deftrudion of thy foes ? — Daugh-
ter of Torthoma, rife, I have heard the words of thy grief. The
race of Morven are around thee, who never injured the weak. Come
to our dark-bofomed fliip, thou brighter than that fetting moon.
Our courfe is to the rocky Berrathon, to the ecchoing walls of
Finthormo. She came in her beauty, £he came with all her
lovely fteps. Silent joy brightened in her face, as when the flia-
dows fly from the field of fpring ; the blue-ftream is rolling in
brightnefs, and the green bufh bends over its courfe.
The morning rofe with its beams. We came to Rothma's
bay. A boar rufhed from the wood j my fpear pierced his fide. I
rejoiced over the blood -f, and forefaw m.y growing fame. But
now tlie found of Uthal's train came from the high Fin-thormo ;
they fpread over the heath to the chace of the boar. Himfelf comes
flowly on, in the pride of his ftrength. He lifts two pointed fpears.
On his fide is the hero's fword. Three youths carry his poliihed
* Finthormo, the palace of Uthal. The omen of his future fuccefs in that ifland,
names in this epifode are not of a Celtic The prefcnt highlantlers look, with a de-
ori^inal ; which mikes it probable that gree of fuperflition, upon the fuccefs of
Oflian founds his poem on a true ftory. their firft a£lion, after they have engaged
+ Oflian thought that his killing the boar, in any defperate undertaking.
en his firft landing in Berrathon, was a good
^ bows :