Ossian Collection > Fingal, an ancient epic poem

A P O E M. r25
Aldo :— Fingal ?— who never injured a hero, though
his arm is rtrong.
Soft voice of Cona ! replied the king, tell
him, that he fpreads his feaft in vain. — Let Fin-
gal pour his fpoils around me ; and bend beneath
my power. Let him give me the Iwords of his
fathers, and the fhields of other times ; that my
children may behold them in my halls, and fay,
** Thefe are the arms of Fingal.*'
Never fliall they behold them in thy halls,
faid the rifing pride of the maid ; they are in the
mighty hands of heroes who never yielded in war.
— King of the ecchoing Sora ! the ftorm is ga-
thering on our hills. Doft thou not forefee the
fill of thy people, fon of the diflant land ?
She came to Selma's filent halls ; the king
beheld her down-caft eyes. He rofe from his
pUce, in his flrength, and fhook his aged locks.
— He took the founding mail of Trenmor, and
the dark-brown fhield of his fathers. Dark-
nefs filled Selma's hall, when he ftretched his
hand to his fpear: — the ghofls of thoufands were
near, and forefaw the death of the people. Ter-
rible joy rofe in the face of the aged heroes:
they rufhed to meet the foe ; their thoughts are
on the a6lions of other y&srs : and on the fame
of the tomb.
Now the dogs of the chafe appeared at Trat-
hal's tomb : Fingal knew that his young heroes
followed them, and he ftopt in the midft of his
eourfe. — Ofcar appeared the firft; — then Morni*s
G 3 fon.