Ossian Collection > Fingal, an ancient epic poem

A P O E M. 145
of Morven's gloomy danger. — Let each * aflume
his heavy fpear, and gird on his father's fword. —
Let the dark helmet rife on every head ; and the
mail pour its Hghtcning from every fide. — The
battle gathers like a tempeft, and foon fliall ye
hear the roar of death.
The hero moved on before his hofl:, like a cloud
before a ridge of green fire ; when it pours on
the (ky of night, and mariners forefee a ftorm.
On Cona's rifmg heath they flood: the white-bo*
fomed maids beheld them above like a grove ;
they forefaw the death of their youths, and look*
ed towards the fea vvlth fear. — The white wave
deceived them for diilant fails, and the tear is on
their cheek.
The fun rofe en the fea, and we beheld a dif,
tant fleet. — Like the mill; of ocean they came :
and poured their youth upon the coafl:. — The
chief was among them, like the (lag in the midft
of the herd.— His iliield is ftudded with gold, and
flatelv ftrode the king of fpears. — He moved ta-
"uards Selma ; his thoufands moved behind.
Go, with thy fong of peace, faid Fingal ; f^o,
Ullin, to the king of fwords. Tell him that we
* Lv (All T»? ^Off ^-//IdfraSi/ IV ^^X^TTi^a QiSr^O.
HoM II ii. 382,
His fliarpen'd fpear let every Grecian wield,
And every Grecian fix his brazen fhield, iffc. Pope.
Let each
His adamantine coa- gird well, and each
Fit well his hehu, gripe faft his orbed ihield,
Borne ev n or high ; for this day will pour down.
If 1 conjedilure rigiit, no drizling lliower,
But ratding llorm of arrows oarb'd wirh Tre.
MiLTOV.
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