Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 2

92 T E M O R A : Book IV.
roes, upon the ecchoing hills. My IfTuIng forth
was with kings. My joy in dreadful plains :
where broken hofts are rolled away, like feas be-
fore the wind."
So fpoke the king of Alnecma, brightening
in his rifing foul. Valour, like a pleafant flame,
is gleaming within his breaft. Stately is his
firide on the heath ! The beam of eaft is poured
around. He faw his grey hofl: on the field,
wide-fpreading their ridges in light. He re-
joiced, like a fpirit of heaven, whole fleps come
forth on the feas, when he beholds them peace-
ful round, and all the winds are laid. But foon
he awakes the waves, and rolls them large to fome
ecchoing ihore.
On the rufhy bank of a flream, flept the
daughter of Inis-huna. The helmet had fallen
from her head. Her dreams were in the lands
of her fathers. There morning is on the field.
Grey flreams leap down from the rocks. Tjie
breezes, in fhadowy waves, fly over the rufliy
fields. There is the found that prepares for
the chace. There the moving of warriors from
the hall. But tall above the reft is feen the hero
of ftreamy Atha. He bends his eye of love on
Sul-malla, from his ftately fieps. She turns,
with pride, her face away, and carelefs bends
the bow.
Such