Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 2

no T E M O R A: Book V.
fteps; and the big tear comes down. He founds
his father's horn. He thrice flrikes his bolTy
Ihield. He calls thrice the name of Folda^h,
from his roaring tribes. Foldath, ^'ith joy,
beholds the chief. He lifts aloft his bloody
fpear. As a rock is marked with ftreams, that
fell troubled down its fide in a florm; fo,
ftreaked with wandering blood, is the dark chief
of Moma ! The hoft, on either fide, withdraw
from the contending of kings. They raife, at
once, their gleaming points. Rufhing comes
Fillan of Selma, Three paces back Foldath
withdraws, dazzled with that beam of light,
which came, as IlTuing from a cloud, to fave
the wounded chief. Growing in his pride he
fiands. He calls forth all his fteel.
As meet two broad-winged eagles, in their
founding ftrife, in winds : fo rufh the two chiefs,
on Moi-lena, into gloomy fight. By turns are
the fteps of the kings * forward on their rocks
above j for now the dufky war feems to defcend
on their fwords. Cathmor feels the joy of war-
riors, on his mofly hill : their joy in fccret,
when dangers rife to match their fouls. His eye
is not turned on Lubar, but on Sclma's dread-
ful king. He beholds him, on Mora, rifing in
his arms.
• Fingal and Cathmor,
Foldath