Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 2

I20 T E M O R A: Book VI.
inufi: not know that I doubt his fteel. No
cloud of mine lliall rife, my fon, upon thy foul
of fire !"
He lunk behind his rock, amid the found of
Carril's fong. Brightening, in my growing
foul, I took the fpear of Temora *. 1 faw,
along Moi-lena, the wild tumbling of bailie;
the ftrife of death, in gleaming rows, disjoined
and broken round. Flilan is a beam of fire.
From wing to wing is his wafteful courfe. The
ridges of war melt before him. They are rolled,
in fmoak, from the fields I
Now is the coming forth of Cathmor, in
the armour of kings ! Dark-waves the eagle's
wing, above his helmet of fire. Unconcerned
are his fleps, as if they were to the chace of
Erin. He raifes, at times, his terrible voice.
Erin, abalhed, gathers round. Their fouls re-
turn back, like a flream. They wonder at the
fleps of their fear. He rofe, like the beam of
the morning, on a haunted heath : the traveller
looks back, v/ith bending eye, on the field of
dreadful forms ! Sudden, from the rock of Moi-
lena, are Sul malla's trembling fleps. An oak
* The /pear of Temora was that which Ofcar had received,
inaprefent, from Corraac, the fon of Artho, king of Ireland.
It was of it that Cairbar made the pretext for quarrelling
with Ofcar, at the feaft, in the firft book.
Z takes