Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

7-i FINGAL. [Book IV.
Hoarse tliundcr. Liglit'ning glances on tlie rock.
Gliosts ride on beams of fire, and down the hills 3G0
The strength of mountain-streams in torrents roar.—
Such was the din of battle, whitc-arin'd maid ! —
Why, daughter of the hill, that falling tear?
For, Lochlin's maids alone have cause to weep.
The people of tlieir country fell : and red 365
Was the blue steel of my heroic race.
But now I sad, forlorn, and blind remain !
With heroes now no longer I consort I
Give, lovely maid, to me thy chrystal tears ;
For I the tombs of all my friends have seen. 370
'Twas then a hero by Fingal's own hand
F>11, to his grief. Grey hair'd he roH'd in dust,
And lifted tow'rds the king his fading eyes.
* And is it then by me,* said Comhal's son,
* That Agendecca's friend expiring lies I 375
* For my lov'd maid, in bloody Starno's iiall,
* I saw thy tears ; thou, of her foes the foe.
* The grave of Mathon's son raise, Ullin, raise ;
* And give his name to Agandecca's song.
* For dear, O Ardven's darkly-dwelling maid — 3Sii
* Dear to my soul hast thou, O virgin, been!
From Cromla's cave CuchuUin heard the noise
Of troubled war. Then, Connal, chief of swords.
And Carril of other times he call'd direct.
Arm'd with their aspen spears, the grey-hair'd chiefs 385
Attended, and the tide of battle saw,
Like ocean's crowded waves, when from the deep
The gusty, swelling winds tempestuous blow
And roll the billows through the sandy vale.
Cuchullin kindled at the stormy sight, 299
And darkness gather'd on his martial brow.
His hand is on his ancestorial sword :