Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

so F I X G A L. [Hook V.
* Oria, to yield I never yet was known.
' No: — never did Fin:]!;a! siiljmit to man.
' Draw then thy sword, and pitch upon thy foe;
* for many are my heroes for thy chuiee.' 1 II)
' 7\nd does the kinci; refuse with me to figlit ?'
Then Orla ot the (kirk-hrown jiair ie]>Iy'(i.
* Fingal with Orhi can in fii;ht compeer,
* And he alone of all his num'rous race. — '
* But, king of Morven, if I here should fall, 115
' (For, soon or late the luarrior needs must die ;J
* In magnitude exceeding all the rest,
* My silent tomb in Lena central raise:
* And to the spouse of his once warmest love
' Send o'er the dark-blue ocean Orla's sword : 120
* That to her son if she, with tears, may shew,
* And kindle up liis soul for feats of war.'
Fingal reply'd : ' Son of the mournful tale,
* Why harrow up my soul with te u-ful grief?
* Warriors one daij must die, and in the hall 12.#
* Their children on tlieir useless arms may look.
* But, Orla, rest assur'd thy torn!) shall rise,
* And o'er thy sword thy mournful spouse sli ill weep.'
On Lena's heath they fought, but feeble soon
Prov'd Orla's arm, Fingal's broad, waving sword, l.)0
With force descending, cleft his shield in twain,
And glitt'ring on the ground the pieces lay.
So beamd the moon upon the stream of niglit.
' O king of Morven,' then the hero said,
* Lilt up thy sword ; and ]Merr<» this ]-»anting breast, 1.1"»
I Wounded and faint from !)att!e, here I stand
' Deserted by mv friends. The mournfal t:ilc,