Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

98 ^rEMOKA. [Book]
* Straight to the hall of shells my way I sped,
* And found a thousand lights bright-shining there, 43(i
* The hundred bards had strung the dulcet lyre,
* And in the midst, bright as the morning-star
* (When it rejoices on the eastern hill,
* And its young beams are moist with vernal show'rs)
* In youth's meridian lustre Cormac stood. 43'
* The sword of Artho sparkled in his hand,
* And on its polish'd studs he look'd with joy.
* To draw it, thrice he strove, and tJirice he faiTd.
* Wide on his shoulders flows his yellow hair,
* And red appear his che -ks of youthful bloom. 44i
* Inward my soul was mournful, wliea I saw
* The beam of youth : for, he was soon to set,
" Althan!" (* he said ,• and smiled as he spoke,*)
** Hast thou beheld my father ? Sure, his arm
" Was strong : for, heavy is the royal sword, 4A<
" O that, as when iu rage his wrath arose,
" Like him I were in figiit ! So would I tlien,
•' Cuchull in-like, Cantela's car-borne son
" Have dauntless met ! But (Althan !) on may come
" Years, which, at length, my youthful arm may sttel, 45
" Of high Temora's chief, great Semo's sou
*• (Say) hast thou heard ? Ere now, he with liis fame
" Back might have come ; for, he his promise gave
" That he this night must surely would return.
•' Him with the plaudit-song my bards await, 45
** And wide my feast is in Temora spread."
* Tlius spoke the king ; and silent I rem:iin'd ;
' Yet bursting grief produc'd my flowing tears.
* Them with my aged locks I kept conceal'd,
* But, though rcprest my sorrow he pcrcciv'd. 46
" O Conachar's son I" * to mc, in huL-tc, he suid,'