Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

102 TEMORA. [Book II
* Fil!;m, their host,' I to the hero said,
* Approach thou shalt not, nor, lelbre thy laiiie
' Is gone abroad, slialt thou in danger t'alK
* When needful, /advance: in martial song
* My name is heard* I, from the skirts of night,
' Shall view their gleaming tribes. Of Oscar, why,
' My sigh to summon, Fillan, didst thou speak?
* The warrior, till away the storm is i-oH'd,
* I must forget. I'Vhere danger threafning hangs,
' WitJiin the soul, no sadness ought to diuell ;
* Nor in the eije of war, the falling tear,
* Until the din of arms upon the plain
* Had ceas'd, our ancestors their falTn sons
* Left in oblivion. Then returning grief
* Look'd to the tomb, and mournful dirges 'rose.
* The brother of Trothal, first of mortal men,
* Was Conar. Dreadful glcam'd on every coast
* His sword victorious. In a thousahd streams
* Of purple roll'd the blood of his slain foes.
* Sweet as a fragrant gale, his swelling fame
* Green Erin fill'd. The nations from around
*. In Ullin met, and bless'd the valiant king— .
* The king, descended from the land of hinds,
* Of their forefathers' race of high renown.
* Amidst the darkness of their growing pride
* The southern chiefs assembled ; and their words
* In Moma's horrid cave in secret mix'd.
« Thither, they said, their ancestorial ghosts
* Came frequent, darting from the cliinky rocks
* Their forms of paleness, and of Bolga's fame ]
* (Long held in honour) proin[)tive to their minds,
' Subversive of great Conar's sway, they said,
" Why should the son of streamy Morvcn reign."