Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

FINGAI.. 319
fell. — Bloody were the blue swords of the race
of my heroes ! But I am sad, forlorn, and blind :
no more the companion of heroes ! Give, lovely
maid, to me thy tears. 1 have seeti the tombs
of all my friends !
It was then, by FingaFs hand, a hero fell, to
his grief! Gray-haired he rolled in the dust.
He lifted his faint eyes to the king ! ' And is it
by me thou hast fallen,' said the son of Comhal,
* thou friend of Agandecca ! I have seen thy
tears for the maid of my love in the halls of the
bloody Starno ! Thou hast been the foe of the
foes of my love, and hast thou fallen by my
hand ? Kaise, Ullin, raise the grave of Mathon,
and give his name to Agandecca's song. Dear
to my soul hast thou been, thou darkly-dwelling
maid of Ardven !'
Cuthullin, from the cave of Cromla, heard
the noise of the troubled war. He called to
Connal chief of swords : to Carril of other
times. The gray-haired heroes heard his voice.
They took their pointed spears. They came,
and saw the tide of battle, like ocean's crowded
waves, when the dark wmd blows from the
deep, and rolls the billows through the sandy
vale ! Cuthullin kindled at the sight. Dark-
ness gathered on his brow. His hand is on the
sword of his fathers : his red rolling eyes on
the foe. He thrice attempted to rush to battle.
He thrice was stopt by Connal. * Chief of the
isle of mist,' he said, ' Fingal subdues the foe.
Seek not a part of the fame of the king ; him-
self is like the storm I'
' Then, Carril, go,' replied the chief, * go
greet the king of Morven. When Lochlin falls
away like a stream after rain ; when the noise
of the battle is past ; then be thy voice sweet in
his ear to praise the king of Selma ! Give him
the sword of Caithbat. Cuthullin is not worthy