Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

A POEM. 115
ful are the banks of Lego ; and the roar of
streamy Lara ! There the hero fell, son of the
noble Usnoth ! " " The hero fell in the midst
of slaughter," I said with a bursting sigh. "His
hand was strong in war. Death dimly sat be-
hind his sword."
^^'e came to Lego's sounding banks. We found
his rising tomb. His friends in battle are there :
his bards of many songs. Three days we mourn-
ed over the hero : on the fourth, I struck the
shield of Caithbat. The heroes gathered around
with joy, and shook tiicir beamy spears. Cor-
lath was near with his host, the friend of car-
borne Cairbar. We came like a stream by night.
His heroes fell before us. AVhen the people of
the valley rose, they saw their blood with morn-
ing's light. But we rolled away, like wreaths of
mist, to Cormac's echoing hall. Our swords
rose to defend the king. But Temora's halls
were empty. Cormac had fallen in his youth.
I'he king of Erin was no more !
Sadness seized the sons of Erin. The}' slowly,
gloomily retired : like clouds that, long having
threatened rain, vanished behind the' hills. The
sons of Usnoth moved, in their grief, towards
Tura's sounding bay. \S^ passed by Selama.