Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

152 THE BATTLE OF LOIIA :
is the king among his chiefs ! he is like the dark-
ened moon, amidst the meteors of night ; when
they sail along her skirts, and give the light that
has failed o'er her orb." " Come," said Fingal,
" from thy hall, come, daughter of my love :
come from thy hall, Bosmiiia *, maid of streamy
IMorveii ! Nartmor, take the steeds of the strait-
gers. Attend the daughter of Fingal ! Let her
bid the king of Sora to our feast, to Selma's
shaded wall. Oft'er him, O Bosmina ! the peace
of heroes, and the wealth of generous Aldo, Our
youths are far distant. Age is on our trembling
hands ! "
She came to the host of Erragon, like a beam
of light to a cloud. In her right hand was seen
a sparkling shell. In her left an arrow of gold.
The first, the joyful mark of peace ! The latter
the sign of war. Erragon brightened in her pre-
sence as a rock, before the sudden beams of the
sun ; when they issue from a broken cloud, di-
vided by the roaring wind !
" Son of the distant Sora," began the mildly
blushing maid, *' come to the feast of INIorven's
king, to Selma's shaded walls. Take the peace
of heroes, O v.arrior ! Let the dark sword rest
• Bos-mliina, soft and tender hand. She was the
yoiuitrest of Fincal's children.