Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

AV EPIC POEM'. 163
aged oaks, surround a narrow plain. The blue
course of a stream is there. On its banks stood
Cairbar * of Atha. His spear supports the king:
the red eye of his fear is sad. Cormac rises in
his soul, with all his ghastly wounds. The grey
form of the 3f0uLh appears in darkness. Blood
pours from his airy side. Cairbar thrice threw
his spear on earth. Thrice he stroakcd his beard.
His steps ai*e short. He often stops. He tosses
his sinewy arms. He is like a cloud in the de-
sert, varying its form to every blast. The val-
lies are sad around, and fear, by turns, the show-
er ! The king, at length, resumed his soul. He
took his pointed spear. He turned his eye to
Moi-lena. The scouts of blue ocean came. They
came with steps of fear, and often looked behind.
Cairbar knew that the mighty were near ! He
called his gloomy chiefs.
The sounding steps of his warriors came. They
* Cairbar, the son of Borbar-duthulj was descended
lineally from Lathon, the chief of the Firbolg, the first
colony who settled in the south of Ireland. The Gael
•were in possession of the northern coast of that kingdom,
and the first monarclis of Ireland were of their race.
Hence arose those differences between the two nations,
which terminated, at last, in the murder of Cormac, and
the usurpation of Cairbar, lord of Atha, who is men-
tioned in this place.