Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

^82 TEMORA :
battle ? But I cannot lift the spear ! O had mine
arm the strength of Cuthullin, soon would Cairbar
fly ; the fame of my fathers would be renewed ; and
the deeds of other times ! "
He took his bow. The tears flow down, from
both his sparkling eyes. Grief saddens round. The
bards bend forward, from their hundred harps. The
lone blast touched their trembling strings. The
sound * is sad and low ! A voice is heard at a dis-
tance, as of one in grief. It was Carril of other
times, who came from dark Slimoraf. He told of
the fall of Cuthullin, He told of his mighty deeds.
The people were scattered round his tomb. Their
arms lay on the ground. The}' had foi'got the war ;
for he, their fire, was seen no more !
" But who," said the soft-voiced Carril, " who
come like bounding roes ? Their stature is like
young trees in the valley, growing in a shower !
Soft and ruddy are their checks ! Fearless souls
look forth from their eyes ! Who but the sons of
Usnoth I, chief of streamy Etha .'' The people rise
*Tliat prophetic sound, mentioned in other poems, whicli
the harps of the barda emitted before the death of a person
■worthy and renowned. It is here an omen of the death of
Cormac, which, soon after, followed.
t Slimora, a hill in Connaught, near which Cuthullin was
killed.
t Usnoth, chief of Elba, a district on the western coast of