Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

236 TEMORA :
bright in my troubled soul. Cormac beheld me
dark. He gave the white- bosomed maid. She
comes with bending eye, amid the wandering of her
heavy locks. She came ! Straight the battle roar-
ed. Colc-ulla appeared : I took my spear. My
sword rose, with my people, against the ridgy foe.
Alnecma fled. Colc-ulla fell. Fingal returned
with fame.
" Renowned is he, O Fillan ! who fights, in the
strength of his host. The bard pursues his steps,
through the land of the foe. But he who fights
alone ; few are his deeds to other times ! He shines,
to-day, a mighty light. To-morrow, he is low.
One song contains his fame. His name is on one
dark field. He is forgot ; but where his tomb sends
forth the tufted grass."
Such are the words of Fingal, on Mora of the
roes. Three bards, from the rock of Cormul, pour
down the pleasing song. Sleep descends, in the
" Is that a rain-bow on Crunatli ? It flies : and the sky is
dark. Again, tliou movest, bright, on the heath, thou sun-
beam cloathed in a shower ! Hah ! it is she, my love ! her
glidlnp; course on the bosom of winds ! "
In succeeding times the beauty of Ros-crana passed into a
proverb ; and tlie highest compliment, that could be paid to
a woman, was to compare her person with the daughter nf
Cormac.
'S tu fein an Ros-crana.
Siol Chormaec na n'iouia lau.