Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

250 temora: ,
He strode onward, uith the sound of his sliield.
My voice pursued him as he went, " Can the son
of Morni fall, without his fame in Erin ? but the
deeds of the mighty are forgot by themselves. They
rush careless over the fields of renown. Their words
are never heard ! " I rejoiced over the steps of the
chief. I strode to the rock of the king, where he
sat, in his wandering locks, amid the mountain-
wind !
In two dark ridges bend the hosts, toward each
other, at Lubar. Here Foldath rises a pillar of
darkness : there brightens the youth of Fillan.
Each, with his spear in the stream, sent forth the
voice of war. Gaul struck the shield of Selma.
At once they plunge in battle ! Steel pours its
gleam on steel : like the lall of streams shone the
field, when they mix their foam together, from two
dark-browed rocks ! Behold he comes, the son of
fame ! He lays the people low ! Deaths sit on
blasts around him ! Warriors strew thy paths, O
Fillan !
Rothmar *, the shield of warriors, stood between
two chinky rocks. Two oaks, which winds had
bent from high, spread their branches on cither
side. He rolls his darkening eyes on Fillan, and,
* Roth-mar, the sound of the seu hcfure a storm. Drn-
manard, high ridge. Cul-iuin. soft-huireii. CuU-alliiij bemt-
tijul iocks, Strutlia, streamy river.