Ossian Collection > Morison's edition of the Poems of Ossian, the son of Fingal

50 TEMORA
Duth-caron. Far-diftant ftotxl the youth, and
turned away his eyes; for he remembered the fteps
of his father, on his own green hills. I darkened
in my place : dufky thoughts rolled over my foul.
The kings of Erin rofc before me. I half-un-
fheathed my fword. Slowly approached the chiefs ;
they lifted up their filent eyes. Like a ridge of
clouds, they wait for the burfting forth of my
voice : it was to them, a wind from heaven, to roll
the mill away.
*' I bade my whitQ fails to i:Ile, before the roar
of Cona's wind. Three hundred youths looked,
from their waves, on Fingal's boffy fhield. High
on the mall: it hung, and marked the dark-blue
lea. But when the night came down, I ftruck, at
times, the warning bofs : I ftruck, and looked on
high, for fiery-haired Ul-erin ^ . Nor wanting
was the ftar of heaven : It travelled red between
the clouds : I purfued the lovely beam, on the
faint-gleaming deep. With morning, Erin rofe in
mift. We came into the bay of Moi-lena, when ,
its blue watet-s tumbled, in the bofom of echoing
woods. Here Cormac, in his fecret hall, avoided
the ftrength of Col-cuUa. Nor he alone avoids the
foe : the blue eye of Ros-crana is there ; Ros-
Crana "^ , white-handed maid, the daughter of the
king.
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