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

56 TEMORA
mor in his echoing field. It was the white-armed
Sul-malla : fecret Ihe dwelt beneath her helmet.
Her lieps were in the path of the king ; on hinj
her blue eyes rolled with joy, when he lay by his
roaring flrcams. But Cathmor thought, that, on
Lumon, flie ftill purfued the roes : or fair on a
rock, ftretched her white hand to the wind ; to
feel its conrfe from Inis-fail the green dwelling of
her love. He had promifed to return, with his
whitc-bofomed fails. The maid is near thee, king
of Atha, leaning on her rock.
The tall forms of the chiefs flood around : all
but dark-browed Foldath ' . He ftood beneath a
difcant tree, rolled into his haughty foul. His'
bufliy hair whiftle'; in wind. At times, burfts the
hum of a fong. He ftruck the tree, at length, in
wrath ; and ruflied before the king. Calm and
ftately, to the beam of the oak, arofe the form of
Voung Hidalla. His hair falls round his bluilaing
rhe^'k, in \frreaths of waving light. Soft was his
voice in Clon-ra '", in the valley of his fathers ;
when he touched the harp, in the hall, near his
roaring dreams.
<' King of Erin," faid the youth, " now Is the
time of feafls. Bid the voice of bards arifc, and
roll the night away. The foul returns, from fong,
more terribl-" to v.'ar. Darknefs fettles on Inis-
fail;