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

AN EPIC POEM. 75
in the beauty of youth, the love of heroes lay.
Dark bending, from the fkirts of the wood, her
wounded father came. He appeared, at times,
then feemed as hid in mift. Burfting into tears
fhe rofe : fhe knew that the chief was low. To
■her came a beam from his foul when folded in its
ftorms. Thou wert the laft of his race, blue-eyed
Dardu-lena !
Wide-fpreading over echoing Lubar, the flight
of Bolga is rolled along. Fillan hung forward on
their fteps ; and flrcAved, with dead, the heath.
jFingal rejoiced over his fon, Blue-fhielded Cath-
mor rofe.
Son P of Alpin, bring the harp : give Fillan's
praife to the wind : raife high his praife, in my
hall, while yet he fhines in war.
Leave, blue eyed Clatho, leave thy hall. Behold
that early beam of thine. The hofl: is withered in
its courfe. No further look — it is dark. Lights
trembling from the harp, ftrike, virgins, ftrike the
found. No hunter he defcends, from the dewy
haunt of the bounding roe. He bends not his bow
on the wind ; or fends his gray arrow abroad.
Deep-folded in red war, the battle rolls againft
his fide. Or, ftriding midft the ridgy ftrife, he
pours the deaths of thoufands forth. Fillan is like
Vol. IL K a fpirit