Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

310 The Poems of Ossian.
arise. But nish not too far, my hero : let the gleam
of thy steel be near to Ossian. Let our hands join
in slaughter. Gaul ! dost thou not behold that
rock ? Its grey side dimly gleams to the stars.
Should the foe preA^ail, let our back be towards the
rock. Then shall they fear to approach our spears;
for death is in our hands !"
I struck thrice my echoing shield. The starting
foe arose. We rushed on in the sound of our arms.
Their crowded steps fly over the heath. They
thought that the mighty Fingal was come. The
strength of their arms withered away. The sound
of their flight was like that of flame, when it rushes
through the blasted groves. It was then the spear
of Gaul flew in its strength ; it was then his sword
arose. Cremor fell ; and mighty Leth. Dun-
thormo struggled in his blood. The steel rushed
through Crotho's side, as bent he rose on his spear ;
the black stream poured from the wound, and hissed
on the half-extinguished oak. Cathmin saw the steps
of the hero behind him : he ascended a blasted tree ;
but the spear pierced him from behind. Shrieking,
panting, he fell. Moss and withered branches
pursue his fall, and strew the blue arms of Gaul.
Such were thy deeds, son of Morni, in the first
of thy battles. Nor slept the sword by thy side,
thou last of Fingal's race ! Ossian rushed forward
in his strength; the people fell before him; as the
grass by the staff of the boy, when he whistles
along the field, and the gi'ey beard of the thistle
falls. But careless the youth moves on ; his steps
are towards the desert. Grey morning rose around
us ; the winding streams are bright along the heath.
The foe gathered on a hill ; and the rage of Lath-
mon rose. He bent the red eye of his wrath : he
is silent in his rising grief. He often struck his
bossy shield ; and his steps are unequal on the heath.
I saw the distant darkness of the hero, and I spoke
to Morui's son.