Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

Temora. 405
Ossian : it is folded in mist. I hear thee, O bard I
in my night. But cease the lightly-trembling
sound. The joy of grief belongs to Ossian, amidst
his dark-brown years.
Green thorn of the hill of ghosts, that shakest
thy head to nightly winds, I hear no sound in thee !
Is there no spirit's windy skirt now rustling in thy
leaves? Often are the steps of the dead, in the
dark-eddying blasts ; w^hen the moon, a dun shield,
from the east, is rolled along the sky.
UUin, Carril, and Ryno, voices of the days of
old! Let me hear you, while yet it is dark, to
please and awake my soul. I hear you not, ye sons
of song ! In what hall of the clouds is your rest ?
Do you touch the shadowy harp, robed with morn-
ing mist, where the rustling sun comes forth from
his green-headed waves ?
BOOK VIII.
ARGUAfENT.
The fourth morning, from the opening of the poem, comes on. Fingal,
still continuing in the place to which he had retired on the preceding
night, is seen at intervals, through the mist which co%'ered the rock
of Cormul. The descent of the king is described. He orders Gaul,
Dermid, and Carril the bard, to go to the valley of Cluna, and con-
duct, from thence, to the Caledonian army, Ferad-artho, the son of
Cairbar, the only person remaining of the family of Conar, the first
king of Ireland. The king takes the command of the army, and pre-
pares for battle. Marching towards the enemy, he comes to the cave
ot Lubar, where the body of Fillan lav. Upon seeing his dog Bran,
who lay at the entrance of the cave, his grief returns. Cathmor
arranges the Irish army in order of battle. The appearance of that
hero. The general conflict is described. The actions of Fingal and
Cathmor. A storm. The total rout of the Fir-bolg. The two kings
engage, in a column of mist, on the banks of Lubar. Their attitude
and conference after the combat. The death of Cathmor. Fingal
resigns the spear of Trenmor to Ossian. The ceremonies observed
on that occasion. The spirit of Cathmor, iu the mean time, appears
to Sul-malla, in the valley of Lona. Her sorrow. Evening comes
on. A feiist is prepared. The coming^ of Ferad-artho is announced
by the songs of an hundred bards. The poem closes with a si>eech
of FiugaL
As when the wintry winds have seized the waves
of the mountain lake, have seized them in stormy
night, and clothed them over with ice ; white, to