Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

Bcrrathon. 423
Did my wliite Kand lift the sword? Why then
hast thou left me alone, king of high Finthormo ?'*
The tear started from my eye, when I heard the
voice of the maid. I stood before her in my arms.
I spoke the words of peace. Lovely dweller of the
cave .' what sigh is in thy breast ? Shall Ossiair
lift his sword in thy presence, the destruction of
thy foes ? Daughter of Tor-thoma, rise. I have
heard the words of thy grief. The race of Morven
are around thee, who never injured the weak.
Come to our dark-bosomed ship, thou brighter
than the setting moon ! Our course is to the
rocky Berrathon, to the echoing walls of Fin-
thormo." She came in her beauty ; she came with
all her lovely steps. Silent joy brightened in her
face ; as when the shadows fly from the field of
spring; the blue stream is rolling in brightness^
and the green bush bends over its coui-se !
The morning rose with its beams. We came ta
Rothma's bay. A boar rushed from the wood : my
spear pierced his side, and he fell. I rejoiced over
the blood. I foresaw my growing fame. But now
the sound of Uthal's train came, from the liigh Fin-
thormo. They spread over the heath to the chase of
the boar. Himself comes slowly on, in the pride of
his strength. He lifts two pointed spears. Onhisside
is the hero's sword. Three youths carry his polished
bows. The bounding of five dogs is before him. His
lieroes move on, at a distance, admiring the steps of
the king. Stately was the son of Larthmor ; but
his soul was dark ! Dark as the troubled face of
the moon, when it foretells the storms.
We rose on the heath before the king. He stopt
in the midst of his course. His heroes gathered
around. A grey-haired bard advanced. " '\^Tience
are the sons of the strangers ?" began the bard of
song. ♦• The children of the unhappy come to
Berrathon ; to the sword of car-borne Uthal. He
spreads no feast in his hall. The blood of strangers'