Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

FINGAL. 165
course, fled murmuring from our side. Three days we
renewed the strife ; heroes stood at a distance and
trembled. On the fourth, Fingal says, that the king of the
ocean fell ! but Swaran says, he stood ! Let dark Cuthullin
yield to him, that is strong as the storms of his land ! "
"No," replied the blue-eyed chief, " I never yield to
mortal man ! Dark Cuthullin shall be great or dead !
Go, son of Fithil, take my spear. Strike the sounding
shield of Semo. It hangs at Tura's rustling gate. The
sound of peace is not its voice ! My heroes shall hear
and obey." He went. He struck the bossy shield. The
hills, the rocks reply. The sound spreads along the
wood : deer start by the lake of roes. Curach leaps
from the sounding rock ; and Connal of the bloody spear !
Cr 11 gal's breast of snow beats high. The son of Favi
leaves the dark-brown hind. It is the shield of war, said
Ronnar ! the spear of Cuthullin, said Lugar ! son of the
sea put on thy arms ! Calmar lift thy sounding steel !
Puno ! dreadful hero, arise ! Cairbar from thy red tree of
Cromla ! Bend thy knee, O Eth ! descend from the
streams of Lenna. Ca-olt stretch thy side as thou movest
along the whistling heath of Mora : thy side that is white
as the foam of the troubled sea, when the dark winds
pour it on rocky Cuthon.
Now I behold the chiefs, in the pride of their former
deeds ! Their souls are kindled at the battles of old ; at
the actions of other times. Their eyes are flames of fire.
They roll in search of the foes of the land. Their mighty
hands are on their swords. Lightning pours from
their sides of steel. They come like streams from the