Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

H& FINGAL.
land of many hills. The desert is enough to me, with
all its deer and woods. Rise on thy waves again, thou
noble friend of Agandecca ! Spread thy white sails to
the beam of the morning ; return to the echoing hills of
Gormal." "Blest be thy soul, thou king of shells,"
said Swaran of the dark-brown shield. " In peace thou
art the gale of spring. In war the mountain-storm.
Take now my hand in friendship, king of echoing
Selma ! Let thy bards mourn those who fell. Let Erin
give the sons of Lochlin to earth. Raise high the mossy
stones of their fame : that the children of the north here-
after may behold the place where their fathers fought.
The hunter may say, when he leans on a mossy tomb,
here Fingal and Swaran fought, the heroes of other
years. Thus hereafter shall he say, and our fame shall
last for ever ! "
"Swaran," said the king of hills, " to-day our fame is
greatest. We shall pass away like a dream. No sound
will remain in our fields of war. Our tombs will be lost
in the heath. The hunter shall not know the place of
our rest. Our names may be heard in song. What avails
it when our strength hath ceased ? O Ossian, Carril, and
Ullin ! you know of heroes that are no more. Give us
the song of other years. Let the night pass away on the
sound, and morning return with joy."
We gave the song to the kings. An hundred harps
mixed their sound with our voice. The face of Swaran
brightened, like the full moon of heaven ; when the
clouds vanish away, and leave her calm and broad in the
midst of the sky I