Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

FINGAL. 247
"Where, Carril," said the great Fingal, " Carril of
other times ! Where is the son of Semo, the king of the
isle of mist? has he retired like the meteor of death, to
the dreary cave of Tura? " "Cuthullin," said Carril of
other times ! "lies in the dreary cave of Tura. His hand
is on the sword of his strength. His thoughts on the
battles he lost. Mournful is the king of spears ; till now
unconquered in war. He sends his sword to rest on the
side of Fingal : for, like the storm of the desert, thou
hast scattered all his foes. Take, O Fingal ! the sword
of the hero. His fame is departed like mist, when it
flies, before the rustling wind, along the brightening
vale. "
" No :" replied the king, " Fingal shall never take his
sword. His arm is mighty in war : his fame shall never
fail. Many have been overcome in battle ; whose renown
arose from their fall. O Swavan ! king of resounding
woods, give all thy grief away. The vanquished, if
brave, are renowned. They are like the sun in a cloud,
when he hides his face in the south, but looks again on
the hills of grass !
" Grumal was a chief of Cona. He fought Ihe battle
on every coast. His soul rejoiced in blood ; his ear in
the din of arms. He poured his warriors on Craca ;
Craca's king met him from his grove : for then, within
the circle of Brumo,* he spoke to the stone of power.
Fierce was the battle of the heroes, for the maid of the
breast of snow. The fame of the daughter of Craca had
* This passage alludes to the religion of the King of Craca.