Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

LATHMON. 259
"I saw Gaul in his arms ; my soul was mixed with
his. The fire of the battle was in his eyes ! he looked to
the foe with joy. We spoke the words of friendship in
secret ; the lightning of our swords poured together ; for
we drew them behind the wood, and tried the strength
of our arms on the empty air."
Night came down on Morven. Fingal sat at the beam
of the oak. Morni sat by his side with all his grey
waving locks. Their words were of other times, of the
mighty deeds of their fathers. Three bards, at times,
touched the harp : Ullin was near with his song. He
sung of the mighty Comhal ; but darkness gathered on
Morni's brow. He rolled his red eye on Ullin : at once
ceased the song of the bard. Fingal observed the aged
hero, and he mildly spoke. "Chief of Strumon, why
that darkness ? Let the days of other years be forgot.
Our fathers contended in war ; but we meet together, at
the feast. Our swords are turned on the foe of our
land : he melts before us on the field. Let the days of
our fathers be forgot, hero of mossy Strumon ! "
" King of Morven," replied the chief, " I remember
thy father with joy. He was terrible in battle ; the rage
of the chief was deadly. My eyes were full of tears,
when the king of heroes fell. The valiant fall, O
Fingal ! the feeble remain on the hills ! How many
heroes have passed away, in the days of Morni ! Yet I
did not shun the battle ; neither did I fly from the strife
of the valiant. Now let the friends of Fingal rest ; for
the night is around ; that they may rise, with strength, to
battle against car-borne Lathmon. I hear the sound of