Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 2

473
AVliere their children lift the spear.
Or shall our lullaby arise at first "
To him who lifts the spear no more —
310 The slayer of people in the glen —
Him from Moma of many woods 1 "
" I forget not the darkeuer of battles,
Thou who wert ever chief of bards ;
His stone shall be raised by Lubar of cairns,
315 A dwelling for Folda and his fame.
But pour my soul on the time of heroes,
On the years in which they rose
Over warlike Inuis-huna's wave.
Not pleasant to Ca-mor alone is
320 Memory of Lumon, green isle of hosts —
Lumon, the land of rivers.
Glad abode of white-bosomed maidens."
" Lumon of rivers,''
Thou shinest on my soul ;
325 Thy sun is on thy side,
On the rock of stately trees.
Thy dark dun hind, (and)
Thy great-antlered stag in thy woods,
Behold on the hill
330 The stanch fleet-footed dog.
Slow on the plain
inor is the remembrance of ■wood-covered Lumon — Lumon of the
streams, the dwelling of white-bosomed maids."
" Lumon of the streams, thou risest on Fonar's soul ! Thy sun
is on thy side, on the rocks of thy bending trees. The dun roe is
seen from thy furze : tlie deer lifts his branchy head ; for he sees
at times the hound on the half-covered heath. Slow on the vale
Folda (slain
in battle by
Fillan).
Ca-mor asks
him to sing
of the heroes
of old, and of
their coming
from Innis-
hima, or
Lumou, to
Erin.
Fonnar begins
an address
to Lumon,
describing its
beauty.