Skip to main content

‹‹‹ prev (156)

(158) next ›››

(157)
Book III. AN EPIC POEM. 147
blast : a beam of light is Clatho's son. He heard the
words of the king with joy ; and leaned forward on his
spear.
'' My son," said car-borne Fingal ; " I saw thy deeds,
and my soul was glad. The fame of our fathers, I
said, bursts from its gathered cloud. Thou art brave,
son of Clatho ; but headlong in the strife. So did not
Fingiil advance, though he never feared a foe. Let
thy people be a ridge behind ; they are thy strength in
the field. Then shalt thou be long renovv^ned, and be-
hold the tombs of thy fathers. The memory of the
past returns, my deeds in other yeaj-s : when first I de-
scended from ocean on the green valleyed isle.'^ We
bend towards tlie voice of the king. The moon looks
abroad from lier cloud. The grey- skirted mist is near,
tlie dwelling of the ghosts.

Images and transcriptions on this page, including medium image downloads, may be used under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence unless otherwise stated. Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence