Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian, the son of Fingal > Volume 2

^10 TEMORA, S:c. BookVIlT,
. " Sons of Morv-en spread the least ; send the night
away on song. Ye have shone around me, and "the
dark storm is past. My people are the windy rocks,
from which I spread my eagle win^s, Avhen I rush forth
to renown, and seize it on its field, Ossian, thou hast
the spear of Finga.1 : it is not the staff of a boy with
which he strews the thistle round, young w:inderer of
the field. No : it is the lance of the mighty, with
which they stretched forth their hands to death. Look
to thy fathcx-s, my son ; they are awiiJ beams. Widi
morning hvl Ferad-artho forth to the echoing halls of
Temora. Rer .iad him gf tl)e kings of Erin : the state-
ly forms of old. Let c,:it the fallen be forgot; they
were mighty in the £eld. Let Carril pour his song,
that the kings may rejoice- in their mist. To-morrov/
I spread my sails to Selma's shaded walls ; where
streamy Duthula winds through the seals of roes."
and health, the natural strength and vigour of a man was little abat«
«d, at such an age ; so that iliere is nothing imprubabiw i;; the itc»
t;crni of F^figal, as related in tlui book.