Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian, the son of Fingal

F IN G A L. 27
of Semo. It bends behind like a wave near a rock; like the gold-
en mist of the heath. Its sides are embossed with stones, and
sparkle like the sea round the boat of night. Of polished yew is
its beam, and its seat of the smoothest bone. The sides are reple-
nished with spears j and the bottom is the footstool of heroes. Be-
fore the right side of the car is seen the snorting horse. The high-
maned, broad-breasted, proud, high-leaping, strong steed of the
hill. Loud and resounding is his hoof; the spreading of his mane
above is like that stream of smoke on the heath. Bright are the
sides of the steed, and his name is Sulin-Sifadda.
" Before the left side of the car is seen the snorting horse. The
dark-maned, high-headed, strong-hoofed, fleet, bounding son of
the hill: his name is Dusronnal among the stormy sons of the sword.
A thousand thongs bind the car on high. Hard polished bits shine
in a wreath of foam. Thin thongs bright-studded with gems,
bend on the stately necks of the steeds. The steeds tliat like
wreaths of mist fly over the streamy vales. The vv'ildness of deev
is in their course, the strength of the eagle descending on her prey^
Their noise is like the blast of winter on the sides of tlae snov/-
headed Gormal.*
" Within the car is seen tlie chief the strong stormy son of the
sword; the hero's name is CuchuUin, son of Semo king of shells.
His red cheek is like my polished yew. The look of his blue-rol-
Jing eye is wide beneath the dark arch of his brow. His hair flies
from his head like a flame, as bending forward he wields the spear-
Fly, king of oceaij, fly; hecpm.es, like a storm along the sti-eamy
vale."
" When did I fly," replied the king, from the battle of many
spears? " When did I fly, son of Arno, chief of the little soul?
I met the storm of Gormal when the foam of my waves v\'as high ;
I met the storm of the clouds and shall I fly from a hero? Were
it Fingal himself my soul should not darken before him.' — Rise to
the battle, my thousands; pour round me like the echoing main.
Gatlier round the bright steel of your king ; strong as the rocks of
my
* AldUofLochlm.