Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian, the son of Fingal

ruE WAR OF INIS-THONA.
Cormalo : on the fourth my Argon fought. But who could fight
with Argon ? Land's chief was overcome. His heart swelled with
the grief of pride, and he resolved in ^cret to behold the death
of my sons. They went to the hills of Runa, and pursued the
dark-brown hinds. The arrow of G^rmalo flew in secret ; and
my children fell. He came to the maid of his love \ to Inis-thona's
dark-haired maid. They fled over the desart, and Annir remained
alone. Night came on and day appeared ; nor Argon's voice, nor
Ruro's came. At length their much loved dog is seen; the fleet
and bounding Runar. He came into the hall and howled •, and
seemed to look towards the place of their fall. We follov/ed him:
we found them here : and laid them by this mossy stream. This
is the haunt of Annir, when the chase of the hinds is over. I
bend like the trunk of an aged oak above them : and my tears for
ever flow."
" O Ronnan !" said the rising Oscar, *< Ogar king of spears f
call my heroes to my side, the sons of streamy Morven. To-day
we go to Lano's water, that sends forth the cloud of death.
Cormalo will not long rejoice : deatli is often at the point of our
swords."
They came over the desart like stormy clouds, when the winds
roll them over the heath: their edges are tinged with lightning:
and the echoing groves foresee the storm. The horn of Oscar's
battle was heard ; and Lano shook in all its waves. The children
of the lake convened around the sounding shield of Cormalo.
Oscar fought, as he was wont in battle. Cormalo fell beneath
his sword : and tlie sons of the dismal Lano fled to their secret
vales. Oscar brought the daughter of Inis-thona to Annir's echo-
ing halls. The face of age was bright with joy ; he blest the
king of swords.
How great was the joy of Ossian, .when he beheld the distant sail
of his son ! it was like a cloud of light that rises in the east, whea
the traveller is sad in a land unknown; and dismal night, with
her ghosts, is sitting around him. We brought him, with songs,
to Selma's halls. Fingal ordered the feast of shells to be spread.
A thousand bards raised the name of Oscar: and Morven an-
swered