Ossian Collection > Works of Ossian, the son of Fingal > Volumes 3 and 4

124 T E M O R A; Book IV.
King of Erin , faid the youth > now is the
time of feafts. Bid the voice of bards arife ,
and roil the night away. The foul returns,
from fong, more terrible to war. — — Dark-
jiefs fettles on Inis-fail: from hill to hill bend
the ikirted clouds. Far and grey , on the
heath, the dreadful ftrrdes of ghofts are feen:
the ghofts of thofe who fell, bend forward to
their fong. Bid thou the harps to riie,
and brighten the dead , on their wandering
blafts.
Be all the dead forgot , faid Foldath's
burfting wrath. Did not I fail in the Held,
and fhall I hear the fong ? Yet was not my
courfe harmlefs in battle: blood was a ftream
around my fteps. But the feeble were behind
me , and the foe has efcaped my fword. -^
In Clon-ra's vnle touch thou the harp; let Du-
ra anfwer to thy voice-, while fome maid looks,
from the wood, on thy long, yellow locks. —
Fly from Lubar's ecchoing plain : it is the
field of heroes.
King of Temora ■^), Malthos faid, it is
thine to lead in war. Thou art a fire to our
eyes ,
*) This fpeech of Malthos is, throughout, a fevere
repriinaxid to the blulteriiig behaviour of Foldath.
It