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

A P O E M. 23
his people , or thou thyfelf mufl fall. It fh?.Ii
never be told in my hails, that my warriors fell
in my prefence; that they fell in the preience
of Lathmon, when his fword refted by his fide :
the blue eyes of Cutha ■^) would roll in tears,
and her fleps be lonely in the vales of Dun-
lathmon.
Neither fhall it be told, I replied, that
the fon of Flngal fled. Were his fl;eps covered
with daiknefs, yet would not Ollian fly; his
foul would meet him and fay, "Does the bard
of Selma fear the foe?" No, he does not fear
the foe. His joy is in the midfl of battle.
Lathmon came on with his fpear , and
pierced the fhield of OfTian. I felt the cold
fleel at my fide; and drew the fword of Mor-
ni : 1 cut the fpear ii^ twain ; the bright point
fell glittering- on the ground. The fon of
Nuath burnt in his wrath , and lifted high his
founding fhield. His dark eyes rolled above
it, as bending forward, it fhone like a gate
of brafs. But Oflian's fpear pierced the brlght-
nefs
*) Cntha appears to have been Lathmon's \^ ife o--
mifticls.
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