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

142 C A T H . L O D A :
Tretimor was there , with his psQple, ftate*
ly in youthful locks. He faw the advancing
foe. The grief of his foul arofe. . He bade the
chiefs to lead, by turns: they led, but they
were rolled away. From his own mofly
hill, blue-fhielded Treiimor came down. He
led wide-ildrted battle, and the ftrangers fail-
ed. Around him the dark -browed warriors
came : they ftruck the fhield of joy. Like a
pleafant gale , the words of power rufhed forth
from Selma of kings. But the chiefs led , by
turns, in war, till mighty danger rofe : then
was the hour of the king, to conquer in the
field.
"Not unknown , faid Cromma - glas * ) of
Shields > are the deeds cf our fathers. But
who
*j 111 tradition, this Cromn;a^- gias inakes a great
figure in that battle, which Comhal loll, together
with his life, to the tribe of Morni* I have juft
now , ill my hands , an Irifh compofition , of a
very modern date , as appears from the language,
ill which all the traditions, concerning that decei-
ve engagement, are jumbled together. In juftice
to the merit of the poem, I fhould have here
prefented to the reader a translation of h, did
wot