Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

424 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
aged steps of Cormac. He smiled, from his waving
locks ; but grief was in his soul. He saw us few be-
fore him, and his sigh arose. ' I see the arms of
Trenmor,' he said; ' and these are the steps of the
king! Fingal ! thou art a beam of light to Cormac's
darkened soul. Early is thy fame, my son : but
strong are the foes of Erin. They are like the roar
of streams in the land, son of car-borne Comhal !'
' Yet they may be rolled away,' I said in my rising
soul. ' We are not of the race of the feeble, king of
blue-shielded hosts ! Why should fear come amongst
us, like a ghost of night ? The soul of the valiant
grows, when foes increase in the field. Roll no
darkness, king of Erin, on the young in war !'
"Tlie bursting tears of the king came down. He
seized my hand in silence. ' Race of the daring
Trenmor!' at length he said, ' I roll no cloud be-
fore thee. Thou burnest in the fire of thy fathers.
I behold thy fame, ]t marks thy course in battle,
like a stream of light. But wait the coming of
Cairbar; my sonmust join thy sword. He calls the
sons of Erin from all their distant streams.'
"We came to the hall of the king, where it rose
in tlie midst of rocks, on whose dark sides were the*
marks of streams of old. Broad oaks bend around
with their moss. The thick birch is waving near.
Half-hid, in her shady grove, Ros-crana raises the
song. Her white hands move on the harp. 1 be-
held her blue rolling eyes. She was like a spirit of
heaven half-folded in the skirt of a cloud !
" Three days we feasted at Moi-lena. She rises'
bright in my troubled soul. Cormac beheld iDc
dark. He gave the white-bosomed maid. She comes
with bending eye, amid the wandering of her heavy
locks. She camel Straight the battle roared. Colc-
ulla appeared : I took my spear. My sword rose,
witli my people, against the ridgy foe. Alnecme
fled. Colc-ulla fell. Fingal returned with fame.
" Renowned is he, O Fillan, who fights, in the
strength of his host The bard pursues his steps,
through the land of the foe. But he who fights
alone, few are his deeds to other times ! He shines,