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TEMORA. 437
I guard the dark-rolling of ocean; that Fingal may
' not escape from my sword. He must lie on earth.
Beside some fen shall his tomb be seen. It shall
■ rise -without a song. His ghost shall hover, in
mist, over the reedy pool."
Malthos heard, with darkening doubt. He rolled
his silent eyes. He knew the pride of Foldath. He
' looked up to Tingal on his hills : then darkly turn-
; ing, in doubtful mood, he plunged his sw. rd in war.
I In Clono's narrow vale, where bend two trees
t above the stream, dark, in his grief, stood Duthno's
! silent son. The blood pours from the side of Der-
mid. His shield is broken near. His spear leans
! against a stone. Why, Dermid, why so sad? " I
fhear the roar of battle. My people are alone. My
- steps are slow on the heath ; and no shield is mine.
Shall he then prevail ? It is then after Dermid is
low! I will call thee forth, O Foldath! and meet
thee yet in fight."
; He took his spear, with dreadful joy. The son
of Morni came. " Stay, son of Duthno, stay thy
speed. Thy steps are marked with blood. No bossy
shield is thine. Why shouldest thou fall un-
armed?" — "Son of Morni! givethou thy shield. It
has often rolled back the war. I shall stop the
chief in his course. Son of Morni! behold that
stone ! It lifts its grey head through grass. There
'dwells a chief of the race of Dennid. Place me
•fliere in night."
i He slowly rose against the hill. He saw the trou-
bled field: the gleaming ridges of battle, disjoined
and broken around. As distant fires, on heath by
•night, now seem as lost in smoke ; now rearing
their red streams on the hill, as blow or cease the
winds, so met the intermitting war the eye of
broad-shielded Dermid. Through the host are the
strides of Foldath, like some dark ship on wintry
waves, when she issues from between two isles to
sport on resounding ocean!
I Dermid, with rage, beholdshis course. He strives
to rush along. But he fails amid his steps; and the
big tear comes down. He sounds his father's horn.
He thrice strikes his bossy shield. He calls thrice
I guard the dark-rolling of ocean; that Fingal may
' not escape from my sword. He must lie on earth.
Beside some fen shall his tomb be seen. It shall
■ rise -without a song. His ghost shall hover, in
mist, over the reedy pool."
Malthos heard, with darkening doubt. He rolled
his silent eyes. He knew the pride of Foldath. He
' looked up to Tingal on his hills : then darkly turn-
; ing, in doubtful mood, he plunged his sw. rd in war.
I In Clono's narrow vale, where bend two trees
t above the stream, dark, in his grief, stood Duthno's
! silent son. The blood pours from the side of Der-
mid. His shield is broken near. His spear leans
! against a stone. Why, Dermid, why so sad? " I
fhear the roar of battle. My people are alone. My
- steps are slow on the heath ; and no shield is mine.
Shall he then prevail ? It is then after Dermid is
low! I will call thee forth, O Foldath! and meet
thee yet in fight."
; He took his spear, with dreadful joy. The son
of Morni came. " Stay, son of Duthno, stay thy
speed. Thy steps are marked with blood. No bossy
shield is thine. Why shouldest thou fall un-
armed?" — "Son of Morni! givethou thy shield. It
has often rolled back the war. I shall stop the
chief in his course. Son of Morni! behold that
stone ! It lifts its grey head through grass. There
'dwells a chief of the race of Dennid. Place me
•fliere in night."
i He slowly rose against the hill. He saw the trou-
bled field: the gleaming ridges of battle, disjoined
and broken around. As distant fires, on heath by
•night, now seem as lost in smoke ; now rearing
their red streams on the hill, as blow or cease the
winds, so met the intermitting war the eye of
broad-shielded Dermid. Through the host are the
strides of Foldath, like some dark ship on wintry
waves, when she issues from between two isles to
sport on resounding ocean!
I Dermid, with rage, beholdshis course. He strives
to rush along. But he fails amid his steps; and the
big tear comes down. He sounds his father's horn.
He thrice strikes his bossy shield. He calls thrice
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Early Gaelic Book Collections > Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > (485) |
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Permanent URL | https://digital.nls.uk/77994291 |
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Description | Selected books from the Ossian Collection of 327 volumes, originally assembled by J. Norman Methven of Perth. Different editions and translations of James MacPherson's epic poem 'Ossian', some with a map of the 'Kingdom of Connor'. Also secondary material relating to Ossianic poetry and the Ossian controversy. |
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Description | Selected items from five 'Special and Named Printed Collections'. Includes books in Gaelic and other Celtic languages, works about the Gaels, their languages, literature, culture and history. |
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