Ossian Collection > Fingal

A P O E M. . 107
gloomy king. — Spirit of the noble Trennior 1
When will Fingal ceafe to fight? I was born in
the midH: of battles *, and my fteps muft move
in blood to my tomb. But my hand did not in-
jure the weak, my fleei did not touch the feeble
in arms. — I behold thy tempers, O Morven,
^hich will overturn my halls ; when my children
are dead in battle, and none remains to dwell in
Selma. Then will the feeble come, but they
Avill not know my tomb: my renown is in the
fong : and my anions fhall be as a dream to future
times.
His people gathered around Erragon, as tiie
florms round the ghoft of night; when he calls
them from the top of Morven, and prepares to
pour them on the land of the (Iranger. — He came
to the Ihore of Cona, and fent his bard to the
king to demand the combat of thoufands ; or the
land of many hills.
Fingal fat in his hall with the companions of
his youth around him. The young heroes were
at the chafe, and far diflant in the defart. The
grey-hair'd chiefs talked of other times, and of
the adions of their youth ; when the aged Naith-
mor f came, the king of ftreamy Lora.
This is no time, began the chief, to hear the
fongs of other years : Erragon frowns on the coaft,
and lifts ten thoufand fv/ords. Gloomy is the
king among his chiefs! he is like the darkened
moon amidft the meteors of niglu.
Come, fliid Fingal, from thy hall, thou daugh-
ter
* Conihal the Father of Fingal was fltun m battle, ?.-
gairxfl the tribe of Morni, the very day that Fingal waj
born ; fo that he may, with propriety, be faid to have
been l/om in the mid'l ofbntlUs.
t Neart-n:6rh, ^vent J}ren^tb. Lora, nvify.