Ossian Collection > Fingal

154 D A R T II U L A:
the helmet of his fathers on his head. — The battle
grows in his breafi. He ftrives to hide the tear.
Darthula, he fighing faid, thou art the laffc
of Colla's race. Truthil is fallen in battle. The
king * of Selama is no more. — Cairbar comes,
with his thoufands, towards Selarna's walls. —
Co)!a vviil meet his pride, and revenc^e liis Ton.
But where fliall I find thy fafety, Darthula with
the dark-brown hair ! thou art lovely as the fiin«
beam of heaven, and thy friends are low !
And is the fon of battle fallen, I faid with a
burfting figh ? Ceafed the generous foul of Tru-
thil to lighten through the field? — My fafety.^
Coiia, is in that bov/ ; I have learned to pierce-
the deer, h not Cairbar like the hart of the de-
fart, father of fallen Truthil ?
The face of age brightened with joy: and the
crouded tears of his eyes poured down. The lips-
of Colla trembled. His gray beard whiftled in the
blaft. Thou art the filler of Truthil, he faid, and'
thou burnefb in the fire of his foul. Take, Dar-
thula, take tliat fpear, that brazen fhield, that
?)urniflied helmet : they a^re the fpoils of a war-
rior: a fon t of early youth. — When the light rifes
on Selama, we go to meet the car-borne Cairbar.
--But keep thou near the arm of Colla; beneath
the fnadow of my fnield. Thy father, Darthula,
could once defend thee ; but age is trembling on
his hand. — The flrength of his arm has failed,
and his foul is darkened with grief. We
* It it; very- c-ommon, in Oflian's poetry, to give the
title of King to every chief that was remarkable for his
valour.
t The poet, to make the ftory of Darthiila's arming
herfelf for battle, more probable, makes her armour to
be that of a very young man, otherwife it would Ihock all
belief, thr.t fhe., who was very young, fjiouid be able to
" carry it.