Ossian Collection > Fingal

A P O E M. 229
Its gray fide dimly gleams to the (lars. If the foe
fhall prevail, let our back be towards the rock.
Then Ihall they fear to approach our fpears; Ibr
death is in our hands.
I STRUCK thrice my echoing fhield. The
Parting foe arofe. We rufhed on in the found of
our arms. Their crouded fleps fly over the heath ;
for they thought that the mighty Fingal came ;
and the ftrength of their arms withered away. The
found of their flight was like that of a flame, when
it rufhcs through the blafl:ed groves.
It was then the fpear of Gaul flew in its ftrength ;
it was then his fword arofe. Cremor fell ; and
mighty Leth. Dunthormo ftruggled in his blood.
The fleel ruflied through Crotho's fide, as bent,
lie rofe on his fpear ; the black ftream poured from
the wound, and biffed on the half-extinguiflied
oak. Cathmin favv^ the fleps of the hero behind
him, and afcended a blafl:ed tree ; but the fpear
pierced him from behind. Shrieking, panting,
he fell ; mofs and withered branches purfue his
fall, and fl:rew the blue arms of Gaul.
Such were thy deeds, fon ofMorni, in the firll:
of thy battles. Nor flept the fword by thy fide,
thou laft of Fingal's race ! Oifian ruflied forward
in his Itrerigth, and the people fell before him ?
as the grafo by the flaff of the boy, v/hen he
whiftles along the field, and the gray beard of the
thiflle falls. But carelefs the youth moves on ;
his fteps are tov/ards the defart.
Gray morning rofe around us, the winding
flreams are bright along the heath. The foe ga-
thered on a hill ; and the rage of Lathmon rofe.
He bent the red eye of his wrath : he is filent in
his nfmg grief He often ffruck his boffy fhield ;
and his fleps arc unequal on the heath. I faw the
difl:ant darknefs of the hero, and I fpoke to Mor-
ni's fon. Car-bo rke