Ossian Collection > Fingal

foam of his seas. Here let him praise the trembling
harp , and hear the songs of heroes ! „
Old Carril went with softest voice. He called
the king of dark -brown shields! "Rise, from the
skins of thy chase , rise , Swaran , king of groves '.
CuthuUin gives the joy of shells. Partake the feast
of Erin's bine- eyed chief! ,, He answered like the
sullen sound of Cromla before a storm. "Though
all thy daughters, Inis-fail, should stretch their
arms of snow, should raise the heavings of their
breasts , and softly roll their eyes of love, yet fixed
as Lochlin's thousand rocks here Swaran should
remain , till morn , with the young beams of the
east, shall light me to the death of CuthuUin.
Pleasant to my ear is Lochlin's wind! It rushes
over my seas ! It speaks aloft in all my shrouds,
and brings my green forests to my mind : "the green
forests of Gormal, which often echoed to my winds
when my spear was red in the chase of the boar.
Let dark CuthuUin yield to me the ancient throne
of Cormae , or Erin's torrents shall show from their
hills the red foam of the blood of his pride ! „
"Sad is the sound of Swaran's voice,,, said
Carril of other times! "Sad to himself alone,,,
said the blue -eyed son of Semo. "But, Carril,
raise the voice on high ; tell the deeds of other
times. Send thou the night away in song, and
give the joy of grief. For many heroes and maids
of love have moved on Inis-fail, and lovely are
the song of woe that are heard in Albion's rocks,
when the noise of the chase in past, and the streams
of Cona *) answer to the voice of Ossian. »
' In other days, „ Carril replies, "came the sons
of ocean to Eriii; a thousand vessels bounded on
waves to UUin's lovely plains. The sons of Inis-
fail arose to meet the'race of dark- brown shields.
Cairbar, first of men, was there, and Grudar,
stately youth ! Long had they strove for the spotted
bull that lowed on Golbun's echoing heath. Each
claimed him as his own. Death was often at the
point of their steel. Side by side tlie heroes fought ;
*) The Cona here mentioned is that small river that runs
through Glenco in Argyleshire.