J. F. Campbell Collection > Original collection of the poems of Ossian, Orrann, Ulin, and other bards, who flourished in the same age

A HEROIC POEM. 113
of their breath were like the wind in Ard-ven : our
old heroes and every maid lamented the dismal
strife. But Toscar called to his mind the dirk, a
\veapon dear to the hero. Nine wounds he made
in the side of Daol, a short time before the battle
ceased. Like the sound of a hammer in strong
hands, was the rage of conflict among the host ;
with eager desire, pushing forward toward Ossian
at every stroke, in the victorious battle, of his
mighty hand. Fifty shields did Ossian break
upon the heath, pushing in liis might toward the
hardy Cormag; and fifty blue blades of steel did
Cormag, the son of Airth, break upon my back.
I beheaded the valiant Cormag on the field of
battle. I moved to the hall of Fingal, with the
head by the hair in my hand. I led Evir to the
palace of the king, where joyfid was the n)usic,
the song, and the feast. As my father was always
wont to do, she was caressed with kindness and
hospitality.
Ulin and thebards began, in harmonious strains,
to sing of my valiant deeds in the strife: how that
the noise of my arms was like the stream of Lara,
in time of the flood, or as the lightning in the
clouds; or as the spirit of Loda flying in the fierce
storm ; or as the speatof the mountains bounding
in white foam over the rocks, tearing trees from
their roots. They said the strength of my hand
was like an aged oak on IMorven; and that the
hardness of mv steel and mail was like the rock