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

OINA-MORUL. 20T
Nor was it long before I met the chief,
Who grasp'd my hand, and spoke these words in
ffrief.
&•
You call, brave warriors, on a man o'erconie.
When foes beleasjer his deserted dome.
Ton-thormod, in Sar-dronlo, holds his reign,
A land like this, encompass'd by the main.
Whose warlike natives long employed our arms ;
Till by my daughter, Oina-Morurs charms,
Their leader smit; he sought her for a bride:
Bat hating the connection, I denied.
At this enraged, his fury nought can stand,
W^ith fire and sword he ravages the land:
You only come to witness our o'erthrow.
And see these towr's invested by the foe.
Fear not, said I, for Morven's sons are bold;
Like boys they come, not battles to behold.
Though from this isle our country lies remote,
The king of Selma has not yet forgot,
/When by a tempest forc'd upon your shores.
You led him friendly to these regal tow'rs:
Nor did a gloomy cloud thy face appear.
Thy board regal'd, thy music charm'd his ear.
The favour to requite, he bade us sail,
And in thy canse to perish or prevail.
Undaunted chief of Trenmor's noble line.
Thy words are like Cruth-Ioda's voice divine.