Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

PINGAL. 287
flamed over the slain. They fled amain through Lena's
heath. We pursued and slew. As stones that bound
from rock to rock ; as axes in echoing woods ; as thun-
der rolls from hill to hill, in dismal broken peals ; so
blow succeeded to blow, and death to deatli, from the
hand of Oscar and mine.
But Swaran closed round Momi's son, as the
strength of the tide of Inistore. The king half-rose
from his hil! at the sight. He half-assumed the spear.
' Go, Ullin, go, my aged bard,' begun the king of
Morveu. ' Remind the mighty Gaul of war. Remind
him of his fathers. Support the yielding fight with
song; for song enlivens war.' Tall Ullin went, with
step of age, and spoke to tlie king of swords. ' Son
of the chief of generous steeds ! high-bounding king
of spears! Strong arm in every perilous toil ! Hard
heart that never yields! Chief of the pointed arms
of death! Cut down the foe ; let no white sail boimd
round dark Inistore. Be thine arm like thunder,
thine eyes like fire, thy heart of solid rock. Whirl
round thy sword as a meteor at night; lift thy shield
like the flame of death. Son of the chief of generous
steeds, cut down the foe ! Destioy !' The hero's heart
beat liigh. But Swaran came with battle. He cleft
the shield of Gaul in twain. The sons of Selma fled.
Fingal at once arose in arms. Thrice he reared his
dreadful voice. Cromla answered around. Tlie sons
of the desert stood still. They bent tlieir blushing
faces to earth, ashamed at the presence of the king.
He came like a cloud of rain in the day of the sun,
when slow it rolls on the hUl, and fields expect the
shower. Silence attends its slow progress aloft; but
the tempest is soon to arise. Swaran beheld the ter-
rible king of Morven. He stopped in the midst of his
course. Dark he leaned on his spear, rolling his red
eyes around. Silent and tall beseemed as an oak on
tiie banks of Lubar, which had its branches blasted of
old by the lightning of heaven. It bends over the
stream: the gray moss whistles in the wind: so stood
the king. Then slowly he retired to the rising heath
of Lena. His thousands poxir around the hero. Dark-
! ness gathers on the liill !