Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

300 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
souls of warriors brighten with joy. But the king of
Lochlin is silent. Sorrow reddens in the eyes of his
pride. He often turned toward Lena. He remem-
bered that he fell. Fingal leaned on the shield of his
fathers. His gray locks slowly v»'aved on the wind,
and glittered to the beam of night. He saw the grief
of Swaran, and spoke to the first of bards.
' Raise, Ullin, raise the song of peace. soothe my
soul from war ! Let mine ear forget, in the sound, the
dismal noise of arms. Let a hundred harps be near
to gladden the king of Loohhn. He must depart
from us with joy. None ever went sad from Fingal,
Oscar ! the lightning of my sword is against the stiong
in fight. Peaceful it lies by my side when warriors
yield in war.'
' Trenmor,' said the mouth of songs, ' lived in the
days of other years. He bounded over the waves of
the north : companion of the storm ! The high rocks
of the land of Lochlin, its groves of murmuring sounds,
appeared to the hero through mist; he boimd his
white-bosomed sails. Trenmor pursued the boar that
roai-ed through the woods of Gormal. Many had llud
from its presence ; but it rolled in death on the spcai
of Trenmor. Three chiefs, who beheld the deed, told
of the mighty stranger. They told that he stood, like
a pillar of fire, in the bright arms of his valour. The
king of Lochlin prepared the feast. He called the
blooming Trenmor. Three days he feasted at Gormal's
windy towers, and received his choice in the combat.
The land of Lochlin had no hero that yielded not to
Trenmor. The shell of joy went round with songs in
praise of the king of Morven. He that came over the
waves, the first of mighty men.
' Now when the fourth gray mom arose, the hero
launched his ship. He walked along the silent shore,
and called for the rushing wind : for loud and distant
he heard the blast murmuring behind the groves. Co-
vered over with arms of steel, a son of the woody Gor-
mal appeared. Red was his cheek, and fair his hair.
His skin was like the snow of Morven. Mild rollod
his blue and smiling eye, when he spoke to the kiiic
of swords. *