Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

360 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
death, to the paths of the foe. The virgins wept, by
the streams of Ullin. They looked to the mist of the
hill: no hunter descended from its folds. Silence
darkened in the land. Blasts sighed lonely on grassy
tombs.
' Descending like the eagle of heaven, with all liis
rustling winds, when he forsakes the blast, Avith jdv,
the son of Trenmor came ; Conar, arm of death, from
Morven of the groves. He poured his might along
green Erin. Death dimly strode behind his sword. The
sons of Bolga fled from his course, as from a stream,
that, bursting from the stormy desert, rolls the fields
together, with all their echoing woods. Crothar met
him in battle : but Alnecma's warriors fied. The king i
of Atha slowly retired, in the grief of his soul. He i
aftei-wards shone in the south ; but dim as the sun of
autumn ; when he visits, in his robes of mist, Lara of
dark streams. The withered gi-ass is covered with
dew : the field, though bright, is sad.'
* Why wakes the bard before me,' said Cathmor,
* the memory of those who fled ? Has some ghost, from
his dusky cloud, bent forward to thine ear ; to frighten
Cathmor from the field, with the tales of old ? Dwellers j
of the skirts of night, your voice is but a blast to me : |
which takes the gray thistle's head, and strews its j
beard on streams. Within my bosom is a voice. :
Others hear it not. His soul forbids the king of Erin
to shrink back from war.' j
Abashed the bard sinks back on night : retired he *
bends above a stream. His thoughts are on the days ;
of Atha, when Cathmor heard his song with joy. His ,
tears come roUing down. The wnnds are in his beard.
Erin sleeps around. No sleep comes down on Cath-
mor'seyes. Dark,in his soul,hesaw the spirit of low-
laid Cairbar. He saw him, without his song, rolled in
a blast of night. He rose. His steps were round
the host. He struck, at times, his echoing shield.
The sound reached Ossian's ear on Mora's mossy
brow.
' FUlan,' I said, 'the foes advance. I hear the
shield of war. Stand thou in the narrow path. Os-
sian shall mark their course. If over my fall the host