Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

LATHMON. 365
thy battles. Nor slept the sword by thy side, thou
last of Fingal's race ! Ossian rushed forward in his
strength ; the people fell before him ; as the grass by
the staff of the boy, when he whistles along the field,
and the gray beard of the thistle falls. But careless
the youth moves on ; his steps are towards the desert.
Gray morning rose around us ; the winding streams
are bright along the heath. The foe gathered on a
hill ; and the rage of Lathmon rose. He bent the red
eye of his wrath : he is silent in his rising grief. He
often struck his bossy shield : and his steps are unequal
on the heath. I saw the distant darkness of the hero,
and I spoke to IMorni's son.
" Car-borne chief of Strumon, dost thou behold the
foe ? They gather on the hill in their wrath. Let our
steps be toward the king.* He shall rise in his strength,
and the host of Lathmon vanish. Our fame is around
us, warrior ; the eyes of the agedf will rejoice. But
let us fly, son of Morni, Lathmon descends the hill."
" Then let our steps be slow," replied the fair-haired
Gaul ; " lest the foe say with a smile, ' Behold the
warriors of night ! They arc, like ghosts, terrible in
darkness ; they melt away before the beam of the east.'
Ossian, take the shield of Gormar, who fell beneath
thy spear. The aged heroes will rejoice, beholding
the deeds of their sons."
Such were our words on the plain, when Sulmath
came to car-borne Lathmon : Sulmath chief of Datha,
at the dark-rolling stream of Duvranna. " Why dost
thou not rush, son of Nudth, with a thousand of thy
heroes ? Why dost thou not descend with thy host
before the warriors fly ? Their blue arms are beam-
ing to the rising light, and their steps are before us ou
the heath !"
* Fiogal. t Fingal and Morni.
31*