J. F. Campbell Collection > Temora, an ancient epic poem, in eight books

J02 T E M O R A:
As tlie rock of Runo, which takes the paffing clouds for its
robe, feems growing, in gathered dafknefs, over the ftreamy heath ;
fo feemed the chief of Atha taller, af gathered his people round.
—As different blafts fly over the fea, each behind its dark-blue
wave, fo Cathmor's words, on every fide, poured his warriors forth.
— Nor filent on his hill is Fillan ^ he mixed his words with' his
echoing fhicld. An eagle he feemed, with founding wings, calling
the wind to his rock, when he fees the coming forth of the; roes,
on Lutha's * rufliy field.
Now they bent forward in battle : death's hundred voices rofe;
for the kings, on either fide, were like fires on the fouls erf" the
people. — I bounded along j high rocks and trees rufhed tall between
the war and me. — But I heard the noife of fteel, -between my clang-
ing arms. Rifing, gleaming, on the hill, I beheld the backward
fleps of hoflrs : their backward fteps, on either fide, and wildly-look-
ing eyes. The chiefs were met in drea'dful fight ; the two blue-
fhielded kings. Tall and dark, thro' gleams of fteel, are feen the
ftriving heroes. — I ruflied. — My fears for Fillan flew, burning acrofs
my foul.
I CAME; nor Cathmor fled; nor yet advanced: he fidelong
ftalked along. An icy rock, cold, tall he feemed. I called forth
all my fl:eel. — Silent awhile we flrode, on either fide of a rufliing
flream : then, fudden turning, all at once, we raifed our pointed
fpears. — We raifed our fpears, but night came down. It is dark
* Lutha was the name of a valley in ther of Malvina, who, upon that account,
Morven, in the days of Ollian. There is often called the maid of Lutha, Lu-
dweit Tofcar the fon of Conloch, the fa- tha fignifies /u //? yT/w//;.
and