Ossian Collection > Temora, an ancient epic poem, in eight books

i42 T E M O R A:
ghofts J for there, I fall forward, in battle, in the folds of war.
Before dun night defcends, come to high Dunmora's top. Look,
from the grey folds of mifl, on Lena of the rtreams. If there my
ftandard fhall lloat on wind, over Lubar s gleaming ftream, then has
not Fingal failed in the laft of his fields.
Such were his words; nor aught replied the filent, flriding kings.
They looked fide-long, on Erin's hoft, and darkened, as they went.
— Never before had they left the king, in the midft of the ftormy
field. — Behind them, touching at times his harp, the grey-haired
Carril moved. He forefaw the fall of the people, and mournful
was the found ! — It was like a breeze that comes, by fits, over Le-
go's reedy lake ; when deep half-defcends on the hunter, within his
mofly cave.
Why bends the bard of Cona, faid Fingal, over his fecret flream ?
— Is this a time for forrow, father of low-laid Ofcar r Be the war-
riors * remembered in peace ; when echoing fliields are heard no
more.
* Ofcar and Fillan are here, emphati- mentioned in Oflian's conipofitions. She,
cally called the uarrion. Ofiian was not fitting alone, in the vale of Moi-lutha, is
forgetful of them, when, to ufe his own ex- reprefcnted as defcrying, at a diftance, the
preflion, peace Tcturned to the land. His fhip which carried the body of Ofcar to
plaintive poems, concerning the death of Morven.
thefe young heroes, were very numerous. " Malvina islike the bow of thefhower,
I had occafion, in a preceding note, to in the fecret valley of flreams ; it is briaht,
give a tranflaiion of one of them, {a dia- but the drops of heaven are roiling on its
logue between Clatho and Bos-mina) in blended light. They fay, that I am fair
this I Ihall lay before the reader a fragment vv.thin my locks, but, on my brifhtnefs, is
of another. The greateft, and, perhaps, the wandering of tears. Darknefs flies over
the moft interefting part of the poem, is my foul, as the dufky wave of the breeze,
loft. What remains, is a foliloquy of along the grafs of Lutha.— Yet have not
Maivina, the daughter of Tofcar, fo often the roes failed me, when I moved between
7 the