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

A P O E M. 207
Fingal is alone *, on his hill of night. Let thy fpcar pierce the
king in fccret ; like Annir, my foul fliall rejoice.
Son of Annir of Gormal, Swaran fliall not flay in fliades. I
move forth in light : the hawks rufli from all their winds. They
are wont to trace my courfe : it is not harmlefs thro' war.
Burning rofe the rage of the king. He thrice raifed his
gleaming fpear. But, fiarting, he fpared his fon ; and ruflied in-
to the night. — By Turthor's ftream a cave is dark, the dwelling of
Conban-carglas. There he laid the helmet of kings, and called
the maid of Lulan, but flie was difl:ant far, in Loda's refounding
hall.
Swelling in his rage, he flirode, to where Fingal lay alone.
The king was laid on his fliield, on his own fecret hill. — Stern
hunter of fliaggy boars, no feeble maid is laid before thee ; no
boy, on his ferny bed, by Turthor's murmuring fliream. Here is
fpread the couch of the mighty, from which 'hey rife to deeds of
death. Hunter of fliaggy boars awaken not the terrible,
Starno came murmuring on, Fingal arofe in arms, " Who
art thou, fon of night ? " Silent he threw the fpear. They mixed
their gloomy flirife. The fliield of Starno fell, cleft in twain. He
is bound to an oak. The early beam arofe. — Then Fingal beheld
the king of Gormal, He rolled a while his filent eyes. He thought
* Fi.ngal, according to the cuflom of king's retiring, which occafions his requefl
the Caledonian kings, bad retired to a hill to Swaran, to ftab him ; as he forefaw, by
^one, as Je himfelf was to reiume the his art of divination, that he cculd not
ccmmiind of the army the next day. Star- overcome him in open battle,
no might have fome intelligence of the
of