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

40 T E M O R A :
At once he dropt the gleciming lance. Growing before me feemed
the form. He ftretched his hand in night; and fpoke the words
of kings.
Friend of the fpirits of heroes, do I meet thee thus in fliades?
I have willied for thy ftately fteps in Athn, in the days of feafts. —
Why fl:iou!d my fpear now arlfe ? The fun muft behold us, Ofnan;
when we bend, gleaming, in the ftrife. Future warriors fliall mark
the place : and, fliuddering, think of other years. They flTall
mark it, like the haunt of ghofts, pleafant and dreadful to the
foul.
And fliall it be forgot, I faid, where we meet in peace ? Is the
remembrance of battles always pleafant to the foul ? Do not we
behold, with joy, the place where our fathers feafted ? But our
eyes are full of tears, on the field of their wars. — This flone fliall
rife, with all its mofs, and fpeak to other years. "Here Cathmor
and Oflian met! the warriors met in peace!" — When thou, O
ftone, flialt fail : and Lubar's ftream roll quite away ! then fliall the
traveller come, and bend here, perhaps, in reft. When the dark-
ened moon is rolled over his head, our fliadowy forms may come,
and, mixing with his dreams, remind him of this place. But why
turneft thou fo dark away, fon of Borbar-duthul * r
Not forgot, fon of Fingal, fliall we afcend thefe winds. Our
deeds are ftreams of light, before the eyes of bards. But darknefs
is rolled on Atha : the king is low, without his fong : ftill there
* Bo.-bar-duthul, the furly uarricr of the by Malthos, toward the end of the fixth
dark-brown eyes. That his name fuited well book. He was the brother of that Colcul-
with his character, we may eauly conceive, la, who is mentioned in the epifode which
from the ftory delivered concerning him, begins the fourth book.
2 was