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

An epic poem. 67
is thy fame my fon : but flrong are the foes of Erin. They are
like the roar of ftreams in the land, fon of car-borne Comhal.
Yet they may be rolled* away, I faid in my rifing foul. We
are not of the race of the feeble, king of blue-fliielded hofts.
Why fliould fear come amongfl us, like a ghoft of night ? The
foul of the valiant grows, as foes increafe in the field. Roll no
darknefs, king of Erin, on the young in war.
The burfting tears of the king came down. He feized my hand
in filence. " Race of the daring Trenmor, I roll no cloud be-
fore thee. Thou burnelT: in the fire of thy fathers. I behold thy
fame. It marks thy courfe in battles, like a flream of light. ■
But wait the coming of Cairbar -f- : my fon muft join thy fword.
He calls the fons of Ullin, from all their diflunt ftreams."
We came to the hall of the king, where it rofe in the midft of
Tocks: rocks, on whofe dark fides, were the marks of flreams of old.
Broad oaks bend around with their mofs : the thick birch waves
its green head. Half-hid, in her Hiady grove, Ros-crana raifed the
fong. Her white hands rofe on the harp. I beheld her blue-roll-
• Cormac had faid that the foes were murdered by Cairbar the fon of Bo:bar-
Me the r:ar of Jlreamsy and Fingal coiui- duthiil. — Cairbar, the fon of Cormac, long
nues the metaphor. The fpeech of the after his fon Artho was grown to man's
young hero is fpirited, and conliftent wirh cflate, had, by his wife Beltanno, another
that fedate intrepidity, which eminently fon, whofe name was Ferad-artho. — He
diflinguiflies his charaf.er throughout. was the only one remaining of the race of
+ Cairbar, the fon of Cormac, was af- Conar the firfi: king of Ireland, when Fin-
terwatds king of Ireland. His reign was gal's expedition againft Cairbar the fon of
fliort. He was fucceeded by his fon Ar- Borbar-duthul happened. See more of
tho, the father of that Cormac who was Ferad artho in the eighth book.
K 2 ing