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

An epic poem. 89
^jlace : his fhleld Is bloody in the halh — " Art thou fallen, my fair-
haired fon, in Erin's difmal war ? "
As a roe, pierced in fecret, lies panting, by her wonted Areams,
the hunter looks over her feet of wind, and remembers her {lately
bounding before J fo lay the fon of Cul-allin, beneath the eye of
Fillan. His hair is rolled in a little ftream : his blood wandered on
his fliield. Still his hand held the fword, that failed him in the
midft of danger. — Thou art fallen, fuid Fillan, ere yet thy fame
was heard. — Thy father fent thee to war : he expedts to hear thy
deeds. He is grey, perhaps, at his ftreams, and his eyes are to-
wards Moi-lena. But thou flialt not return, with the fpoil of the
fallen foe.
Fillan poured the flight of Erin before him, over the echo-
ing heath. — But, man on man, fell Morven before the dark-red
rage of Foldath ; for, far on the field, he poured the roar of half
his tribes. Dermid * flood before him in wrath : the fons of
Cona gather round. But his fliield is cleft by Foldath, and his
people poured over the heath.
Then faid the foe, in his pride. They have fled, and my fame
begins. Go, Malthos, and bid the king -j- to guard the dark-rolling of
underfland that her fon is killed ; in which bly back on the mind, when we confider,
(he is confirmed by the appearance of his that the fuppofed fituation of the father of
ghoft. — Her fudden and ftiort exclamation, Culmin, was fo fimilar to that of Fingal,
on the occalion, is more affefling than if after the death of Fillan himfelf.
fhe had extended her complaints to a great- * This Dermid is, probably, the fame
er length. The altitude of the fallen Wnh Dermid O duine, who makes fo great
youth, and Fillan's reflexions over him, a figure in the fidlions of the Irilh bards.
are natural and judicious, and come forci- f Cathmor.
N ocean ;