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

ri4 T E M O R A.
*Ci. UN-GALO came; flie mifTed the maid. — Where art thou,
beam of light ? Hunters, from the mofly rock, faw you the blue-
eyed fair ? — Are her fleps on grafly Lumon ; near the bed of roes ?
— Ah me ! I behold her bow in the hall. Where art thou, beam
of light ?
•f Cease, love of Conmor, ceafe; I hear thee not on the ridgy
heath. My eye is turned to the king, whofe path is terrible in war.
He for whom my foul is up, in the feafon of my reft. — Deep-bo-
fomed in war he ftands, he beholds me not from his cloud. — Why,
fun of Sul-malla, dofl: thou not look forth ? — I dwell in darknefs
here ; wide over me flies the fliadowy mift. Filled with dew are
my locks : look thou from thy cloud, O fun of Sul-malla's foul. —
* Clun-galo, zvhite inef, the wife of
Conmor, king of Inis-huna, and the mo-
ther of Sul-malla. She is here reprefent-
ed, as miffing her daughter, after fhe had
fled with Cathmor. This fong is very-
beautiful in the original. The expredive
cadences of the meafiire are inimitably
fuited to the fituation of the mind of Sul-
malla.
t Sul-malla replies to the fuppofed quef-
tions of her mother. Towards the mid-
dle of this paragraph flie calls Cathmor
the fun of her foul, and continues the meta-
phor throughout. Thofe, who deliver this
fong down by tradition, fay that there is a
part of the original loff. — This book ends,
we may fuppofe, about the middle of the
third night, from the opening of the poem.
TEMORA: