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

An epic poem. 123
Again the fhield refounds ! — She ruflied. — She ilopt. — Her
voice half-rofe. It failed. — She faw him, amidft his arms, that
gleamed to heaven's fire. She faw him dim in his locks, that role
to nightly wind. — Away, for fear, flie turned her fteps. " Why
fhould the icing of Erin awake ? Thou art not the dream of his
reft, daughter of Inis-huna."
More dreadful rung the fhield. Sul-malla ftarts. Her helmet
falls. Loud-echoed Lubar's rock, as over it rolled the fteel. — Burft-
ing from the dreams of night, Cathmor half-rofe, beneath his tree.
He faw the form of the maid, above him, on the rock. A red
ftar, with twinkling beam, looked thro' her floating hair.
* Who comes thro' night to Cathmor, in the feafon of his
dreams ? Bring'ft thou ought of war ? Who art thou, fon of night ?
— Stand'ft thou before me, a form of the times of old f A voiee
from the fold of a cloud, to warn me of Erin's danger ?
Nor lonely fcout am I, nor voice from folded cloud : but I warn
thee of the danger of Erin. Doft thou hear that found ? It is
not the feeble, king of Atha, that rolls his figns on night.
advanced parties of the enemy, and re- them. To prevent the obfcurify, which
joined his own army. The bard has given this might occafion, I have, fometimes,
a catalogue of the Scotch tribes, as they ufed the freedom to do it in the tranflation.
marched to battle ; but, as he did not live In the prefect dialogue between Cathmor
near the time of Keneth, his accounts aj-e and Sul-malla, the fpeeches are fo much
to be little depended on. marked with the chara(5lers of the fpeaJc-
* The rapid manner of Ollian does ers, that no interpolation is necefTary to
not often allow him to mark the fpeeches diftinguifh them from one another.
Y-ith the names of the perfons who fpesk
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