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

142 T E M O R Ar
ghofts ; for there, I fall forward, m battle, in the folds of war.
Before dun night defcends, come to high Dunmora's top. Look,
from the grey folds of mift, on Lena of the ftreams. If there my
ftandard fliall fioat on wind, over Lubar's gleaming ftream, then ha$
not Fingal failed in the laft of his fields.
Such were his words; nor aught replied the filent, ftriding king?.
They looked fide-long, on Erin's holt, and darkened, as they went.
— Never before had they left the king, in the midft of the ftormy
field. — Behind them, touching at times his harp, the grey-haired
Carril moved. He forefaw the fall of the people, and mournful
was the found ! — It was like a breeze that comes, by fits, over Le-
go's reedy lake; when fleep half-defcends on the hunter, within his
mofiy cave.
Why bends tlie bard of Cona, faid Fingal, over his fecret flream ?
— Is this a time for forrow, father of low-laid Ofcar ? Be the war-
riors * remembered in peace ; when echoing ihields are heard no
more.
* Ofcar and Fillan are here, emphati- mentioned in Offian's compofitions. She,
cally called il:e ucnisrs. Offian was not fitting alone, in the vale of Moi lutha, is
forgetful of them, when, to ufe his own ex- repref^nted as defcrying, at a diftance, ths
prcflion, peace returned to the land. His fhip which carried the body of Ofcar to
plaintive poems, concerning the death of IMorven.
thefe young heroes, were very numerous. " Malvina islike the bow of ihefbower,
I had occafion, in a preceding note, to in the fecret valley of flreams ; it is bright,
give a tranflasion of one of them, (a dia- but the drops of heaven are rolling on its
logue between Clatho and Bos-mina) in blended light. They fay, that I am fair
this I fl:all lay before the reader a fragment w thin my locks, but, on my brightntfs, is
of another. The greatcfl, and, perhaps, the wandering of tears. Darkr.efi .flies over
the mod interesting part of the poem, is my foul, as the dufky wave of the breeze,
loft. What remain?, is a f.ililoquy of along the grjfs of Lutha Yet have not
Malvina, the daughter of Tofcr.r, fo often the roes failed me, wli;n I movcj between
7 the