Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

CATH-LODA 19
hawks of heaven. They came, from all their winds, to
feast on Annir's foes. Swaran I Fingal is alone,* on
his hill of night. Let thy spear pierce the king in
secret ; like Annir my soul shall rejoice.
"Son of Annir," said Swaran, "I shall not slay in
shades. I move forth in light : the hawks rush from
all their winds. They are wont to trace my course : it
is not harmless thro' war."
Burning rose the rage of the king. He thrice raised
his gleaming spear. But, starting, he spared his son ;
and rushed into the night. By Turthor's stream a cave
is dark, the dwelling of Corban-càrgla. There he laid
the helmet of kings, and called the maid of Lulan ; but
she was distant far, in Loda's resounding hall.
Swelling in his rage, he strode, to where Fingal lay
alone. The king was laid on his shield, on his own
secret hill.
Stern hunter of shaggfy boars I no feeble maid is laid
before thee. No boy, on his ferny bed, by Turthor's
murmuring stream. Here is spread the couch of the
mighty, from which they rise to deeds of death. Hunter
of shaggy boars, awaken not the terrible !
Starno came murmuring on. Fingal arose in arms.
"Who art thou, son of night?" Silent he threw the
spear. They mixed their gloomy strife. The shield of
Starno fell, cleft in twain. He is bound to an oak.
The early beam arose. It was then Fingal beheld the
king. He rolled awhile his silent eyes. He thought of
other days, when white-bosomed Agandecca moved like
the music of songs. He loosed the thong from his hands.
Son of Annir, he said, retire. Retire to Gorraal of shells ;
* Fingal, according to the custom of the Caledonian kings,
had retired to a hill alone, as he himself was to resume the
command of the army the next day. Starno might have some
intelligence of the king's retiring, which occasions his request to
Swaran, to stab him ; as he foresaw, by his art of divination,
that he could not overcome him in open battle.