Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

FINGAL 69
rock came down. I exulted in the strength of the
king. Many were the deaths of my arm ! dismal the
gleam of my sword ! My locks were not then so grey ;
nor trembled my hands with age. My eyes were not
closed in darkness ; my feet failed not in the race I
Who can relate the deaths of the people? Who the
deeds of mighty heroes ? when Fingal, burning in his
wrath, consumed the sons of Lochlin? groans swelled
on groans from hill to hill, till night had covered all.
Pale, staring like a herd of deer, the sons of Lochlin
convene on Lena.* We sat and heard the sprightly
harp, at Lubar's gentle stream. Fingal himself was
next to the foe. He listened to the tales of his bards.
His godlike race were in the song, the chiefs of other
times. Attentive, leaning on his shield, the king of
Morven sat. The wind whistled through his locks ;
his thoughts are of the days of other years. Near him,
on his bending spear, my young, my valiant Oscar
stood. He admired the king of Morven : his deeds
were swelling in his soul !
"Son of my son," begun the king, "O Oscar, pride
of youth ! I saw the shining of thy sword. I gloried
in my race. Pursue the fame of our fathers ; be thou
what they have been, when Trenmor lived, the first of
men, and Trathal the father of heroes! They fought
the battle in their youth. They are the song of bards.
O Oscar ! bend the strong in arm 1 but spare the
feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides against
the foes of thy people ; but like the gale that moves the
grass, to those who ask thine aid. So Trenmor lived ;
such Trathal was ; and such has Fingal been. My
arm was the support of the injured ; the weak rested
behind the lightning of my steel.
" Oscar ! I was young like thee, when lovely Faina-
* It appears that Fingal had driven Lochlin from hill to hill,
over four or five miles of country, from Carmona to the banks or
Lubar — Six-mile water. C.