Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

278 OSSIAN
shall not Cathmor depart. No boy in the field was he,
who only marks the bed of roes, upon the echoing hills.
My issuing forth was with kings. My joy in dreadful
plains : where broken hosts are rolled away, like seas
before the wind."
So spoke the king of Alnecma, brightening in his
rising soul. Valour, like a pleasant flame, is gleaming
within his breast. Stately is his stride on the heath.
The beam of east is poured around. He saw his grey
host on the field, wide-spreading their ridges in light.
He rejoiced, like a spirit of heaven, whose steps come
forth on the seas, v/hen he beholds them peaceful round,
and all the winds are laid. But soon he awakes the
waves, and rolls them large to some echoing shore.
On the rushy bank of a stream, slept the daughter
of Inis-huna. The helmet had fallen from her head.
Her dreams were in the lands of her fathers. There
morning is on the field. Grey streams leap down from
the rocks. The breezes, in shadowy waves, fly over
the rushy fields. There is the sound that prepares for
the chase. There the moving of warriors from the hall.
But tall above the rest is seen the hero of streamy
Atha. He bends his eye of love on Sul-malla, from his
stately steps. She turns, with pride, her face away, and
careless bends the bow.
Such were the dreams of the maid, when Cathmor of
Atha came. He saw her fair face before him, in the midst
of her wandering locks. He knew the maid of Lumon.
What should Cathmor do ? His sighs arise. His tears
come down. But straight he turns away. " This is no
time, king of Atha, to awake thy secret soul. The
battle is rolled before thee, like a troubled stream."
He struck that warning boss,* wherein dwelt the
voice of war. Erin rose around him, like the sound of
* In order to understand this passage, it is necessary to look
to the description of Cathmor's shield in the seventh book. This
shield had seven principal bosses, the sound of each of