Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

BookVI. AN EPIC POEM. 293
Rife on thy waves again, thou noble friend of
Agandecca ! Spread thy white fails to the
beam of the morning ; return to the echoing
hills of Gormal ." " Bleft be thy foul, thou
king of fhells, ,s faid Swaran of the dark-brown
fhield. " In peace thou art the gale of fpring.
In war the mountain-ftorm. Take now my
hand in friendfhip, king of echoing Selma !
Let thy bards mourn thofe who fell. Let
Erin give the fons of Lochlin to earth. Raife
high the mofly ftones of their fame : that the
children of the north hereafter may behold the
place where their fathers fought. The hunter
may fay, when he leans on a moffy tomb, here
Fingal and Swaran fought, the heroes of other
years. Thus hereafter fhall he fay, and our
fame fhall laft for ever !"
c< Swaran," faid the king of hills, " to--
day our fame is greateft. We fhall pafs away
like a dream. No found will remain in our
fields of war. Our tombs will be loft in the
heath. The hunter fhall not know the place
of our reft. Our names may be heard in
fong. What avails it when our ftrength had
ceafed ? O Oflian, Carril, and Ullin ! you
know of heroes that are no more. Give us
the fong of other years. Let the night pafs
away on the found, and morning return with
We gave the fong to the kings. An hun-
dred harps mixed their found with our voice,
The face of Swaran brightened, like the full
u 3 moon