Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

A POEM. 309
let the friends of Fingal reft ; for the night is
around ; that they may rife, with ftrength, to
battle againft car-borne Lathmon. I hear the
found of his hoft, like thunder moving on the
hills. Oflian ! and fair-haired Gaul ! ye are
young and fvvift in the race. Obierve the foes
of Fingal from that woody hill. But ap-
proach them not, your fathers are not near to
ihield you. Let not your fame fall at once.
The valour of youth may fail !"
We heard the words of the chief with joy.
We moved in the clang of our arms. Our
fteps are on the woody hill. Heaven burns
with all its ftars. The meteors of death fly
over the field. The diftant noife of the foe
reached our ears. It was then Gaul fpoke, in
his valour : his hand half unfrieathed his fword.
14 Son of Fingal !" he faid, " why burns
the foul of Gaul ? My heart beats high. My
fteps are difordered ; my hand trembles on my
ivvord. When I look towards the foe, my foul
lightens before me. I fee their fleeping hoft.
Tremble thus the fouls of the valiant in bat-
tles of the fpear ? How would the foul of
Morni rife if we fhould rufh on the foe ! Our
renown would grow in fong : our fteps would
be ftately in the eyes of the brave.''
" Son of Morni," I replied, " my foul de-
lights in war. I delight to fhine in battle
alone, to give my name to the bards. But
what if the foe fhould prevail ; can I behold
the eyes of the king ? They are terrible in
his difpleafure, and like the flames of death,
x 1 Cut