Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

312 L A T H M O N:
the heath. They thought that the mighty
Fingal was come. The ftrength of their arms
withered away. The found of their flight
was like that of flame, when it rufhes through
the blafted groves. It was then the fpear of
Gaul flew in its ftrength ; It was then his fword
arofe. Cremor fell ; and mighty Leth. Dun-
thormo ftruggled in his blood. The fteel
ruihed through Crotho's fide, as bent, he rofe
on his fpear ; the black ftream poured from
the wound, and hifTed on the half-extinguifhed
oak. Cathmin faw the fteps of the hero be-
hind him, he afcended a blafted tree ; but
the fpear pierced him from behind. Shriek-
ing, panting, he fell. Mofs and withered
branches purfue his fall, and ftrew the blue
arms of Gaul.
Such were thy deeds, fon of Morni, in the
firft of thy battles. Nor flept the fword by
thy fide, thou laft of Fingal's race ! Offian
ruihed forward in his ftrength ; the people fell
before him ; as the grafs by the ftaflf of the
boy, when he whiftles along the field, and the
grey beard of the thiftle falls. But carelefs
the youth moves on ; his fteps are towards
the defert. Grey morning rofe around us \
the winding ftreams are bright along the heath.
The foe gathered on a hill ; and the rage of
Lathmon rofe. He bent the red eye of his
wrath : he is filent in his rifing grief. He
often (truck his bofly fhield ; and his fteps are
unequal on the heath. I faw the diftant dark-
nefs of the hero, and I fpoke to Morni's fon.
13 " Gas-