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disputes run high about giving battle to the enemy
The ghost of Crugal
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- The armies engage, but night coming on, leaves the
  victory undecided
- "Arise," said the youth, "Cuthullin, arise. I see the ships of the north! Many,
  chief of men, are the foe. Many the heroes of the sea-borne Swaran!" "Moran!" replied the blue-eyed chief, "thou ever tremblest, son of Fithil! Thy fears have increased the foe. It is Fingal, king § of deserts, with aid to green Erin of streams."
- "I beheld their chief," says Moran, "tall as a glittering rock. His
- spear is a blasted pine. His shield the rising moon! He sat on the shore! like a cloud of mist on the silent hill!
- Many, chief of heroes! I said, many are our hands of war. Well art thou named, the mighty man; but many mighty men are seen from Tura's windy walls."
- He went. He struck the bossy shield. The hills, the rocks reply. The sound spreads along the wood: deer
  start by the lake of roes. Curach * leaps from the sounding rock; and Connal of the bloody spear! Crugal's † breast of snow beats high. The son of Favi leaves
  the dark-brown hind. It is the shield of war, said Ronnart; the spear of Cuthullin, said Lugar! Son of the sea, put on thy arms!
- Now I behold the chiefs, in the pride of their former deeds! Their souls are kindled at the battles of old; at the actions of other times. Their eyes are flames of fire. They roll in search of the foes of the land. Their mighty hands are on their swords. Lightning pours from their sides of steel. They come like streams from the mountains; each rushes roaring from the hill.
- Cairbar came and said; "take, Brassolis, this shield of blood. Fix it on high within my hall, the armour of my foe!" Her soft heart beat against her side. Distracted, pale, she flew. She found her youth in all his blood; she died on Cromla's heath. Here rests their dust, Cuthullin! these lonely vews sprung from their tombs, and shade them from the storm
- foretels the defeat of Cuthullin in the next battle;
- The battle begins, and is obstinately fought for some time, until, upon the
  flight of Grumal, the whole Irish army gave way
- attributes his ill success to the death of Ferda, his
  friend, whom he had killed some time before.
- His eyes are two decaying flames. Dark is the wound of his breast! "Crugal," said the mighty Connal, son of Dedgal famed on the hill of hinds! "Why so pale and sad, thou breaker of shields? Thou hast never been pale for fear! What disturbs the departed Crugal?" Dim, and in tears he stood, and stretched his pale hand over the hero. Faintly he raised his feeble voice, like the gale of the reedy Lego!
- PLEASANT are the words of the song," said Cuthullin, "lovely the tales of other times! They are like the calm dew of the morning on the hill of roes! when the sun is faint on its side, and the lake is settled and blue in the vale. O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma: which was sung in my halls of joy, when Fingal, king of shields, was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers.
- The king, who had observed the gallant behavior of his grandson Oscar, gives him advice concerning his conduct in peace and war. He recommends to him to place the example of his fathers before his eyes, as the best model for his conduct; which introduces the episode concerning Fainasollis, the daughter of the king of Craca, whom Fingal had taken under his protection in his youth.
- "The battle is past," said the king. "I behold the blood of my friends. Sad is the heath of Lena! mournful the oaks of Cromla! The hunters have fallen in their strength: the
  
  BOOK III. AN EPIC POEM. 247
  
  son of Semo is no more! Ryno and Fillan, my sons, sound the horn of Fingal. Ascend that hill on the shore; call the children of the foe. Call them from the grave of Lamderg, the chief of other times. Be your voice like that of your father, when he enters the battles of his strength. I wait for the mighty stranger. I wait on Lena's shore for Swaran. Let him come with all his race; strong in battle are the friends of the dead!"

02 Jan 08

James MacPherson's Ossian: (Cath-Loda, etc.)

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