The Works of Ossian, the Son of Fingal

winds. He ftruck the boffy shield of kings; at once they cease around. The people lean f forward, from their spears, towards the voice of their land (1).

Sons of Morven, fpread the feaft; fend the night away on fong. Ye have shone around me, and the dark ftorm is paft. My people are the windy rocks, from which I spread my eagle wings, when I rush forth to renown, and feize it on its field. Offian, thou haft the fpear of Fingal: it is not the staff of a

(1) Before I finish my notes it may not be altogether improper to obviate an objection, which may be made to the credibility of the story of Temora, as related by Offian. It may be asked, whether it is probable, that Fingal could perform fuch actions as are afcribed to him in this book, at an age when his grandfon, Ofcar had acquired fo much reputation in arms. To this it may be answered, that Fingal was but very young [book 4th] when he took to wife Ros-crana, who foon after became the mother of Offian. Offian was also extremely young when he married Ever-allin, the mother of Ofcar. Tradition relates, that Fingal was but eigh teen years old at the birth of his fon Offian; and that Offian was much about the fame age, when Ofcar, his fon, was born. Ofcar, perhaps, might be about twenty, when he was killed, in the battle of Gabhra; [book ift] fo the age of Fingal when the decifive battle was fougl. between him and Cathmor, was juft fifty-fix years. In thofe times of activity and health, the natural ftrength and vigour of a man was little abated, at such an age; fo that there is nothing improbable in the actions of Fingal, as related in this book.

boy with which he ftrews the thiftle round, young wanderer of the field. No it is the lance of the mighty; with which they ftretched forth their hands to death. Look to thy fathers, my fon; they are awful beams.

With morning lead Ferad artho forth to the echoing halls of Temora. Remind him of the kings of Erin; the ftately forms of old. Let not the fallen be forgot, they were mighty in the field. Let Carril pour his fong, that the kings may rejoice in their mift. To-morrow Ifpread my fails to Selma's shaded walls; where ftreamy Duthula winds through the feats of roes.

END of TEMORA,