CARTHON
This
poem
is
compleat
,
and
the
sub
ject
of
it
,
as
of
most
of
Ossian's
composi
tions
,
tragical
.
In
the
time
of
Comhal
the
son
of
Trathal
,
and
father
of
the
cele
brated
Fingal
,
Clessámmor
the
son
of
Thaddu
and
brother
of
Morna
,
Fingal's
mother
,
was
driven
by
a
storm
into
the
river
Clyde
,
on
the
banks
of
which
stood
Balclutha
,
a
town
belonging
to
the
Bri
tons
between
the
walls
.
He
was
hospitably
received
by
Reuthámir
,
the
principal
man
in
the
place
,
who
gave
him
Moina
his
only
daughter
in
marriage
.
Reuda
,
the
son
of
Cormo
,
a
Briton
who
was
in
love
with
Moina
,
came
to
Reuthamir's
house
,
and
behaved
haughtily
towards
Clessámmor
.
A
quarrel
insued
,
in
which
Reuda
was
killed
;
the
Britons
,
who
attended
him
pressed
so
hard
on
Clessámmor
,
that
he
was
obliged
to
throw
himself
into
the
Clyde
,
and
swim
to
his
ship
.
He
hoisted
sail
,
and
the
wind
being
favourable
,
bore
him
out
to
sea
.
He
often
endeavoured
to
return
,
and
carry
off
his
beloved
Moina
by
night
;
but
the
wind
continuing
contrary
,
he
was
forced
to
desist
.
Moina
,
who
had
been
left
with
child
by
her
husband
,
brought
forth
a
son
,
and
died
soon
after
.
—
Reuthamir
named
the
child
Carthon
,
i.
e.
the
murmur
of
waves
,
from
the
storm
which
carried
off
Clessámmor
his
father
,
who
was
supposed
to
have
been
cast
away
.
When
Carthon
was
three
years
old
,
Comhal
the
father
of
Fingal
,
in
one
of
his
expeditions
against
the
Britons
,
took
and
burnt
Balclutha
.
Reuthámir
was
kil
led
in
the
attack
:
and
Carthon
was
carried
safe
away
by
his
nurse
,
who
fled
farther
into
the
country
of
the
Britons
.
Carthon
,
coming
to
man's
estate
was
resolved
to
re
venge
the
fall
of
Balclutha
on
Comhal's
posterity
.
He
set
sail
,
from
the
Clyde
,
and
,
falling
on
the
coast
of
Morven
,
de
feated
two
of
Fingal's
heroes
,
who
came
to
oppose
his
progress
.
He
was
,
at
last
,
un
wittingly
killed
by
his
father
Clessámmor
,
in
a
single
combat
.
This
story
is
the
foundation
of
the
present
poem
,
which
opens
on
the
night
preceding
the
death
of
Carthon
,
so
that
what
passed
before
is
in
troduced
by
way
of
episode
.
The
poem
is
addressed
to
Malvina
the
daughter
of
Tos
car
.
:
A
POEM
.
A
TALE
of
the
times
of
old
!
The
deeds
of
days
of
other
years
!
—
The
murmur
of
thy
streams
,
O
Lora
,
brings
back
the
memory
of
the
past
.
The
sound
of
thy
woods
,
Garmallar
,
is
lovely
in
mine
ear
.
Dost
thou
not
behold
,
Malvina
,
a
rock
with
its
head
of
heath
?
Three
aged
firs
bend
from
its
face
;
green
is
the
narrow
plain
at
its
feet
;
there
the
flower
of
the
mountain
grows
,
and
shakes
its
white
head
in
the
breeze
.
The
thistle
is
there
alone
,
and
shades
its
aged
beard
.
Two
stones
,
half
sunk
in
the
ground
,
shew
their
heads
of
moss
.
The
deer
of
the
mountain
avoids
the
place
,
for
he
beholds
the
gray
ghost
that
guards
it
It
was
the
opinion
of
the
times
,
that
deer
saw
the
ghosts
of
the
dead
.
To
this
day
,
when
beasts
suddenly
start
without
any
apparent
cause
,
the
vulgar
think
that
they
see
the
spirits
of
the
deceased
.
:
for
the
mighty
lie
,
O
Malvina
,
in
the
narrow
plain
of
the
rock
.
A
tale
of
the
times
of
old
!
the
deeds
of
days
of
other
years
!
WHO
comes
from
the
land
of
strangers
,
with
his
thousands
around
him
?
the
sun-beam
pours
its
bright
stream
before
him
;
and
his
hair
meets
the
wind
of
his
hills
.
His
face
is
settled
from
war
.
He
is
calm
as
the
evening
beam
that
looks
,
from
the
cloud
of
the
west
,
on
Cona's
silent
vale
.
Who
is
it
but
Comhal's
son
Fingal
returns
here
,
from
an
expedi
tion
against
the
Romans
,
which
was
cele
brated
by
Ossian
in
a
poem
called
the
strife
of
Crona
.
,
the
king
of
mighty
deeds
!
He
beholds
his
hills
with
joy
,
and
bids
a
thousand
voices
rise
.
—
Ye
have
fled
over
your
fields
,
ye
sons
of
the
distant
land
!
The
king
of
the
world
sits
in
his
hall
,
and
hears
of
his
people's
flight
.
He
lifts
his
red
eye
of
pride
,
and
takes
his
father's
sword
.
Ye
have
fled
over
your
fields
,
sons
of
the
distant
land
!
SUCH
were
the
words
of
the
bards
,
when
they
came
to
Selma's
halls
.
—
A
thousand
lights
Probably
wax-lights
;
which
are
often
mentioned
as
carried
,
among
other
booty
,
from
the
Roman
province
.
from
the
stranger's
land
rose
,
in
the
midst
of
the
people
.
The
feast
is
spread
around
;
and
the
night
passed
away
in
joy
.
—
Where
is
the
noble
Clessámmor
Clessamh
mór
,
mighty
deeds
.
,
said
the
fair-haired
Fingal
?
Where
is
the
companion
of
my
father
,
in
the
days
of
my
joy
?
Sul
len
and
dark
he
passes
his
days
in
the
vale
of
ecchoing
Lora
:
but
,
be
hold
,
he
comes
from
the
hill
,
like
a
steed
Hast
thou
given
the
horse
strength
?
Hast
thou
clothed
his
neck
with
thunder
?
He
paweth
in
the
valley
,
and
rejoiceth
in
his
strength
.
JOB
.
foreign
foreign
,
&c.
HOM.
II
.
6.
The
wanton
courser
thus
with
reins
un
bound
,
Breaks
from
his
stall
,
and
beats
the
trem
bling
ground
;
His
head
,
now
freed
,
he
tosses
to
the
skies
;
His
mane
dishevel'd
o'er
his
shoulders
flies
;
He
snuffs
the
females
in
the
distant
plain
And
springs
,
exulting
.
POPE
.
Qualis
ubi
abruptis
fugit
praesepia
vinclis
Tandem
liber
equus
,
campoque
potitus
aperto
,
—
Ille
in
pastus
armentaque
tendit
equarum
:
—
arrectisque
fremit
cervicibus
altè
Luxurians
,
luduntque
Iubae
per
colla
,
per
ar
mos.
VIRG.
Freed
from
his
keepers
,
thus
with
broken
reins
,
The
wanton
courser
prances
e'or
the
plains
:
Or
in
the
pride
of
youth
o'erleaps
the
mounds
,
And
snuffs
the
females
in
forbidden
grounds
.
—
O'er
his
shoulders
flows
his
waving
mane
:
He
neighs
,
he
snorts
,
he
bears
his
head
on
high
.
DRYDEN
.
in
his
strength
,
who
finds
his
companions
in
the
breeze
;
and
tosses
his
bright
mane
in
the
wind
.
—
Blest
be
the
soul
of
Clessámmor
,
why
so
long
from
Selma
?
RETURNS
the
chief
,
said
Clessámmor
,
in
the
midst
of
his
fame
?
Such
was
the
renown
of
Comhal
in
the
battles
of
his
youth
.
Often
did
we
pass
over
Carun
to
the
land
of
the
strangers
:
our
swords
re
turned
,
not
unstained
with
blood
:
nor
did
the
kings
of
the
world
rejoice
.
—
Why
do
I
remember
the
battles
of
my
youth
?
My
hair
is
mixed
with
gray
.
My
hand
forgets
to
bend
the
bow
:
and
I
lift
a
lighter
spear
.
O
that
my
joy
would
return
,
as
when
I
first
be
held
the
maid
;
the
white
bosomed
daughter
of
strangers
,
Moina
Moina
,
soft
in
temper
and
person
.
We
find
the
British
names
in
this
poem
derived
from
the
Galic
,
which
is
a
proof
that
the
ancient
language
of
the
whole
island
was
one
and
the
same
.
with
the
dark-blue
eyes
!
TELL
,
said
the
mighty
Fingal
,
the
tale
of
thy
youthful
days
.
Sorrow
,
like
a
cloud
on
the
sun
,
shades
the
soul
of
Clessámmor
.
Mournful
are
thy
thoughts
,
alone
,
on
the
banks
of
the
roaring
Lora
.
Let
us
hear
the
sorrow
of
thy
youth
,
and
the
darkness
of
thy
days
.
IT
was
in
the
days
of
peace
,
replied
the
great
Clessámmor
,
I
came
,
in
my
bounding
ship
,
to
Balclutha's
Balclutha
,
i.
e.
the
town
of
Clyde
,
pro
bably
the
Alduth
of
Bede
.
walls
of
towers
.
The
winds
had
roared
behind
my
sails
,
and
Clutha's
Clutha
,
or
Cluäth
,
the
Galic
name
of
the
river
Clyde
,
the
signification
of
the
word
is
bending
,
in
allusion
to
the
winding
course
of
that
river
.
From
Clutha
is
de
rived
its
Latin
name
,
Glotta
.
streams
received
my
dark-bosomed
vessel
.
Three
days
I
remained
in
Reuthámir's
halls
,
and
saw
that
beam
of
light
,
his
daughter
.
The
joy
of
the
shell
went
round
,
and
the
aged
hero
gave
the
fair
.
Her
breasts
were
like
foam
on
the
wave
,
and
her
eyes
like
stars
of
light
:
her
hair
was
dark
as
the
raven's
wing
:
her
soul
was
generous
and
mild
.
My
love
for
Moina
was
great
:
and
my
heart
poured
forth
in
joy
.
THE
son
of
a
stranger
came
;
a
chief
who
loved
the
white-bosomed
Moina
.
His
words
were
mighty
in
the
hall
,
and
he
often
half-unsheathed
his
sword
.
—
Where
,
he
said
,
is
the
mighty
Comhal
,
the
restless
wanderer
The
word
in
the
original
here
rendered
by
restless
wanderer
,
is
Scuta
,
which
is
the
true
origin
of
the
Scoti
of
the
Romans
;
an
opprobrious
name
imposed
by
the
Britons
,
on
the
Caledonians
,
on
account
of
the
con
tinual
incursions
into
their
country
.
of
the
heath
?
Comes
he
,
with
his
host
,
to
Bal
clutha
,
since
Clessámmor
is
so
bold
?
MY
Soul
,
I
replied
,
O
warrior
!
burns
in
a
light
of
its
own
.
I
stand
without
fear
in
the
midst
of
thousands
,
though
the
valiant
are
distant
far
.
—
Stranger
!
thy
words
are
mighty
,
for
Clessammor
is
alone
.
But
my
sword
trembles
by
my
side
,
and
longs
to
glitter
in
my
hand
.
—
Speak
no
more
of
Comhal
,
son
of
the
winding
Clutha
!
THE
strength
of
his
pride
arose
.
We
fought
;
he
fell
beneath
my
sword
.
The
banks
of
Clutha
heard
his
fall
,
and
a
thousand
spears
glittered
around
.
I
fought
:
the
strangers
prevailed
:
I
plunged
into
the
stream
of
Clutha
.
My
white
sails
rose
over
the
waves
,
and
I
bounded
on
the
dark-blue
sea
.
—
Moina
came
to
the
shore
,
and
rolled
the
red
eye
of
her
tears
:
her
dark
hair
flew
on
the
wind
;
and
I
heard
her
cries
.
—
Often
did
I
turn
my
ship
!
but
the
winds
of
the
East
prevailed
.
Nor
Clutha
ever
since
have
I
seen
:
nor
Moina
of
the
dark
brown
hair
.
—
She
fell
in
Balclutha
:
for
I
have
seen
her
ghost
.
I
knew
her
as
she
came
through
the
dusky
night
,
along
the
murmur
of
Lora
:
she
was
like
the
new
moon
Inter
quas
Phoenissa
recens
a
volnere
Dido
Errabat
sylva
in
magna
:
quam
Trious
heros
Ut
primum
juxta
stetit
,
agnovitque
perumbram
Obscuram
,
qualem
primo
qui
surgere
mense
Aut
videt
,
aut
vidisse
putat
per
nubila
lunam
,
&c.
VIRG.
Not
far
from
these
Phoenician
Dido
stood
,
Fresh
from
her
wound
,
her
bosom
bath'd
in
blood
.
Whom
when
the
Trojan
hero
hardly
knew
Obscure
in
shades
,
and
with
a
doubtful
view
,
Doubtful
as
he
who
runs
thro'
dusky
night
,
Or
thinks
he
sees
the
moon's
uncertain
light
,
&c.
DRYD.
seen
through
the
gathered
mist
:
when
the
sky
pours
down
its
flaky
snow
,
and
the
world
is
silent
and
dark
.
RAISE
The
title
of
this
poem
,
in
the
original
,
is
Duan
na
nlaoi
,
i.
e.
The
Poem
of
the
Hymns
:
probably
on
account
of
its
many
digressions
from
the
subject
,
all
which
are
in
a
ly
ric
measure
,
as
this
song
of
Fingal
.
Fin
gal
is
celebrated
by
the
Irish
historians
for
his
wisdom
in
making
laws
,
his
poetical
genius
,
and
his
foreknowledge
of
events
.
—
O'Flaherty
goes
so
far
as
to
say
,
that
Fingal's
laws
were
extant
in
his
own
time
.
,
ye
bards
,
said
the
mighty
Fingal
,
the
praise
of
unhappy
Moina
.
Call
her
ghost
,
with
your
songs
,
to
our
hills
;
that
she
may
rest
with
the
fair
of
Morven
,
the
sun-beams
of
other
days
,
and
the
delight
of
heroes
of
old
.
—
I
have
seen
the
walls
The
reader
may
compare
this
passage
with
the
three
last
verses
of
the
13th
chap
ter
of
Isaiah
,
where
the
prophet
foretels
the
destruction
of
Babylon
.
of
Bal
clutha
,
but
they
were
desolate
.
The
fire
had
resounded
in
the
halls
:
and
the
voice
of
the
people
is
heard
no
more
.
The
stream
of
Clutha
was
removed
from
its
place
,
by
the
fall
of
the
walls
.
—
The
thistle
shook
,
there
,
its
lonely
head
:
the
moss
whistled
to
the
wind
.
The
fox
looked
out
,
from
the
windows
,
the
rank
grass
of
the
wall
waved
round
his
head
.
—
Desolate
is
the
dwelling
of
Moina
,
silence
is
in
the
house
of
her
fathers
.
—
Raise
the
song
of
mourn
ing
,
O
bards
,
over
the
land
of
strangers
.
They
have
but
fallen
before
us
:
for
,
one
day
,
we
must
fall
.
—
Why
dost
thou
build
the
hall
,
son
of
the
winged
days
?
Thou
lookest
from
thy
towers
to-day
;
yet
a
few
years
,
and
the
blast
of
the
desart
comes
;
it
howls
in
thy
empty
court
,
and
whistles
round
thy
half-worn
shield
.
—
And
let
the
blast
of
the
desart
come
!
we
shall
be
renowned
in
our
day
.
The
mark
of
my
arm
shall
be
in
the
battle
,
and
my
name
in
the
song
of
bards
.
—
Raise
the
song
;
send
round
the
shell
:
and
let
joy
be
heard
in
my
hall
.
—
When
thou
,
sun
of
heaven
,
shalt
fail
!
if
thou
shalt
fail
,
thou
mighty
light
!
if
thy
brightness
is
for
a
season
,
like
Fingal
;
our
fame
shall
survive
thy
beams
.
SUCH
was
the
song
of
Fingal
,
in
the
day
of
his
joy
.
His
thou
sand
bards
leaned
forward
from
their
seats
,
to
hear
the
voice
of
the
king
.
It
was
like
the
music
of
the
harp
on
the
gale
of
the
spring
.
—
Lovely
were
thy
thoughts
,
O
Fingal
!
why
had
not
Ossian
the
strength
of
thy
soul
?
—
But
thou
standest
alone
,
my
father
;
and
who
can
equal
the
king
of
Morven
?
THE
night
passed
away
in
the
song
,
and
morning
returned
in
joy
;
—
the
mountains
shewed
their
gray
heads
;
and
the
blue
face
of
ocean
smiled
.
—
The
white
wave
is
seen
tumbling
round
the
distant
rock
;
the
gray
mist
rises
,
slowly
,
from
the
lake
.
It
came
,
in
the
figure
of
an
aged
man
,
along
the
silent
plain
.
Its
large
limbs
did
not
move
in
steps
;
for
a
ghost
supported
it
in
mid
air
.
It
came
towards
Selma's
hall
,
and
dissolved
in
a
shower
of
blood
.
THE
king
alone
beheld
the
terrible
sight
,
and
he
foresaw
the
death
of
the
people
.
He
came
,
in
silence
,
to
his
hall
;
and
took
his
father's
spear
.
—
The
mail
rattled
on
his
breast
.
The
heroes
rose
around
.
They
looked
,
in
silence
,
on
each
other
,
marking
the
eyes
of
Fingal
.
—
They
saw
the
battle
in
his
face
:
the
death
of
armies
on
his
spear
.
—
A
thousand
shields
,
at
once
,
are
placed
on
their
arms
;
and
they
drew
a
thousand
swords
.
The
hall
of
Selma
brightened
around
.
The
clang
of
arms
ascends
.
—
The
gray
dogs
howl
in
their
place
.
No
word
is
among
the
mighty
chiefs
.
—
Each
marked
the
eyes
of
the
King
;
and
half
assumed
his
spear
.
SONS
of
Morven
,
begun
the
king
,
this
is
no
time
to
fill
the
shell
.
The
battle
darkens
near
us
;
and
death
hovers
over
the
land
.
Some
ghost
,
the
friend
of
Fingal
,
has
forewarned
us
of
the
foe
.
—
The
sons
of
the
stranger
come
from
the
darkly-rolling
sea
.
For
,
from
the
water
,
came
the
sign
of
Morven's
gloomy
danger
.
—
Let
each
foreign
HOM.
ii
.
382.
His
sharpen'd
spear
let
every
Grecian
wield
,
And
every
Grecian
fix
his
brazen
shield
,
&c.
POPE
.
Let
each
His
adamantine
coat
gird
well
,
and
each
Fit
well
his
helm
,
gripe
fast
his
orbed
shield
,
Borne
ev'n
or
high
;
for
this
day
will
pour
down
,
If
I
conjecture
right
,
no
drizling
shower
,
But
rattling
storm
of
arrows
barb'd
with
fire
.
MILTON
.
assume
his
heavy
spear
,
and
gird
on
his
father's
sword
.
—
Let
the
dark
helmet
rise
on
every
head
;
and
the
mail
pour
its
lighten
ing
from
every
side
.
—
The
battle
gathers
like
a
tempest
,
and
soon
shall
ye
hear
the
roar
of
death
.
THE
hero
moved
on
before
his
host
,
like
a
cloud
before
a
ridge
of
green
fire
;
when
it
pours
on
the
sky
of
night
,
and
mariners
forsee
a
storm
.
On
Cona's
rising
heath
they
stood
:
the
white-bosomed
maids
beheld
them
above
like
a
grove
;
they
foresaw
the
death
of
their
youths
,
and
looked
towards
the
sea
with
fear
.
—
The
white
wave
deceived
them
for
distant
sails
,
and
the
tear
is
on
their
cheek
.
THE
sun
rose
on
the
sea
,
and
we
beheld
a
distant
fleet
.
—
Like
the
mist
of
ocean
they
came
:
and
poured
their
youth
upon
the
coast
.
—
The
chief
was
among
them
,
like
the
stag
in
the
midst
of
the
herd
.
—
His
shield
is
studded
with
gold
,
and
stately
strode
the
king
of
spears
.
—
He
moved
towards
Selma
;
his
thousands
moved
behind
.
GO
,
with
thy
song
of
peace
,
said
Fingal
;
go
,
Ullin
,
to
the
king
of
swords
.
Tell
him
that
we
are
mighty
in
battle
;
and
that
the
ghosts
of
our
foes
are
many
.
—
But
renowned
are
they
who
have
feasted
in
my
halls
!
they
shew
the
arms
It
was
a
custom
among
the
ancient
Scots
,
to
exchange
arms
with
their
guests
,
and
those
arms
were
preserved
long
in
the
different
families
,
as
monuments
of
the
friendship
which
subsisted
between
their
an
cestors
.
of
my
fathers
in
a
foreign
land
:
the
sons
of
the
strangers
wonder
,
and
bless
the
friends
of
Morven's
race
;
for
our
names
have
been
heard
afar
;
the
kings
of
the
world
shook
in
the
midst
of
their
people
.
ULLIN
went
with
his
song
.
Fingal
rested
on
his
spear
:
he
saw
the
mighty
foe
in
his
armour
:
and
he
blest
the
stranger's
son
.
HOW
stately
art
thou
,
son
of
the
sea
!
said
the
king
of
woody
Morven
.
Thy
sword
is
a
beam
of
might
by
thy
side
:
thy
spear
is
a
fir
that
defies
the
storm
.
The
varied
face
of
the
moon
is
not
broader
than
thy
shield
.
—
Ruddy
is
thy
face
of
youth
!
soft
the
ringlets
of
thy
hair
!
—
But
this
tree
may
fall
;
and
his
memory
be
forgot
!
—
The
daughter
of
the
stranger
will
be
sad
,
and
look
to
the
rolling
sea
:
—
the
children
will
say
,
"
We
see
a
ship
;
perhaps
it
is
the
king
of
Balclutha
.
"
The
tear
starts
from
their
mother's
eye
.
Her
thoughts
are
of
him
that
sleeps
in
Morven
.
SUCH
were
the
words
of
the
king
,
when
Ullin
came
to
the
mighty
Carthon
:
he
threw
down
the
spear
before
him
;
and
raised
the
song
of
peace
.
COME
to
the
feast
of
Fingal
,
Carthon
,
from
the
rolling
sea
!
par
take
the
feast
of
the
king
,
or
lift
the
spear
of
war
.
The
ghosts
of
our
foes
are
many
:
but
renowned
are
the
friends
of
Morven
!
BEHOLD
that
field
,
O
Carthon
;
many
a
green
hill
rises
there
,
with
mossy
stones
and
rustling
grass
:
these
are
the
tombs
of
Fingal's
foes
,
the
sons
of
the
rolling
sea
.
DOST
thou
speak
to
the
feeble
in
arms
,
said
Carthon
,
bard
of
the
woody
Morven
?
Is
my
face
pale
for
fear
,
son
of
the
peaceful
song
?
Why
,
then
,
dost
thou
think
to
darken
my
soul
with
the
tales
of
those
who
fell
?
—
My
arm
has
fought
in
the
battle
;
my
re
nown
is
known
afar
.
Go
to
the
feeble
in
arms
,
and
bid
them
yield
to
Fingal
.
—
Have
not
I
seen
the
fallen
Balclutha
?
And
shall
I
feast
with
Comhal's
son
?
Comhal
!
who
threw
his
fire
in
the
midst
of
my
fa
ther's
hall
!
I
was
young
,
and
knew
not
the
cause
why
the
virgins
wept
.
The
columns
of
smoke
pleased
mine
eye
,
when
they
rose
above
my
walls
;
I
often
looked
back
,
with
gladness
,
when
my
friends
fled
along
the
hill
.
—
But
when
the
years
of
my
youth
came
on
,
I
beheld
the
moss
of
my
fallen
walls
:
my
sigh
arose
with
the
morn
ing
,
and
my
tears
descended
with
night
.
—
Shall
I
not
fight
,
I
said
to
my
soul
,
against
the
children
of
my
foes
?
And
I
will
fight
,
O
bard
;
I
feel
the
strength
of
my
soul
.
HIS
people
gathered
around
the
hero
,
and
drew
,
at
once
,
their
shining
swords
.
He
stands
,
in
the
midst
,
like
a
pillar
of
fire
;
the
tear
half-starting
from
his
eye
;
for
he
thought
of
the
fallen
Balclu
tha
,
and
the
crowded
pride
of
his
soul
arose
.
Sidelong
he
looked
up
to
the
hill
,
where
our
heroes
shone
in
arms
;
the
spear
trembled
in
his
hand
:
and
,
bending
foreward
,
he
seemed
to
threaten
the
king
.
SHALL
I
,
said
Fingal
to
his
soul
,
meet
,
at
once
,
the
king
?
Shall
I
stop
him
,
in
the
midst
of
his
course
,
before
his
fame
shall
arise
?
But
the
bard
,
hereafter
,
may
say
,
when
he
sees
the
tomb
of
Car
thon
;
Fingal
took
his
thousands
,
along
with
him
,
to
battle
,
before
the
noble
Carthon
fell
.
—
No
:
—
bard
of
the
times
to
come
!
thou
shalt
not
lessen
Fingal's
fame
.
My
heroes
will
fight
the
youth
,
and
Fingal
behold
the
battle
.
If
he
overcomes
,
I
rush
,
in
my
strength
,
like
the
roaring
stream
of
Cona
.
WHO
,
of
my
heroes
,
will
meet
the
son
of
the
rolling
sea
?
Many
are
his
warriors
on
the
coast
:
and
strong
is
his
ashen
spear
!
CATHUL
Cath-'huil
,
the
eye
of
battle
.
rose
,
in
his
strength
,
the
son
of
the
mighty
Lor
mar
:
three
hundred
youths
attend
the
chief
,
the
race
It
appears
,
from
this
passage
,
that
clanship
was
established
,
in
the
days
of
Fingal
,
though
not
on
the
same
footing
with
the
present
tribes
in
the
north
of
Scotland
.
of
his
native
streams
.
Feeble
was
his
arm
against
Carthon
,
he
fell
;
and
his
heroes
fled
.
CONNAL
This
Connal
is
very
much
celebrated
,
in
ancient
poetry
,
for
his
wisdom
and
va
lour
:
there
is
a
small
tribe
still
subsisting
,
in
the
North
,
who
pretend
they
are
de
scended
from
him
.
resumed
the
battle
,
but
he
broke
his
heavy
spear
:
he
lay
bound
on
the
field
:
and
Carthon
pursued
his
people
.
CLESSAMMOR
!
said
the
king
Fingal
did
not
then
know
that
Car
thon
was
the
son
of
Clessammor
.
of
Morven
,
where
is
the
spear
of
thy
strength
?
Wilt
thou
behold
Connal
bound
;
thy
friend
,
at
the
stream
of
Lora
?
Rise
,
in
the
light
of
thy
steel
,
thou
friend
of
Comhal
.
Let
the
youth
of
Balclutha
feel
the
strength
of
Mor
ven's
race
.
HE
rose
in
the
strength
of
his
steel
,
shaking
his
grizly
locks
.
He
fitted
the
shield
to
his
side
;
and
rushed
,
in
the
pride
of
valour
.
CARTHON
stood
,
on
that
heathy
rock
,
and
saw
the
heroes
ap
proach
.
He
loved
the
terrible
joy
of
his
face
:
and
his
strength
,
in
the
locks
of
age
.
—
Shall
I
lift
that
spear
,
he
said
,
that
never
strikes
,
but
once
,
a
foe
?
Or
shall
I
,
with
the
words
of
peace
,
pre
serve
the
warrior's
life
?
Stately
are
his
steps
of
age
!
—
lovely
the
remnant
of
his
years
.
Perhaps
it
is
the
love
of
Moina
;
the
father
of
car-borne
Carthon
.
Often
have
I
heard
,
that
he
dwelt
at
the
ecchoing
stream
of
Lora
.
SUCH
were
his
words
,
when
Clessámmor
came
,
and
lifted
high
his
spear
.
The
youth
received
it
on
his
shield
,
and
spoke
the
words
of
peace
.
—
Warrior
of
the
aged
locks
!
Is
there
no
youth
to
lift
the
spear
?
Hast
thou
no
son
,
to
raise
the
shield
before
his
father
,
and
to
meet
the
arm
of
youth
?
Is
the
spouse
of
thy
love
no
more
?
or
weeps
she
over
the
tombs
of
thy
sons
?
Art
thou
of
the
kings
of
men
?
What
will
be
the
fame
of
my
sword
if
thou
shalt
fall
?
IT
will
be
great
,
thou
son
of
pride
!
begun
the
tall
Clessámmor
.
I
have
been
renowned
in
battle
;
but
I
never
told
my
name
To
tell
one's
name
to
an
enemy
was
reckoned
,
in
those
days
of
heroism
,
a
ma
nifest
evasion
of
fighting
him
;
for
,
if
it
was
once
known
,
that
friendship
subsisted
,
of
old
,
between
the
ancestors
of
the
com
batants
,
the
battle
immediately
ceased
;
and
the
ancient
amity
of
their
forefathers
was
renewed
.
A
man
who
tells
his
name
to
his
enemy
,
was
of
old
an
ignominious
term
for
a
coward
.
to
a
soe
.
Yield
to
me
,
son
of
the
wave
,
and
then
thou
shalt
know
,
that
the
mark
of
my
sword
is
in
many
a
field
.
I
NEVER
yielded
,
king
of
spears
!
replied
the
noble
pride
of
Car
thon
:
I
have
also
fought
in
battles
;
and
I
behold
my
future
fame
.
Despise
me
not
,
thou
chief
of
men
;
my
arm
,
my
spear
is
strong
.
Retire
among
thy
friends
,
and
let
young
heroes
fight
.
WHY
dost
thou
wound
my
soul
,
replied
Clessámmor
with
a
tear
?
Age
does
not
tremble
on
my
hand
;
I
still
can
lift
the
sword
.
Shall
I
fly
in
Fingal's
sight
;
in
the
sight
of
him
I
loved
?
Son
of
the
sea
!
I
never
fled
:
exalt
thy
pointed
spear
.
THEY
fought
,
like
two
contending
winds
,
that
strive
to
roll
the
wave
.
Carthon
bade
his
spear
to
err
;
for
he
still
thought
that
the
foe
was
the
spouse
of
Moina
.
—
He
broke
Clessámmor's
beamy
spear
in
twain
:
and
seized
his
shining
sword
.
But
as
Carthon
was
binding
the
chief
;
the
chief
drew
the
dagger
of
his
fathers
.
He
saw
the
foe's
uncovered
side
;
and
opened
,
there
,
a
wound
.
FINGAL
saw
Clessámmor
low
:
he
moved
in
the
sound
of
his
steel
.
The
host
stood
silent
,
in
his
presence
;
they
turned
their
eyes
towards
the
hero
.
—
He
came
,
like
the
sullen
noise
of
a
storm
,
before
the
winds
arise
:
the
hunter
hears
it
in
the
vale
,
and
retires
to
the
cave
of
the
rock
.
CARTHON
stood
in
his
place
:
the
blood
is
rushing
down
his
side
:
he
saw
the
coming
down
of
the
king
;
and
his
hopes
of
fame
arose
This
expression
admits
of
a
double
meaning
,
either
that
Carthon
hoped
to
ac
quire
glory
by
killing
Fingal
;
or
to
be
ren
dered
famous
by
falling
by
his
hand
.
The
last
is
the
most
probable
,
as
Carthon
is
al
ready
wounded
.
;
but
pale
was
his
cheek
:
his
hair
flew
loose
,
his
hel
met
shook
on
high
:
the
force
of
Carthon
failed
;
but
his
soul
was
strong
.
FINGAL
beheld
the
heroe's
blood
;
he
stopt
the
uplifted
spear
.
Yield
,
king
of
swords
!
said
Comhal's
son
;
I
behold
thy
blood
.
Thou
hast
been
mighty
in
battle
;
and
thy
fame
shall
never
fade
.
ART
thou
the
king
so
far
renowned
,
replied
the
car-borne
Car
thon
?
Art
thou
that
light
of
death
,
that
frightens
the
kings
of
the
world
?
—
But
why
should
Carthon
ask
?
for
he
is
like
the
stream
of
his
desart
;
strong
as
a
river
,
in
his
course
:
swift
as
the
eagle
of
the
sky
.
—
O
that
I
had
sought
with
the
king
;
that
my
same
might
be
great
in
the
song
!
that
the
hunter
,
beholding
my
tomb
,
might
say
,
he
fought
with
the
mighty
Fingal
.
But
Carthon
dies
unknown
;
he
has
poured
out
his
force
on
the
feeble
.
BUT
thou
shalt
not
die
unknown
,
replied
the
king
of
woody
Mor
ven
:
my
bards
are
many
,
O
Carthon
,
and
their
songs
descend
to
future
times
.
The
children
of
the
years
to
come
shall
hear
the
fame
of
Carthon
;
when
they
sit
round
the
burning
oak
In
the
north
of
Scotland
,
till
very
lately
,
they
burnt
a
large
trunk
of
an
oak
at
their
festivals
;
it
was
called
the
trunk
of
the
feast
.
Time
had
,
so
much
,
consecrated
the
custom
,
that
the
vulgar
thought
it
a
kind
of
sacrilege
to
disuse
it
.
,
and
the
night
is
spent
in
the
songs
of
old
.
The
hunter
,
sitting
in
the
heath
,
shall
hear
the
rustling
blast
;
and
,
raising
his
eyes
,
behold
the
rock
where
Carthon
fell
.
He
shall
turn
to
his
son
,
and
shew
the
place
where
the
mighty
fought
;
"
There
the
king
of
Balclutha
fought
,
like
the
strength
of
a
thousand
streams
.
"
JOY
rose
in
Carthon's
face
:
he
lifted
his
heavy
eyes
.
—
He
gave
his
sword
to
Fingal
,
to
lie
within
his
hall
,
that
the
memory
of
Balclutha's
king
might
remain
on
Morven
.
—
The
battle
ceased
along
the
field
,
for
the
bard
had
sung
the
song
of
peace
.
The
chiefs
ga
thered
round
the
falling
Carthon
,
and
heard
his
words
,
with
sighs
.
Silent
they
leaned
on
their
spears
,
while
Balclutha's
hero
spoke
.
His
hair
sighed
in
the
wind
,
and
his
words
were
feeble
.
KING
of
Morven
,
Carthon
said
,
I
fall
in
the
midst
of
my
course
.
A
foreign
tomb
receives
,
in
youth
,
the
last
of
Reuthámir's
race
.
Darkness
dwells
in
Balclutha
:
and
the
shadows
of
grief
in
Crathmo
.
—
But
raise
my
remembrance
on
the
banks
of
Lora
:
where
my
fa
thers
dwelt
.
Perhaps
the
husband
of
Moina
will
mourn
over
his
fallen
Carthon
.
HIS
words
reached
the
heart
of
Clessámmor
:
he
fell
,
in
silence
,
on
his
son
.
The
host
stood
darkened
around
:
no
voice
is
on
the
plains
of
Lora
.
Night
came
,
and
the
moon
,
from
the
east
,
looked
on
the
mournful
field
:
but
still
they
stood
,
like
a
silent
grove
that
lifts
its
head
on
Gormal
,
when
the
loud
winds
are
laid
,
and
dark
au
tumn
is
on
the
plain
.
THREE
days
they
mourned
above
Carthon
;
on
the
fourth
his
fa
ther
died
.
In
the
narrow
plain
of
the
rock
they
lie
;
and
a
dim
ghost
defends
their
tomb
.
There
lovely
Moina
is
often
seen
;
when
the
sun-beam
darts
on
the
rock
,
and
all
around
is
dark
.
There
she
is
seen
,
Malvina
,
but
not
like
the
daughters
of
the
hill
.
Her
robes
are
from
the
stranger's
land
;
and
she
is
still
alone
.
FINGAL
was
sad
for
Carthon
;
he
desired
his
bards
to
mark
the
day
,
when
shadowy
autumn
returned
.
And
often
did
they
mark
the
day
and
sing
the
hero's
praise
.
Who
comes
so
dark
from
ocean's
roar
,
like
autumn's
shadowy
cloud
?
Death
is
trembling
in
his
hand
!
his
eyes
are
flames
of
fire
!
—
Who
roars
along
dark
Lora's
heath
?
Who
but
Carthon
,
king
of
swords
?
The
people
fall
!
see
!
how
he
strides
,
like
the
sullen
ghost
of
Morven
!
—
But
there
he
lies
a
goodly
oak
,
which
sudden
blasts
overturned
!
When
shalt
thou
rise
,
Balclutha's
joy
!
lovely
car-borne
Carthon
?
—
Who
comes
so
dark
from
ocean's
roar
,
like
autumn's
shadowy
cloud
?
SUCH
were
the
words
of
the
bards
,
in
the
day
of
their
mourning
:
I
have
accompanied
their
voice
;
and
added
to
their
song
.
My
soul
has
been
mournful
for
Carthon
;
he
fell
in
the
days
of
his
valour
:
and
thou
,
O
Clessámmor
!
where
is
thy
dwelling
in
the
air
?
—
Has
the
youth
forgot
his
wound
?
And
flies
he
,
on
the
clouds
,
with
thee
?
—
I
feel
the
sun
,
O
Malvina
,
leave
me
to
my
rest
.
Perhaps
they
may
come
to
my
dreams
;
I
think
I
hear
a
feeble
voice
.
—
The
beam
of
heaven
delights
to
shine
on
the
grave
of
Carthon
:
I
feel
it
warm
around
.
O
THOU
that
rollest
above
This
passage
is
something
similar
to
Satan's
address
to
the
Sun
,
in
the
fourth
book
of
Paradise
Lost
.
O
thou
that
with
surpassing
glory
crown'd
,
Looks
from
thy
sole
dominion
like
the
god
Of
this
new
world
;
at
whose
sight
all
the
stars
Hide
their
diminish'd
heads
;
to
thee
I
call
,
But
with
no
friendly
voice
,
and
add
thy
name
O
sun
!
—
,
round
as
the
shield
of
my
fathers
!
Whence
are
thy
beams
,
O
sun
!
thy
everlasting
light
?
Thou
comest
forth
,
in
thy
awful
beauty
,
and
the
stars
hide
themselves
in
the
sky
;
the
moon
,
cold
and
pale
,
sinks
in
the
western
wave
.
But
thou
thy
self
movest
alone
:
who
can
be
a
companion
of
thy
course
!
The
oaks
of
the
mountains
fall
:
the
mountains
themselves
decay
with
years
;
the
ocean
shrinks
and
grows
again
:
the
moon
herself
is
lost
in
heaven
;
but
thou
art
for
ever
the
same
;
rejoicing
in
the
bright
ness
of
thy
course
.
When
the
world
is
dark
with
tempests
;
when
thunder
rolls
,
and
lightning
flies
;
thou
lookest
in
thy
beauty
,
from
the
clouds
,
and
laughest
at
the
storm
.
But
to
Ossian
,
thou
lookest
in
vain
;
for
he
beholds
thy
beams
no
more
;
whether
thy
yellow
hair
flows
on
the
eastern
clouds
,
or
thou
tremblest
at
the
gates
of
the
west
.
But
thou
art
perhaps
,
like
me
,
for
a
season
,
and
thy
years
will
have
an
end
.
Thou
shalt
sleep
in
thy
clouds
,
careless
of
the
voice
of
the
morning
.
—
Exult
then
,
O
sun
,
in
the
strength
of
thy
youth
!
Age
is
dark
and
unlovely
;
it
is
like
the
glimmering
light
of
the
moon
Quale
per
incertain
lunam
sub
luce
ma
ligna
Est
iter
in
silvis
;
ubi
coelum
condidit
umbra
Jupiter
,
&
robus
nox
abstulit
atra
colorem
.
VIRG.
Thus
wander
travellers
in
woods
by
night
,
By
the
moon's
doubtful
,
and
malignant
light
:
When
Jove
in
dusky
clouds
involves
the
skies
,
And
the
saint
crescent
shoots
by
fits
before
their
eyes
.
DRYD.
,
when
it
shines
through
broken
clouds
,
and
the
mist
is
on
the
hills
;
the
blast
of
north
is
on
the
plain
,
the
traveller
shrinks
in
the
midst
of
his
journey
.