Page:Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem in Six Books.djvu/40

2 bar, a hero whom   he slew in war; the scout of the ocean came Moran. the son of Fithil.

, said the youth, Cuchullin, rise; I see the ships of Swaran. Cuchullin, many are the foe: many the heroes of the dark-rolling sea.

! replied the blue-eyed chief, thou ever tremblest, son of Fithil: Thy fears have much increased the foe. Perhaps it is the king of the lonely hills coming to aid me on green Ullin's plains.

their chief, says Moran, tall as a rock of ice. His spear Is like that blasted fir. His shield like the rising moon. He sat on a rock on the shore : like a cloud of mist on the silent hill. ——— Many, chief of men! I said, many are our hands of war. ——— Well Rh