Ossian Collection > Fingal

A POEM. 135
Such were the words of the bards, in the day
of their mourning : I have accompanied their
voice ; and added to their fong. My foul has
been mournful for Carthon ; he fell in the days of
liis valour : and thou, O Clefsammor ! where is
thy dwelling in the air ? — Has the youth forgot
his wound ? and flies he, on the clouds, with thee?
— I feel the fun, O Malvina, leave me to my reft.
Perhaps they may come to my dreams ; I think I
hear a feeble voice. — The beam of heaven delights
to fhine on the grave of Carthon : I feel it warm
around.
O THOU that rolleft above *, round as the
fliield of my fathers ! Whence are thy beams, O
fun! thy everlafting light? Thou comeft forth,
in thy awful beauty, and the ftars hide themfelves
in the iky; the moon, cold and pale, fmks in the
weftern wave. But thou thyfelf moved alone:
who can be a companion of thy courfe ! The oaks
of the mountains fall : the mountains themfelves
decay with years; the ocean fhrinks and grovrs a-
gain : the moon herfelf is loft in heaven ; but thou
art for ever the fame ; rejoicing in the brightnefs of
thy courfe. When the world is dark with tempefts ;
when thunder rolls, and lightning flies ; thou look-
eft in thy beauty, from the clouds, and laugheft
at the ftorm. But to Ofllan thou lookeft in vain •
for he beholds thy beams no more ; whether thy
yellow hair flows on the eaftern clouds, or thou
trembleft
* This paflage is fomething fimilar to Satan's addrefs
to the Sun, in the fourth book of Paradife Loft,
O thou that with furpafTing glory crown'd,
Look'ft from thy fole dominion like the god
Of this new world ; at whofe fight all the ftars
Hide their diminilVd heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Ofun!