Ossian Collection > Songs of the Gael

8-LAOIDH OISEIN DO'N GHRIAN-OSSIAN'S HYMN TO THE SUN.
I O Ithu . I
- :li|s
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s Ishlubhlas shuas, Thalcrnlnn mar Ian 6glath|chrnaidhraiitriath/
est through the sky, Like shield of warrior round and bright,
ITheid Ighealach sios
The pal • lid moon
Tha thus' 'ad astar del a mhkin,
Is CO dha'n d*ina bhi 'ad ch6ii?
Feuch, tuitidh darag o'n chruaich aird,
Is tuitidh cam fo aois is sc6rr,
Is traighidh agus lionaidh 'n cuan,
Is caillear shuas an rfe 'san spdur,
Tha thus' ad aon a cliaoidh fo bhuaidh
An aoibhneas bhuan do sholuis fein !
Nuair dhubhas dorch m'an doiiihain stoirm,
Le torrunn bbrb is dealan beur
Seallaidh tu'nad Mil' o'n toirm,
'S ftamh gkire 'm bruaillean m6r nan spfeur.
Ach dhomhsa tha do sholus faoin
'S iiach fhaic mo shuil a cliaoidh do ghnnte,
A sgaolleadh ciil a's orbhui' ciabh
Air aghaidh nial 's a mhadainn in,
A sgaoileadh ctil a's orbhui' ciabh
Air aghaidh liath nan nial 's an ear
No nuair a chritheas tu 's an iar
Aig do dhorsaibh ciar air lear.
Ma dh' fheudte gu bheil tlni 's ml fein
'An am gu treun 's gun fbeum 'an am,
Ar bliadhnaibh tearnadh sios o'n speur
La chfeile siubhal chum an ceann.
Biodh aoibhneas ortsa fein, a Ghrian,
A thriath 'ad 6ige neartmhor ta !
Oir 's dorch' mi-thaitncach tha an aoit
Jfar sholus faoin an rfe gun i:h:iil,
Bho ntoil a scalltuuin air an ruoii,
'S an liath-clieo faoin air thaobh nan okm,
An osag fhuar o thuath air rtth,
x'sar (iubbail dol fo bheud 'se mall.
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1, fo I stuaidh 'san iar. ||
:d|r
'Ga Iclea - tha fein
To hide beneath the west
Thou movest in thy course alone,
And who so bold as wander near ?
The mountain oak sliall yet fall prone,
The hills with age sliall disappear.
The changing main shall ebb and flow.
The waning moon be lost in night ;
Thou only slialt %'lctorious go,
For ever joying in thy light !
When heaven with gathering clouds is Vilack,
When thunders roar and lightnings fly.
Thou gazest lovely through the rack
And smilest in the raging sky.
But oh ! thy light is vain to me ;—
Ke'er shall mine eyes thy face behold,
When thou art streaming wide and free
O'er morning clouds thy hair of gold,
Wlien thou art shedding wide and free.
O'er eastern skies thy hair of gold,
Or trembling o'er the western sea
At night's dark portals backward rolled.
Nay but, perhaps, both thou and I
From strength to weakness both descend.
Our years declining from the sky.
Together hasting to th«ir end.
Rejoice, O sun, in this thy prime !
Kejoice, O chief, in youthful might !
Age is a dark and dreary time,
Feeble and faint as moon's wan light.
Struggling tlirough broken clouds in vain,
Wliile to the hills the mist hangs gray;
And northern gusts are on the plain,
Where toils the tiaveller on hi* way-