Blair Collection > Songs and hymns of the Scottish Highlands

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20-OISEAN IS MALMHINE-0S8IAN AND MALVINA.
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■ l| 'Se guth ciùin mo | ruin a th' aim. I 'S ainmic thu gu | m'aisling fein ;
'Tifl my lover's tones that call, In my dreams tliey seldom rise ;
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I Fosglaibh sibhs' bhurl talla thall,
- pen wide your azure hall,
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l|shinnsrd Thoscair, I nan ard speur. ll'Sedochomlmuidh-s'jm'anam fein, |a shil
Kace of Tos - car in the skies. Thou dost dwell within my soul. Son of
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I 's treine laimh,
might - y chief ;
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m' osnadh | moch gun fheum, Mo| dheoir mar shileadh I speuran ard.
Every morn renews my grief.
I Eiridh
Like heaven's rain my tears down roll
Bu chrann aillidh mi, threin nan seed,
Oscair chorr, le geugaibh ctibhr' ;
Thainig bàs mar ghaoth nan torr ;
Thuit fo sgeith mo cheann fo smùr.
Thainig earrach caoin fo bhraon,
Cha d'eirich duilleag fhaoin dhotnh fein ;
Chunnaic oigh mi fo shamhohair thall,
Bhuail iad clarsaicbe mall nan tend,
OlSEAN :
Caoin am fonn 'na mo ebluais fein,
Nighean Lotha, nan srutb fiar,
'N cual tbu guth nach 'eil beo 's a bheinn
An aisling, ann do chodal ciar ?
Nuair thuit clos air do sbuilibh mall
Air bruachan Mòrshruth nan toirm beur',
Nuair thearnadh leat o sheilg nan earn.
An latha ciMn, ard ghrian 's an speur.
Chuala tu 'n sin bàrda nam fonn,
'S taitneacb ach is trom do gbuth ;
'S taitneach, Mhalmhlne nan sonn,
Leaghaidh bròn am bochd anam dubh.
Tha aoibhneas ann am bron le sith
Nuair shuidhicheas krd strl a bhrbin ;
Caitbidh cumha tursaich gun bbrigh
Gann an lài' an tir nan sebd.
Lines selected from the introduction to Ossian's poem of " Croma," and translation by L. MaoBean. Thia
beautiful Oaaianic air is preserved in Capt. Fkaser's collection.
I was once a stately tree,
My fair boughs were Oscar's pride,
But his death soon blighted me,
And my blossoms drooped and died.
Spring returned with flower and leaf,
Bnt no leaf on me was found;
Virgins saw my silent gi'ief,
Struck the harp of softest sound.
OssiAN:
Sweet the music in my ears,
Maid from Lotha's winding streams,
Has the voice of other years
Sounded fondly in thy dreams?
When, descending from the chase.
Thou by Morn's banks didst lie,
Clasped in slumber's soft embrace,
'Neath the calm and sultry sky —
Melodies all faint and low,
Malvina, round thee stole ;
Sweet but sad thy tones, and oh I
Sorrow melts the weary soul.
There is joy in peaceful woe
When subsideth sorrow's strife ;
Idle tears should cease to flow,
Grief consumes the mourner's life.