Ossian Collection > Sean dana

DAN an DEIRG. 21
O ! 's moch do thuras gu d' neoil,
Is òg leinn, a laoich, a thuit thu ;
Co dh' innfeas do 'n aofda nach beo thu ;
No co do tòg-mhnaoi bheir furtachd?
Chi mi tathair fo eithre aois,
Gu faoin an dochas ri d' thigheachd ;
A lamh air a fhleagh 's i air chrith,
'S a cheann lia, lorn, mar chritheach fan tsinc
Meallaidh gach neul a dhall-fhuil,
'S e'n duil gu faic e do bhàrca ;
Thig deo-grein' air aghaidh aofda,
'S a ghlaodh ri oigridh — " Chi mi mbàta!"
— Seallaidh a chlann amach air lear,
Chi iad an ceathach a' feola' ;
Crathaidh efan a cheann lia,
Tha ofna tiamhaidh 's a ghnuis brònach *.
Chi mi Crimin is fìa' ghàir' orr,'
A' faoilfinn bhi air traigh ga d' fhaicinn :
3 A
* — — Day after day,
Sad on the jutting eminence he fits,
And views the main that ever toils below ;
Still fondly forming on the fartheft verge,
Where the round aether mixes with the wave,
Ships, dim-difcovered, dropping from the clouds.
Thomsos.