Ossian Collection > Fingal

no The WAR of I N I S - T II O N A :
fong of Selma ; that fleep may overtake my foul in the midft of
joy ; that the dreams of my youth may return, and the days of the
mighty Fingal.
Selma! I behold thy towers, thy tree?, and fliaded wall. I fee
the heroes of Morven j and hear the fong of bards. Ofcar lifts the
fword of Cormalo ; and a thoufand youths adniire its ftudded thongs.
They look with wonder on my fon ; and admire the ftrength of his
arm. They mark the joy of his father's eyes; they long for an
equal fame.
And ve fliall have your flune, O fons of ftreamy Morven. — My
foul is often brightened with the fong ; and I remember the com-
panions of my youth. But lleep defcends with the found of the
harp ; and pleafant dreams begin to rife. Ye fons of the chace ftand
far dillant, nor difturb my refl: *. The bard of other times con-
verfes now with his fathers, the chiefs of the days of old. — Sons of
the chace, ftand far diftant ; difturb not the dreams of OlTian.
* I charge you, O ye daughters of Jc- field, that ye ftir not up, nor awake my
rufakm, by the roes, and by the hinds of the love, till he pleafe. Solomon's Song.
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