Ossian Collection > Fingal

212 The songs of SELMA.
terrible in fight. Speak to me ; hear my voice, fons of my love f
But alas ! they are lilent ; ftlent for ever ! Cold are their
breafts of clay !
Oh ! from the rock of the hill ; from the top of the windy
mountcun, fpeak ye gholls of the dead ! fpeak, I will not be afraid.
— Whither are ye gone to reft ? In what cave of the hill ihall I
find you ? No feeble voice is on the wind : no anfwer half-drowned
in the ftorms of the hill.
I SIT in my grief. I wait for morning in my tears. Rear the
tomb, ye friends of the dead ; but clofe it not till Colma come. My
life flies away like a dream : why fliould I ftay behind ? Here fliall
I reft with my friends, by the ftream of the founding rock. When
night comes on tlie hill ; when the wind is on the heath ; my ghoft
fhall ftand in the wind, and mourn the death of my friends. The
hunter fhall hear from his booth. He fhall fear but love my voicei
For fweet fliall my voice be for my friends j for pleafanl were they
both to me.
Such was thy fong, Minona foftly-blufliing maid of Torman.
Our tears dcfcended for Colma, and our fouls were fad. — Ullin came
with the harp, and gave the fong of Alpin. — The voice of Alpin
was pleafant : the foul of Ryno was a beam of fire. But they had
refted in the narrow houfe : and their voice was not heard in Selma.
Ullin had returned one day from the chace, before the heroes
fell. He heard their ftrife on the hill ; their fong was foft but fad.
They mourned the fall of Morar, firft of mortal men.. His foul
was like the foul of Fingal i his fvvord like the fword of Ofcar. —
But he fell, and his father mourned : his fillier's eyes were full of
tears. Minona's eyes were full of tears, the fifter of car-borne
Morar.