Ossian Collection > Fingal

The songs of S iE L M A. 217
and expired What is thy grief, O Daura, when rou;id thy feet is
poured thy brother's blood.
The boat is broken in twain by the waves. Armar plunges into
the fea, to refcue his Daura or die. Sudden a blafl: from the hill
comes over the waves. He funk, and he rofe no more.
Alone, on the fea-beat rock, my daughter was heard to com-
plain. Frequent and loud were her cries j nor could her father rcr-
lieve her. All night I ftood on the iliore. I faw her by the faint
beam of the moon. All night I heard her cries. Loud was the
wind ; and the rain beat hard on the fide of the mountain. Before
morning appeared, her voice v/as weak. It died away, like the
evening-breeze among the grafs of the rocks. Spent with grief fhe
expired. And left thee Armin alone : gone is my ftrength in the
war, and fallen my pride among women.
When the ftorms of the mountain come ; when the north lifts
the waves on high ; I fit by the founding fliore, and look on the
fatal rock. Often by the fetting moon I fee the ghofts of my chil-
dren. Half-viewlefs, they walk in mournful conference together.
Will none of you fpeak in pity ? They do not regard their father.
1 am fad, O Carmor, nor fmall my caufe of woe !
Such were the words of the bards in the days of the fong ; when
the king heard the mufic of harps, and the tales of other times. The
chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely found.
They praifed the voice * of Cona ! the firfh among a thoufand bards.
But age is now on my tongue ; and my foul has failed. I hear,
* Offian is fometimes poetically called the voice of Cona.
F f fometimes,