Ossian Collection > Fingal

24S O I T H O N A.
. ThI; helmet fell from the hand of Gaul ; for it was the wounded
Oithona. She had armed herfelf in the cave, and came in fearch of
death. Her heavy eyes are half clofed ; the blood pours from
her fide.
Son of MornI, flie faid, prepare the narrow tomb. Sleep comes,
like a cloud, on my foul. The eyes of Oithona are dim. O had
I dwelt at Duvranna, in the bright beam of my fame ! then had
my years come on with joy ; and the virgins would blefs my fteps.
But I fall in youth, fon of Morni, and my father fliall blu/li
in his hall.
She fell pale on the rock of Tromathon. The mournful hero
raifed her tomb. He came to Morven j but we faw the darknefs
of his foul. Oflian took the harp in the praife of Oithona. The
brightnefs of the face of Gaul returned. But his figh rofe, at times,
in the midft of his friends, like blafts that llvake their unfrequent
wings, after the flormy winds are laid.
C R O M A