Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 3

ON THE POEMS OF OSSIAN, 187
is afterwards placed, and the fpeech put in-
to his mouth, are full of that folemn and
awful fublimity, which fuits the fubje£t«
** Dim and in tears, he flood and ftretched
** his pale hand over the hero. Faintly he
*' raifed his feeble voice, like the gale of
^* the reedy Lego. — My ghoft, O Connal !
" is on my native hills j but my corfe is
•* on the fands of Ullin. Thou (halt neyer
** talk with Crugal, or find his lone fteps
" in the heath. I am light as the blaft of
** Cromla ; and I move like the fhadow of
" mill:. Connal, fon of Colgar ! I fee the
" dark cloud of death. It hovers over the
*' plains of Lena. The fons of green Erin
*' fliall fall. Remove from the field of
" ghofts.-^Like the darkened moon he re-
*' tired in the midft of the whirling blaft.'*
Several other appearances of fpirits might
be pointed out, asamongft the moft fublime
l^alTages of Offian's poetry. The circum-
ilances of them are confiderably diverfified j
and the fcenery always fuited to the occa-
fion. *' Ofcar flowly afcends the hill. The
" meteors of night fet on the heath before
*' him. A diftant torrent faintly roars. Un-
*' frequent blafts rufti through aged oaks.
** The half- enlightened moon finks dim and
*' red behind her hill. Feeble voices are
** heard on the heath. Ofcar drew his
*' fword." Nothing can prepare the
fancy more happily for the awful fcsne