Ossian Collection > Fragments of ancient poetry

[ 56 ]
A L P I N.
My tears, O Ryno ! are for the dead ;
my voice, for the inhabitants of the
grave. Tall thou art on the hill ; fair
among the fons of the plain. But thou
fhalt fall like Morar ; and the mourner
{halt fit on thy tomb. The hills fhall
know thee no more; thy bow^ (hall lie in
the hall, unftrung.
Thou wert fv^^ift, O Morar ! as a
roe on the hill ; terrible as a meteor of
fire. Thy wrath was as the ftorm of
December. Thy fword in battle, as
lightning in the field. Thy voice was
like a ftream after rain ; like thunder
on diftant hills. Many fell by thy
arm ; they were confumed in the flames
of thy wrath.
But when thou returnedft from war,
how