Ossian Collection > Fragments of ancient poetry

[ 58 ]
eyes are red with tears, who quakes
at every ftep ? — It is thy father, O
Morar ! the father of none but thee.
He heardofthyfame in battle; he heard
of foes difperfed. He heard of Morar's
fame ; why did he not hear of his
wound ? Weep, thou father of Morar !
weep ; but thy fon heareth thee not.
Deep is the fleep of the dead; low their
pillow of dull. No more (hall he hear
thy voice ; no more fhall he awake at
thy call. When (hall it be morn in the
grave, to bid the llumberer awake ?
Farewell, thou braveft of men !
thou conqueror in the field ! but the field
(hall fee thee no more ; nor the dark
wood be lightened with the fplendor of
thy fteel. Thou halt left no fon.
But the fong (hall preferve thy name.
Future times Ihall hear of thee ; they
fhall hear of the fallen Morar.
xin.