Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

Book IV.] FINGAL. 6.^
Dost thou, to witness Oscar's noble feats,
Down to the battle of thy people come ?
When shall I cease, near echoing Cona's streams
In lonely grief, to pour my plaintive song ? IQ
Amidst loud wars my years have been consum'd.
And sorrow shades the evening of my days,
I was not, fair of snowy hand, so blind,
So mournful, so obscure, and so forlorn.
When Everallin on me look'd, and lov'd. 15
Sweet Everallin, with the dark-brown hair,
The maid with snowy breast, from Cormac sprung ! .
To her a thousand heroes made their suit ;
But to a thousand she deny'd her love.
The sons of sword she treated witii disdain, 2fl
For Ossian graceful reigned in her eyes.
Where Lego's surge expands its sable sheet.
Thither I went to see the charming maid.
Twelve sons of streamy Morven form'd my train.
Soon wc to Branno came, the strans;ers' friend, 25
Branno of sounding mail, in battle strong.
' From whence,' said he, * arrive those arms of steel ?
* Not easy is the task to win the fair,
* Who has deny'd green Erin's blue-cy'd sons.
* But blest be thou, the son of great Fingal ; 5Q
' The maid is happy, that awaits thy hand I
* Tho' I could boast twelve virgin-daughters fair ;
' Thine M'ere the choice, thou noble son of fame!*
These words scarce ended, he wide open threw
The dark-hair'd Everallin's spacious hall. 3^
Joy beam'd ecstatic in our breasts of steel,
And we the matchless maid of Branno bless'd.—^
Above us, on the hill, in arms appear'J
The suite of stately Cormac, of which ghie^"