Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

A POEM. 127
" No :" * said the youth, h'v^ with a honving sigli ;
** Stiil, Lamor's people Uve. And on the field 115
♦* Renown, my father, crowns their valiant deeds.
«* But from Hldallan fame hath wing'd her flight !
** Alone, when loud the roar of battle grows,
** On Balva's banks now I must sit alone."
" But my forefathers never sat alone ;"— 120
* The rising pride of Lamor then reply'd.'
" Never, when loud the roar of battle rose,
" Sat they on Balva's silent banks alone.
" Behold'st thou not that tomb, the' my dim eyes
*' Discern it not ? There brave Oarmallon rests 12j
*' Who never fled from war — but nobly stood.
" Come, thou renown'd in battle ;" ' then he cries,'
** Come to thy father's tomb ! — Garmallon ! — Ah ! —
** Where is my fame? — My son has fled from war!"
' Again Hidailan answer'd, with a sigh :' ISO"
" King of the stroamy Balva ! Why torment
** Aly troubled soul ? Lamor, I never fear'd.
*♦ Through sad vexatian for Comahi's fate,
*' Fingal discharg'd Hidailan from his wars.
" Go to the grisled streamlets of thy land, 13j
" And moulder," * said lie,' *' like a leafless oak,
*♦ Down over Balva, bent by forcive v.'inds
** Torn from its sapless root, no more to grow I"
" And must I hear," ' said Lamor in reply,'
" The lonely tread of weak Hidallan's feet ? 1-iO
■" When thousands are renown'd in strife of war,
*' Shall he above my grisled streamlets bend ?
" Spirit of fam'd Garmallon ! To his place
" Of final rest, sad Lamor hence convey I
" His eyes are dark : his heaving soul is sad, 14.^'
" And now his son has ever lost his fame I"