Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

A POEM. 145
Like flaky snow light scattered on the heath—
(When, with soft bieatli, the gentle winds arise
And slowly move it in the falling light),
With gentlest heavings rises white and full.
Bright as the beam of Sora's setting sun 85
Young Aldo she beheld. With heaving sighs
Arose her feeling heart: the starting tears
Stood in her biimful eyes, and in her grief
On her white arm her drooping head she lean'd.
The grief concealing with apparent joy, 9^
Three days within tlie stately hall she sat.
Upon the fourth, along the rolling sea
She with the hero took a speedy flight.
To Cona's tow'rs, the palace of Fingal,
The potent king of glitt'ring spears ; they came, 95
* O thoughtless Aldo of the heart of pride !'
In rising wrath, the king of Morven said :
* Shall I protect thee from the justest wrath
* Of Sora's injur'd king ? Since Sora's fair
* Has been by Aldo of the little soul, 109
* Away convey'd : henceforth, who in their halls,
* Will now my people venture to receive,
* Or give the feast t-f strangers? Feeble hand,
* Go to thy hills — and hide thee in tliy caves :
* For mournful is the battle we must fight 104
* W^ith Sora's gloomy king of 'vengeful wrath !
* O noble Trenmor's ghost ! when shall Fingal
* From battle cease ? Amidst the strife of war
* I first drew breath, and in dire paths of blood
* Down to the grave must be my dreary way ! IIQ
* Yet, never did my hand the feeble liurt,
* Nor did my steel come near the weak in arms.
* Thy gath'ring tempests, that e'er long my halU
* Will overturn, O Morven, I behold :
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