Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

A POEM. 29
Down from her shoulders then I tore the mail.
Her snowy breast appcar'd. — She to the ground 240
' In blushes bent her face. I to the chiefs
In silence look'd. The spear fell from my hand,
|i And heaving from my bosom 'rose the sigh.
[ But — when I heard the virgin's name, my tears
j In crowds descended.— The fair beam of youth 245
I I bless'd, and bade the angry battle move.
Son of the rock, why now should Ossian tell
How Teutha's warriors dy'd ? — Now in their land
They are forgot, and in the shadowy heath
I Their tombs are not discern'd. On with their storms, 250
} Years came, and the green mounds decay'd entire.
Scarce is the grave of faH'n Dunthalmo seen.
And scarcely known is the lone distant place
I Where, by the spear of Ossian slain, he fell,
'Some hoary warrior now, purblind with age, 255
' Sitting by night beside the flaming oak
( Of the high hall ; rehearses to his sons
; My actions and the dark Dunthalmc's fall,
I Rous'd with the tale, the faces of the youth
Sidelong are bent, attentive to his voice, 260
j $Vith joy and wonder burning in their eyes.
Rathmor's brave son bound to an oak I found,
And from his hands my sabre cut the thongs.
I unto him white-bosom'd Colmal gave.
In Teutha's halls in peaceful quiet they dwelt, 2Gf>
And Ossian back to tow'rins Selma came.
END OF CALTHON AND COLMAL.
Vol. it.