Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

248 The Poems of Ossian.
thou art snow on the heath : thy hair is the mist
of Cromla ; when it curls on the hill, when it
shines to the beam of the west ! Thy breasts are
t'vo smooth rocks seen from Branno of streams.
Tliy arms, like two white pillars in the halls ot
llie great Fingal.'
" ' From whence,' the fair-haired maid replied.
' from whence, Duchomar, most gloomy of men ?
Dark are thy brows and terrible ! Red are thy
rolling eyes ? Does Swaran appear on the sea ?
What of the foe, Duchomar ?" ' From the hill I
return, O Morna, from the hill of the dark-brown
hinds. Three have I slain with my bended yew.
Three with my long-bounding dogs of the chase.
Lovely daughter of Cormac, I love thee as my
soul ! I have slain one stately deer for thee.
High was his branchy head — and fleet his feet of
wind, — 'Duchomar!' calm the maid replied, 'I
love thee not, thou gloomy man ! hard is thy heart
of rock ; dark is thy terrible brow. But, Cathba,
young son of Torman, thou art the love of Morna.
Thou art a sunbeam, in the day of the gloomy
storm. Sawest thou the son of Torman, lovely on
the hill of his hinds ! Here the daughter of Cormac
waits the coming of Cathba !'
"'Long shall Morna wait,' Duchomar said,
' long shall Morna wait for Cathba ! Behold this
sword unsheathed ! Here wanders the blood of
Cathba. Long shall Morna wait. He fell by the
stream of Branno ! On Croma I will raise his
tomb, daugliter of blue-shielded Cormac ! Turn
on Duchomar thine eyes ; his arm is strong as a
storm.' 'Is the son of Torman fallen?' said the
tvildly-bursting voice of the maid ; ' is he fallen on
his echoing hills, the youth with the breast of
snow ? the first in the chase of hinds ? the foe of
the strangers of ocean ? Thou art dark* to me,
Duchomar, cruel is thine arm to Morna ! Give
♦ She alludes to his uame, 'the dark man.*