Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

TESIORA. 4' 9
me to my hills ! Raise the stones of my renown.
Place the hom of a deer : place my sword l)y
my side. The torrent hereafter may raise the
earth : the hunter may find the steel, and say,
" This has been Oscar's sword, the pride of
other years !'' 'Fallest thou, son of my fame ?
shall I never seo thee, Oscar ? When others
hear of their son;^, shall I not hear of thee ? The
moss is on thy four gray stones. The mourn-
ful wind is there. The battle shall be fought
without thee. Thou shalt not pursue the dark-
brown hinds. When the warrior returns from
battles, and tells of other lands ; " 1 have seen
a tomb," he will say, "by the roaring stream,
the dark dwelling of a chief. He fell by car-
borne Oscar, the first of mortal men." I, per-
haps, shall hear his voice, A beam of joy will
rise in my soul.'
INight would have descended in sorrow, and
morning returned in the shadow of grief. Our
chiefs would have stood, like cold dropping rocks
on Moi-lena, and have forgot the war ; did not
the king disperse his grief, and raise his mighty
voice. The chiefs as new-wakened from dreams,
lift up their heads around.
* How long on Moi-lena shall we weep ? Hov\r
long pour in Erin our tears ? The mighty will
not return. Oscar shall not rise in his strength.
The valiant must fall in their dny, and be no
more known on their hills. Where are our
fathers, O warriors ! the chiefs of the times of
old ? They have set like stars, that have shone.
We only hear the sound of their praise. But
they were renowned in their years : the terror
of other times. Thus shall we pass away, in
the day of our fall. Then let us be renowned
when we may ; and leave our fame behind us,
like the last beams of the sun, when he hides
feis red head in the west. Tho travtller mourna