Ossian Collection > Fingal

CANTO 11. FINGAL. 67
Hast'ning, departed. From her sleep
Now wakes Gelchossa, sighing deep,
Falt'ring she whispers thus : " Thou save !
Thou rescue from the death ! Away !
Lovelier than thou, in brightest day,
Is midnight's cloud upon the tomb.
Away ! Gelchossa loves her doom.
Life ! — if life Arrathon bestows.
She hates, she scorns its trembling flame ;
Go ! leave Gelchossa to repose.
Thou hast preserv'd thy priestly name,
The bonds of infamy tliou'st given,
This heart too heavily have press'd ;
For e'en the holy balm of heav'n,
Unless death-pour'd, to heal with rest.
My father ! — thou ? — Is this the grave ?
Has then Gelchossa found her home ?"
*' My child, my love, why dost thou rave ?
To thy fond father's bosom come.'
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