Ossian Collection > Fingal

CANTO y.
FINGAL.
When, of Carthollan's bojs, the best,
The last, the bravest, sunk to rest.
Veivion, thou sweet one, bring thy lyre,
And sing young Fillan's hapless fall ;
For social joy, and festal fire
Are dark'ned in Carthollan's hall."
Her lovely lyre, then Veivion strung
While pensive sadness shadowy hung
Upon her forehead fair,
And thus with plaintive voice she sung,
A melancholy air.
" The dark ghost of the mountain stood mourn-
fully beck'ning,
And the cave's moaning echo lamentingly sigh'd.
* Oh prepare,' cries the bard, ' for the war's
deadly reck'ning;
Sweet Emania, thy fields must with slaughter
be ^ycd.'