Ossian Collection > Galic antiquities

A P O E M. 339
her little children fly, to hide their heads in mofs ; and calls the
danger to herfelf, tili they are fafe.
Peace be to the aged, faid Ronnan, as he took him by the
hand. Peace be to the child, faid I, as in my arms I took him
back. We are not come from Lava ; neither do our fwords bring
death to the feeble. No, their fafety is behind our fhields : there-
fore reft thou here, and tell the caufe of thy tear6.
" Here I will reft: here is the clay-cold dwelling of my fon. To
mourn over it am I come with his child. How filent under this
peaceful ftone art thou now, my fon ; thou whirlwind in the ftorm
of battle ! Silent is thy tongue, and weak thy arm : thy beauty is
decayed, like the faded flower ; and thy ftrength, like the wither-
ed oak, hath failed. Lamor ! where is the boaft of man, when the
clod is become thy fellow ? Only one fun hath run his courfe fince
thou didft, like him, rejoice in thy ftrength, and gladden the dim
eyes of thy father. Like him too, darknefs, thick darknefs, forms
now thy covering. Yet his light fhall return, and he will again
lift his dewy locks in the eaft, and rejoice. But when fhall thy
long, long night, my fon, be over; when fhall the (lumberer of the
tomb arife from his filent dwelling ? But thou lifted thy head,
my fon, in other lands ; and wandered over brighter fields with
heroes. — Weep on,0 ftrangers ! for he that is low was brave; and
his foul, like your own, was a ftream that flowed when the tale
was mournful."
Weep for him we do, faid Ronnan: but how is he fallen fo
foon ; was it by the hand of Lava ?
" It was ; and for no other caufe, but that he loved the friend-
lefs. But in this my fon was like his fathers. It was the mark of our
U u 2 race,