Ossian Collection > Morison's edition of the Poems of Ossian, the son of Fingal

AN EPIC POEM. ftp
of the weft are clofed on the fun's eagle-eye.
Wide, over Lara's ftream, is poured the vapour
dark and deep : the moon, like a dim fhield, is
fwimming through its folds. With this, clothe
the fpirits of old their fudden geftures on the wind,
when they ftride, from blaft to blaft, along the
duiky face of the night. Often blended with the
gale, to fome warrior's grave ^ they roll the miftj
a gray dwelling to his ghoft, until the fongs arife.
A found came from the defart ; the rufhin?
courfe of Conar in winds. He poured his deep
mift on Fillan, at blue-winding Lubar. Dark and
mournful fat the ghoft, bending in his gray ridge
of fmoke. The blaft, at times, rolled him toge-
ther : but the lovely form returned again. It re^
turned with flow-bending eyes ; and dark winding
bf locks of mift.
It was f" dark. The fleeping hoft were ftill, in
the ikirts of night. The flame decayed, on the
hill of Fingal ; the king lay lonely on his fhield.
His eyes were half- clofed in fleep ; the voice of
Fillan came. «« Sleeps the huftjand of Clatho ?
Dwells the father of the fallen in reft .-' Am I for-
got in the folds of darknefs ; lonely in the feafon
of dreams ?"
" Why art thou in the midft of my dreams ?"
faid Fingal, as, fudden, he rofe ! *' Can I forget
Vol. IL M thee.