Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 1

268 COM ALA:
COMALA.
He is returned with his fame ! I feel the
right hand of his wars ! But I must rest beside
the rock till my soul returns from my fear ! O
let the harp be near ! raise the song, ye daugh-
ters of Morni !
DERSAGRENA.
Comala has slain three deer on Ardven, the
fire ascends on the rock ; go to the feast of Co-
mala, king of the woody Morven !
Raise, ye sons of song, the wars of the
streamy Carun; that my white-handed maid
may rejoice : while I behold the feast of my
love.
BARDS.
Roll, streamy Carun, roll in joy, the sons of
battle are fled ! The steed is not seen on our
fields ; the wings ^ of their pride spread in other
lands. The sun will now rise in peace, and the
shadows descend in joy. The voice of the chase
will be heard ; the shields hang in the hall. Our
delight will be in the war of the ocean, our
I
Perhaps the poet alludes to the Roman eagle.