Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 1

C R O M A:
A POEM.
" It was the voice of my love ! seldom art thou
in the dreams of Malvina! Open your airy halls,
fathers of Toscar of shields ! Unfold the gates
of your clouds: the steps of Malvina are near.
1 have heard a voice in my dream. I feel the
fluttering of my soul. Why didst thou come,
O blast ! from the dark-rolling face of the lake ?
Thy rustling wing was in the tree ; the dream
of Malvina tied. But she beheld her love, when
his robe of mist flew on the wind. A sun-beam
was on his skirts, they glittered like the gold of
the stranger. It was the voice of my love !
seldom comes he to my dreams ! "
" But thou dwellest in the soul of Malvina,
son of mighty Ossian ! My sighs arise with the
beam of the east; my tears descend with the
drops of night. I was a lovely tree, in thy pre-
sence, Oscar, with all my branches round me;
but thy death came like a blast from the desert,