Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

202 The Poems of Ossian.
green head low. The spring returned with its
showers ; no leaf of mine arose ! The virgins saw
me silent in the hall ; they tcx died the harp of
joy. The tear was on the cheek of Malvina : the
virgins beheld me in my grief. Why art thou sad ?
they said, thou first of the maids of Lutha ! Was
he lovely as the beam of the morning, and stately
in thy sight?"
Pleasant is thy song in Ossian 's ear, daughter of
streamy Lutha ! Thou hast heard the music of
departed bards in the dream of thy rest, when
sleep fell on thine eyes, at the murmur of Moruth.
When thou didst return from the chase, in the day
of the sun, thou hast heard the music of bards,
and thy song is lovely ! it is lovely, O Malvina !
but it melts the soul. There is a joy in grief,
when peace dwells in the breast of the sad. But
son-ow wastes the mournful, O daughter of Toscar !
and their days are few ! They fall away, like the
flower on which the sun hath looked in his strength,
after the mildew has passed over it, when its head
is heavy with the drops of night. Attend to the
tale of Ossian, O maid ! He remembers the days
of his youth.
The king commanded ; I raised my sails, and
rushed into the bay of Croma ; into Croma's sound-
ing bay in lovely Inisfail.* High on the coast arose
the towers of Crothar, king of spears ; Crothar
renowned in the battles of his youth ; but age dwelt
then around the chief. Rothmar had i-aised the
sword against the hero ; and the wrath of Fingal
burned. He sent Ossian to meet Rothmar in war,
for the chief of Croma was the friend of his youth.
I sent the bard before me with songs. I came into
the hall of Crothar. There sat the chief amidst
the arms of his fathers, but his eyes had failed.
His grey locks waved around a staff, on which the
warrior leaned. He hummed the song of other
* Iiiisr.iil, one of (lie ancictit names of Irtland.