Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

422 The Poems of Ossian.
sand maids. He bound the aged Larthmor, and
dwelt in his sounding halls-- !
Long pined the king in his cave, beside his rolling
sea. Day did not come to his dwelling ; nor the
burning oak by night. But the wind of ocean was
there, and the parting beam of the moon. The red star
looked on the king, when it trembled on the western
wave. Snitho came to Selma's hall: Snitho the
friend of Larthmor's youth. He told of the king of
Ben-athon : the wrath of Fingal arose. Thrice he
assumed the spear, resolved to stretch his hand to
Uthal. But the memory of his deeds rose before
the king. He sent his son and Toscar. Our joy was
great on the rolling sea. We often half-unsheathed
our swords. For never before had we fought alone,
in battles of the spear.
Night came down on the ocean. The winds
departed on their wings. Cold and pale is the moon.
The red stars lift their heads on high. Our course is
slow along the coast of Berrathon. The white waves
tumble on the rocks. " What voice is that," said
Toscar, " which comes between the sounds of the
waves ? It is soft but mournful, like the voice of
departed bards. But I behold a maid. She sits on
the rock alone. Her head bends on her arm of snow.
Her dark hair is in the wind. Hear, son of Fingal,
her song ; it is smooth as the gliding stream." We
came to the silent bay, and heard the maid of night.
" How long will ye roll around me, blue-tumbling
waters of ocean ? My dwelling was not always in
caves, nor beneath the whistling tree. The feast
was spread in Tor-thoma's hall. My father de-
lighted in my voice. The youths beheld me in
the steps of my loveliness. They blessed the dark-
haired Nina-thoma. It was then thou didst come,
O Uthal ! like the sun of heaven ! The souls of
the virgins are thine, son of generous Larthmor
But why dost thou leave me alone, in the midst o\
roaring waters ? Was my soul dark with thy death ?