Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

SUL-MALLA OF LUMON :
A POEM.
WHO moves so stately, on Lumon, at the roai of
the foamy waters ? Her hair falls upon her
heaving breast. White is her arm behind, as slow she
bends the bow. Why dost thou wander in deserts, like
a light through a cloudy field ? The young roes are
panting, by their secret rocks. Return, thou daughter of
kings ! the cloudy night is near ! It was the young branch
of green Inis-huna, Sul-malla of blue eyes. She sent
the bard from her rock, to bid us to her feast. Amidst
the song we sat down, in Cluba's echoing hall. White
moved the hands of Sul-malla, on the trembling strings.
Half-heard amidst the sound, was the name of Atha's
king : he that was absent in battle for her own green
land. Nor absent from her soul was he ; he came
midst her thoughts by night. Ton-thena looked in, from
the sky, and saw her tossing arms.
The sound of shells had ceased. Amidst long locks,
Sul-malla rose. She spoke with bended eyes, and
asked of our course through seas; "for of the kings of
men are ye, tall riders of the wave." " Not unknown," I
said, "at his streams is he, the father of our race.