Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 2

'479
Seen ou the shores of the gieus "
Wex'e their winding grey-streamed brooks.
Heard was the shield of warlike Ca-mor ;
Eoused was the race of Erin of Bolgi
385 Like the swelling sea, when shrilly stirs
A sound of storm on the face of the skies — -
Billows roll from side to side,
Swaying their grey witless heads,
Not knowing the course of ocean.
DUAN YII.
Ca-mor's host
was aroused
by his shield,
and foi' a time
tossed liither
and thither,
like waves at
the very com-
mencement
of a storm.
.390 Sadly and slowly to Lona of streams
Moved Sulvalla of soft kind eye :
The maiden moved, and turned in giief,
Her blue eyes raining warm tears.
When she came to the rugged rock,
305 Beetling dark o'er Lona's narrow glen,
She looked, her reason reeling,''
On Atha's king, and downward sank.
" Strike the string, thou sou of tuneful Alpin !
Is there joy in the harp amid clouds ?
400 Shed (it) on Ossian — his sigh is heavy ;
His soul is swimming in mist.
Thou hast been heard, bard ! in my night ;
But far from me be the cheerful strain.
Soft mourning is joy to Ossian
405 In the sombre years of age.
Sulvalla with-
draws to
Lona ; taking
- last look at
Ca-mor, is
overpowered
with fjrief,
and faints.
Ossian calls
on the son of
Alpin to sing
mournlul
strains —
she came to the rock that darkly covered Lona's vale, she looked
from her bursting soul on the king, and sank at once behind.
" Son of Alpin, strike the string ! Is there aught of joy in the
harp ? Pour it, then, on the soul of Ossian ; it is folded in mist.
I hear thee, bard ! in my night. But cease the lightly -trembUng
sound. The joy of grief belongs to Ossian amidst his dark-brown years.