Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian > Volume 1

6^ CATITIION :
soul has been mournful for Cartlion : he fell in
the days of his youlh ; and thou, O Clessammor!
where is thy dvicWiws, in the wind ? Has the
youth forgot his wound ? Flies he on clouds v/ith.
thee ? I ftel the sun, O Malvina ! leave me to
jnj rest. Perhaps they may come to my dreams ;
I think I hear a feeble voice ! The beam of hea-
ven delights to shine on the grave of Carthon; I
feel it M arm around !
O thou that roilest above, round as the shield
of my fathers ! Whence are thy bu'anis, O sun !
thy everlasting light ? Tliou comest forth in thy
awful beauty ; the stars hide themselves in the
sky ; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the west-
ern w ave ; but thou thyself movest alone. Who
can be a companion of thy course? The oaks of
the mountains fall ; the mountains themselves de-
cay with years ; the ocean shrinks and grows
again ; the moon herself is lost in heaven ; but
thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the bright-
ness of thy course. When the world is dark with
tempests, when thunder rolls and hghtning flies,
thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and
laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest
in vain, for he bi^hokls thy beams no more; whe-
ther thy yellow hair Hows on the eastern clouds,
or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But
thou art perhaps like me, for a season, thy years
will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds,
careless of the voice of the morning. Exult then,
O sun, in the strength of thy youth ! age is dark
and unlovely ; it is like the glimmering light of
the moon when it shines througli broken clouds,
and the mist is on the hills ; the blast of north is
on the plain, the traveller shrinks in the midst of
his journey.