Ossian Collection > Works of Ossian, the son of Fingal > Volumes 3 and 4

A N ]. PIC P O E lU 33
d:ty of our £aU, Then let us be renowned,
when we may; and IcTive our i>.me behind us,
like the laft beams of the fan, when he hides
his red head in the weft.
UUln, my aged bard! take the inlp of tlie
king. Carry Ofcar to Selma of harps. Let the
daughters of Morven v/eep. We fhall fjght in
Erin for the race of fallen Cormac. The days
of my years begin to fail : I feel the weakncfs
of my arm. My fathers bend from their clouds,
to receive tbelir groy - hair'd fon. But, before
I o-o jience , one beam of fame fliall rife : fo
iliall my days end , as my years- begun , in fa-
me : my life iliall be one llream of light to
bards of other tim.es.
Uilin raifd his white fails : the wind of
the fouth came forth. He bounded on the wa-
ves towards Selma. — ^^) I remained in my
grief, but my words were not heard. — The
feaft is fpread on Moi - lena : Qn hundred heroes
reared the tomb of Cairbar : but no fong is
raifed over the chief: for his foul had been
dark and bloody. The bards remembered the
fall of CormacI what could tliey fay in Cuir-
bar's praife ?
Th:;
*"•' ) The poet fpeaks in his own vQifcir.
f