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

A P O E M. 53
1 raifed my voice for Fovar-gormo , when
they laid the chief in earth. The aged Crothar
was there, but his figh was not heard. He
fearch-
Ghofts ride on the ftorm to-night. Sweet is
their voice between the fqualls of wind. Their
fongs are of other worlds. '
The rain is pall. The dry wind blows. Streams
roar , and windows Hap. Cold drops fall from
the roof. I fee the ftarry fky. But the fhower
gathers again. The weft fs gloomy and dark,
Night is ftormy and dismal; receive me , my
friends, from night.
Third Bard.
The wind ftill founds between the hills , and
whiftles through the grafs of the rock. The firs
fall from their place. , The turfy hut is torn.
The clouds, divided, fly over the fky, and fhew
the burning itars. The meteor, token of death!
flies fparkling through the gloom. It refls on
the hiil. I fee the withered fern , the dark-brow-
ed rock , the fallen oak. * Who is that in his
f hrowd beneath the tree , by the flream J
The waves dark -tumble on the lake, and lafh
its rocky fides. The boat is brimful in the cove;
D 3 the