Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

CATHLIN OF CLUTHA. 241
'I Renown returns to Morvenlike a rising wind. Why
''art thou dark, chief of Clutha ? Is there cause for
'j grief."
M " Son of Ossian of harps, my soul is darkly sad.
T'd behold the arms of Cathmol, which he raised in
- !war. Take the mail of Cathlin, place it high in Sel-
' ' raa's hali, that thou may'st remember the hapless in
(thy distant land." From white bceasts descended
'the mail. It was the race of kings : the soft-hand-
'ed daughter of Cathmol, at the streams of Clutha !
IDuth-carmor saw her bright in the hall; he had
come by night to Clutha. Cathmol met him in bat-
Itle, but the hero fell. Three days dwelt the foe with
!the maid. On the fourth she fled in arms. She
! remembered the race of kings, and felt her bursting
Isoul!
-'-'■\ Why, maid of Toscar of Lutha, should I tell
;:(how Cathlin failed ? Her tomb is at rushy Lumon,
!i| in a distant land. Near it were the steps ofSul-
imalla, in the days of grief. She raised the song for
-I the daughter of strangers, and touched the mourn-
r.jfulharp.
■^ Come from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely
beam I