Hew Morrison Collection > Dàn an Deirg; agus, Tiomna Ghuill (Dargo and Gaul)

GAUL. 57
Shall I lioist my sails,
Since no friend is near me 1
But how then shall they raise the song,
IGO Should any cloud arise
Upon the fame of Morni's son Ì
"What shall Fingal say, who was wont,
In the fierce combat's furious storm,
To speak to his bold sons, saying,
165 " Mark ye the path of the son of Morni !"
And thou, Morni, should'st thou behold
Thy son from the field retiring,
Would no blush o'erspread thy aged face
In presence of the cloud- wrapped heroes Ì
170 Would not thy sigh be heard upon the breeze
In Strumon's lonely vale,
"When the ghosts of the feeble should say,
" Thy son fled in I-frona V
O Morni, this were hard to me !
175 The soul within my breast is as fire on the heath,
When it spreads impetuous from bush to bush.
And the forest glows red in the roaring flame.
O Morni, behold me in the field !
Ardent Avas thy soul as a surging torrent, [bed;
180 When foams its white crest in its narrow rocky
And such here is the soul of thy son.
Ew-coma ! — Og'àl ! —
But mild sunbeams belong not to storms.
The soul of Gaul is in the strokes of battle.
185 Woe is me that Ossian, son of Fingal,
Is not with me, as in the day of Mac Nua !