Ossian Collection > Fingal

ii6 CONLATH and CUTHONA:
fell. — Ullin * ! with thy hills of grafs, ho\v plea-
fant are thy vales ! Silence is near thy blue ftreams,
and the fun is on thy fields. Soft is the found ot
the harp in Selama t, and lovely the cry of the
hunter on Cromla. But we are in the dark I-thona,
farrounded by the ftorm. The billows lift their
white heads above our rocks: and we tremble
amidft the night.
ToscAR.
Whither is the foul of battle fled, Fercuth
with the locks of age ? I have feen thee undaunted
in danger, and thine eyes burning with joy in the
fight. Whither is the foul of battle fied ? Our fa-
thers never feared. — Go: view the fettling fea:
the ftormy wind is laid. The billov/s fcill trem-
ble X on the deep, and feem to fear the blaft. But
view the fettling fea : morning is gray on our
rocks. The fun will foon look from his eafl: ; in
all his pride of light.
I LIFTED up my fails, with joy, before the
halls of generous Conlath. My courfe was by the
ifle of waves, where his love purfued the deer. I
faw her, like that beam of the fun that iifues from
the cloud. Her hair was on her heaving breaft ;
fhe, bending forward, drew the bow: her white
arm feem.ed, behind her, like the fnow of Cromla :
— Come to my foul, I faid, thou huntrefs of the
ille of waves ! But fhe fpends her time in tears,
and thinks of the generous Conlath. Where can
I find thy peace, Cuthona, lovely maid !
Cut HON A.
* Ulfter in Ireland.
t Sehmdith^beauiiful lo behoU, the name of Tofcar's
palace, on the coail of Ulfter, near the mountain Cromla
the fcene of the epic poem.
X the face of ocean fleeps,
And a ftill horror faddens all the deeps. Pope's Homer.