Ossian Collection > Gaelic bards

SIR LACHLAN MOR. 233
Two that walk in silent sorrow —
Ladies of his kindred are —
Mourning, to the field of slaughter
Come to seek him from afar.
As they drive him slowly onward,
O'er the bad and broken way,
His head, witli all its matted tresses,
Nodded wdiere he lifeless lay.
Then the driver laugh'd who saw him,
Large and massy, lie along,
Senseless, soulless — him so lately
Foremost in the martial throng.
Laugh'd ! and quicker drove him onward.
Yet again to see the head
Nodding, without will or reason.
With its light of manhood fled.
Nodding at the boor who jeered him
With that mean, malicious scorn,
Nursed in secret by the envy
In the vulgar spirit born.
Then the ladies hastened forward —
Not a word the younger said.
While her tears rained down in anguish
On the wan face of the dead.
But the elder damsel answered : —
"Laugh'st thou at my fallen chief]
May thine own vile carcase, caitiff,
Fill thy mother's heart with grief ! "