Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

OINA-MORUL. 231
resounding stream : the foe moved to the sound of Ton.
thormod's bossy shield. From wing to wing the strife
was mixed. I met Ton-thormod in fight. Wide flew
his broken stee). I seized the king in war. I gave
his hand, fast bound with thongs, to Mal-orchol, the
giver of shells. Joy rose at the feast of Fuarfed, for
the foe had failed. Ton-thormod turned his face away
from Oina-morul of isles.
Son of Fingal, began Mal-orchol, not forgot shalt thou
pass from me. A hght shall dwell in thy ship, Oina-
morul of slow-rolling eyes. She shall kindle gladness
along thy mighty soul. Nor unheeded shall the maid
move in Selma through the dwelling of kings.
In the hall I lay in night. Mine eyes were half
closed in sleep. Soft music came to mine ear. It was
like the rising breeze, that whirl? at first the thistle'3
beard, then flies dark-shadowy over the grass. It was
the maid of Fuarfed wild ! she raised the nightly song j
she knew that my soul was a stream that flowed at
pleasant sounds. " Who looks," she said, " from his
rock on ocean's closing mist ? His long locks like the
raven's wing, are wandering on the blast. — Stately are
his steps in grief! The tears are in his eyes! His
manly breast is heaving over his bursting soul! Retire,
I am distant afar, a wanderer in lands unknown.
Though the race of kings are around me, yet my soul
is dark. Why have our fathers been foes, Ton-thor-
mod, love of maids !"
" Soft voice of the streamy isle," I said, " why dost
thou mourn by night ? The race of daring Trenmoi
are not the dark in soul. Thou shalt not wander by
streams unknown, blue-eyed Oina-morul ! within this
bosom is a voice : it comes not to other ears : it bids
Ossian hear the hapless in their hour of wo. Retire,
soft singer by night ! Ton-thormod shall not mom-a oa
his rock !"