Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

CiiOHA. 253
banks, with all their glittering arms. We fought along
the vale. They fled. Rothmar sunk heneath nr.y
sword ! Day had not descended in the west, when I
brought his arms to Crothar. The aged hero felt thenr
with his hands ; and joy brightened over all his thoughts
The people gather to the hall ! The shells of the
feast are heard. Ten harps are strung ; five bards ad-
vance, and sing, by turns, the praise of Ossian ; they
poured fourth their burning souls, and the string an-
swered to their voice. The joy of Croma was great ;
for peace returned to the land. Tlie night came on
with silence ; the morning returned with joy. No foe
came in darkness with his glittering spear. The joy
of Croma was great ; for the gloomy Rothmar had
fallen !
I raised my voice for Fovar-gormo, when they laid
the chief in earth. The aged Crothar was there, but
his sigh was not heard. He searched for the wound
of his son, and found it in his breast. Joy rose in the
face of the aged. He came and spoke to Ossian.
" King of spears !" he said, " my son has not fallen
without his fame. The young warrior did not fly; but
met death as he went forward in his strength. Happy
are they who die in youth, when their renown is heard !
The feeble will not behold them in the hall ; or smile
at their trembling hands. Their memory shall be hon-
ored in song ; the young tear of the virgin will fall.
But the aged wither away by degrees ; the fame of
their youth, while yet they live, is all forgot. They
fall in secret. The sigh of their son is not heard. Joy
is around their tomb ; tiie stone of their fame is placed
without a tear. Happy are they who die in their youth,
when their renown is around them l"
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