Skip to main content

‹‹‹ prev (279)

(281) next ›››

(280)
268 THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
I may touch it when the light of my soul shall arise.
Be thou near to learn the song ; future times shall
hear of me ! The sons of the feeble hereafter will
lift the voice of Cona ; and looking up to the rocks,
say, " Here Ossian dwelt." They shall admire the
chiefs of old, the race that are no more, while we
ride on our clouds, Malvina ! on the wings of the
roaring winds. Our voices shall be heard at times
in the desert ; we shall sing on the breeze of the
rock !

Images and transcriptions on this page, including medium image downloads, may be used under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence unless otherwise stated. Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Licence