Ossian Collection > Ossian, his principal poems

Coinuil anir Criniora:
Dark Autumn noAv assumes its fading reign,
The blue grey mist creeps slowly o'er the hill ;
Dark rolls the river through the narrow plain,
And from the uplands bursts the new swoU'n rill.
On yonder heath there stands a lonely tree,
And there, Connal ! thy sad grave is found ;
And still its falling leaves it strews on thee,
Still by the whirlwind borne in eddies round.
Here oft at twilight gray, or purple dawn,
As o'er the heath the musing hunter hies.
The sheeted ghost stalks o'er the dewy lawn,
Or haunts the dreary grave where Connal lies.
Thy race, Connal ! who shall strive to trace ?
Or Avho through ages past thy sires can tell ?
As the tall oak, torn from its native place,
They grew, they flourished, and in thee they fell.