Ossian Collection > Ossian, his principal poems

272
Oh ! bear me in a tempest of the wind,
And waft from me this madness of the mind !
-Morna for me had long her love confess'd,
And, often urged, had vow'd she'd make me bless'd ;
When lo ! to blast our joys, young Rodnor came ;
He saw, he lov'd, and quick avowed his flame.
The graceful Rodnor, armed with every art.
To soften virtue, and seduce the heart ;
His manly step was firm, erect, and bold,
His shoulders were o'erspread with locks of gold :
Yet was his breast a store of endless wiles.
At pleasure could he dress his face in smiles.
Distrust I then received within my breast ;
The days seem'd long, my nights were robb'd of rest ;
Suspicious and revengeful 1 became,
I thought that Morna eager met his flame ;
I thought I saw a mutual passion rise,
Glow on her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes.
Suspicion, deepest torment of the brain.
The strength of misery, the soul of pain,
Rack'd my torn hours, pour'd venom on my mind,
Deaf to all love, to all compassion blind.
I sought young Rodnor, panting for the fight ;
He fled with Morna, partner of his flight ;
Swift as the lightning from the bursting cloud,
When rolling thunders echo long and loud,
I came upon them on the verdant plain ;
The traitor Rodnor instantly was slain ;
Fire in my face, and fury in my eyes,
T heeded not the lovely 3Iorna's cries ;
Low at my feet for mercy she implor'd.
Through her fair breast I pass'd the shining .sword.