Ossian Collection > Ossian, his principal poems

284 THE SONGS OF SELMA.
" Armar ! my love, torment me not with fear ;
'Tis Daura calls ; hear, son of Ardnart^ hear."
Fleet o'er the rolling tide the traitor fled,
With smiles deriding the deluded maid.
" My father ! brother ! Armar ! help ! oh hear !"
She mournful cried ; it mournful reach'd the ear.
My son descended from the hill's steep face,
All rough and deck'd with trophies of the chase :
His trusty bow was grasp'd within his hand,
Five dogs pursued his steps along the strand;
He saw fierce Erach, and he seiz'd him bold,
A hide's thick thongs around his limbs are roU'd ;
Bound to an aged oak, he loudly moans,
He loads the winds with unavailing groans.
Swift in his boat my son divides the deep, —
'Twas Daura call'd, Daura was heard to weep.
The furious Armar from the beach dismiss'd
The feather'd shaft, — along the air it hiss'd,
And sinking deep, no more his heart was fir'd ;
.He fell, and as he reach'd the rock, expir'd.
My son ! my Arindal ! you timeless fell.
And in the traitor's place I live to tell.
Armar plung'd in, resolv'd to save the fair ;
He lash'd the flood, his brawny limbs all bare ;
Mounting the surgy wave, he left the shore,
A blast o'erwhelm'd him, and he rose no more !
Alone, and on the sea-beat rock, my child
Was heard complaining, all her accents wild!
Oh ! loud and frequent were her piteous cries,
Nor could her father's feeble aid suffice ;
All night her mournful wailings reach'd my ear,
All night I harrow'd was with dread and fear ;