Ossian Collection > Ossian, his principal poems

THE nVE BARDS. 293
FOURTH BARD.
The night is calm and fair ; the heaven
Starry and blue ; the clouds are driven
Far by the winds, that are sujDpress'd ;
And moonlight on the hills doth rest ;
Trees glitter ; shine the mountain streams ;
Bright rolls the lake its moon-reflecting beams.
The scatter'd shocks of corn I see
Upon the plain, and fallen tree ;
The wakeful hind the shocks rebuilds,
And whistles on the distant fields.
The night is settled, calm, and fair ;
But who is flitting in the air ? —
She from the dead, in robe of snow.
With golden tresses on her brow.
Chief of the people's lovely child.
Beneath the spear of death who smiled !
Come, lovely maid, and bless our sight.
Thou, in whom heroes took delight !
Ha ! on the blast the phantom flies ;
Formless it melts into the skies.
Blue mists across the valley fleet,
And on the hill the grey clouds meet.
The moon throughout the heavens is bright ;
The night is starry, calm, and blue ;
Receive me not, my friends, from night, —
The night is lovely to my view.