Ossian Collection > Ossian, his principal poems

294 THE FIVE BARDS.
FIFTH BAED.
Calm, but dark the night ; a cloud
Doth in the west the moon enshroud ;
Across the hill her feeble beam
Moves slov/ly ; sovinds the distant stream ;
The torrent murmui-s on the rock ;
From the booth is heard the cock.
Past is more than half the night ;
The housewife Avakes the djing light ;
The kindled fire dispels the gloom ;
The hunter thinks that morn is come :
He calls his nimble dogs around,
Whistling he goes, and at the sound,
With him o'er gloomy hills they bound ;
The cloud, with blasts dispersing, flees ;
The north's star-circled plough he sees ;
Much of the night to pass remains ;
Against the mossy rock he leans.
Hark ! the wood a whirlwind shakes,
A murmur low the valley wakes ;
The armies of the dead are there.
Returning from the crowded air.
The moon behind the mountain sleeps,
Beyond that lofty rock she peeps ;
The shadows of the trees are tall ; —
Now thickest darkness covers all.
Wide the dreadful gloom extends ; —
Eeceive me from tlie night, my friends.