Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

40 OSSIAN
along. The old tree groans in the wind. The lake is
troubled before thee ; dark are the clouds of the sky 1
But thou art snow on the heath ; thy hair is the mist of
Cromla; when it curls on the hill ; when it shines to the
beam of the west ! Thy breasts are two smooth rocks
seen from Branno of streams. Thy arms, like two white
pillars in the halls of the great Fingal." *
"From whence," the fair-haired maid replied, "from
whence, Duchomar, most gloomy of men? Dark are
thy brows and terrible ! Red are thy rolling eyes !
Does Swaran appear on the sea? What of the foe,
Duchomar?" "From the hill I return, O Morna, from
the hill of the dark-brown hinds. Three have I slain
with my bended yew. Three with my long-bounding
dogs of the chase. Lovely daughter of Cormac, I love
thee as my soul ! I have slain one stately deer for thee.
High was his branchy head ; and fleet his feet of
wind." "Duchomar!" calm the maid replied, "I love
thee not, thou gloomy man ! hard is thy heart of rock ;
dark is thy terrible brow. But Càthba, young son of
Torman,t thou art the love of Morna. Thou art a sun-
beam, in the day of the gloomy storm. Sawest thou
the son of Torman, lovely on the hill of his hinds?
Here the daughter of Cormac waits the coming of
Càthba ! "
"Long shall Morna wait," Duchomar said, "long
shall Morna wait for Càthba ! Behold this sword un-
sheathed ! Here wanders the blood of Càthba. Long
shall Morna wait. He fell by the stream of Branno I
On Croma I will raise his tomb, daughter of blue-
shielded Cormac ! Turn on Duchomar thine eyes ; his
arm is strong as a storm." " Is the son of Torman
* " Pillars in the Hall of Fingal," though a beautiful
simile, is bringing the era of Ossian down to that of Mac-
pherson. C.
t Torman, tlmnder. This is the true origin of the Jupiter
Taramis of the ancients. M.