Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

414 OSSIAN
not. Deep is the sleep of the dead; low their pillow of
dust. No more shall he hear thy voice; no more awake
at thy call. When shall it be morn in the grave, to bid
the slumberer awake ? Farewell, thou bravest of men !
thou conqueror in the field ! but the field shall see thee
no more ; nor the dark wood be lightened with the
splendour of thy steel. Thou has left no son. The
song shall preserve thy name. Future times shall hear
of thee ; they shall hear of the fallen Morar !
The grief of all arose, but most the bursting sigh of
Armin.* He remembers the death of his son, who fell
in the days of his youth. Carmorf was near the hero,
the chief of the echoing Galmal. Why bursts the sigh
of Armin ? he said. Is there a cause to mourn ? The
song comes, with its music, to melt and please the soul.
It is like soft mist, that, rising from a lake, pours on
the silent vale ; the green flowers are filled with dew,
but the sun returns in his strength, and the mist is
gone. Why art thou sad, O Armin 1 chief of sea-
surrounded Gorma?
Sad I am ! nor small is my cause of woe ! Carmor,
thou hast lost no son ; thou hast lost no daughter of
beauty. Colgar the valiant lives ; and Annira, fairest
maid. The boughs of thy house ascend, O Carmor !
but Armin is the last of his race. Dark is thy bed, O
Daura ! deep thy sleep in the tomb ! When shalt thou
awake with thy songs ? with all thy voice of music ?
Arise, winds of autumn, arise ; blow along the heath !
streams of the mountains roar ! roar, tempests, in the
groves of my oaks ! walk through broken clouds, O
moon ! show thy pale face, at intervals ! bring to my
mind the night, when all my children fell ; when
Arindal the mighty fell ; when Daura the lovely failed 1
* Armin, a hero. He was chief or pretty king of Gorma — i.e.
the blue island, supposed to be one of the Hebrides,
t Cear-mor, a tall dark-complexioned man.