Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

JV CARRRIC-THURA:
is mid-day : but all is filent. Sad are my
thoughts alone. Didft thou but appear, O my
love ! a wanderer on the heath ! thy hair
floating on the wind behind thee ; thy bofom
heaving on the fight ; thine eyes full of tears
for thy friends, whom the mift of the hill had
concealed ! Thee I would comfort, my love,
and bring thee to thy father's houfe !
But is it me that there appears, like a beam
of light on the heath ? bright as the moon in
autumn, as the fun in a fummer-ftorm, comeft
thou, O maid, over rocks, over mountains to
me ? She fpeaks : but how weak her voice 1
like the breeze in the reeds of the lake.
*' Returned thou fafe from the war ? Where
are thy friends, my love ? I heard of thy death
on the hill ; I heard and mourned thee, Shilric !
Yes, my fair, I return ; but I alone of my race.
Thou (halt fee them no more : their graves
I raiftd on the plain But why art thou on
the defert hill ? Why on the heath alone ?
" Alone I am, O Shilric ! alone in the
winter-houfe. With grief for thee I fell.
Shilric, I am pale in the tomb."
She fleets, fhe fails away ; as mift before
the wind ! and wilt thou not flay, Vinvela ?
Stay and behold my tears ! fair thou appeareft,
Vinvela ! fair thou waft, when alive !
By the mo fTy fountain I will fit ; on the
top of the hill of winds. When mid-day is
dent around, O talk with me, Vinvela ! come
on the light- winged gale ! on the breeze of
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