Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

job OITHONA:
flrows its withered leaves on the blaft ? Why
didft thou come, O Gaul ! to hear my depart-
ing figh ? I vanifh in my youth ; my name
fhall not be heard. Or it will be heard with
grief; the tears of Nuath muft fall. Thou
wilt be fad, fon of Morni ! for the departed
fame of Oithona. But fhe fhall fleep in the
narrow tomb, far from the voice of the
mourner. Why didft thou come, chief of
Strumon i to the lea-beat rocks of Trorrui-
tnon ?
" I came to meet thy foes, daughter of car-
borne Nuiith ! The death of Cuthal's chief
darkens before me ; or Morni's fon fhall fall !
Oithona ! when Gaul is low, raife my tomb
on that oozy rock. When the dark-bounding
ihip mall pafs, call the fons of the fea ! call
them, and give this fword, to bear it hence to
Morni's hail. The grey-haired chief will then
ceafe to look towards the defert for the return,
of his fon !"
" Shall the daughter of Nuath live ?" fhe
replied with a burfting figh. C5 ' Shall I live in
Tromathon, and the fon of Morni low ? My
heart is not of that rock ; nor my foul care-
lefs as that fea ; which lifts its blue waves to
every wind, and rolls beneath the ftorm ! The
blaft which fhall lay thee low, fhall fpread the
branches of Oithona on earth. We fhall
wither together, fon of car-borne Morni !
The narrow houfe is pleafant to me, and the
grey ftone of the dead : for never more will
I Jeave thy rocks, O fta-iurrounded Troma-
thon !