Ossian Collection > Poems of Ossian

A P O E M. iu
rows of Morven purfued them : ten fell on
the moffy rocks. The reft lift the founding
fail, and hound on the troubled deep. Gaul
advanced towards the cave of Oithona. He
beheld a youth leaning on a rock. An arrow
had pierced his fide ; his eye rolled faintly be-
neath his helmet. The foul of Morni's fon
was fad, he came and fpoke the words of
peace.
" Can the hand of Gaul heal thee, youth
of the mournful brow ? I have fearched for
the herbs of the mountains ; I have gathered
them on the fecret banks of their ftreams.
Mv hand has clofed the wound of the brave,
their eyes have blefled the fon of Morni.
Where dwelt thy fathers, warrior ? Were they
of the fons of the mighty ? Sadnefs mail come,
like night, on thy native fireams. Thou art
fill 1 en in thy youth 1"
" My fathers," replied the ftranger, " were
of the race of the mighty ; but they fhall not
be fad ; for my fame is departed like morning
mift. High walls rife on the banks of Duv-
ranna ; and fee their moffy towers in the
ftream ; a rock afcends behind them with its
bending pines. Thou may ft behold it far
diiiant. There my brother dwells. He is
renowned in battle : give him this glittering
helm."
The helmet fell from the hand of Gaul.
It was the wounded Oithona ! She had armed
herfelf in the cave, and came in fcarch of
death. Her heavy eyes are half clofed ; the
blood