Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1853-03-10

sent Stormal, son oil Moran, to bury
them, but forgot TO send bard to
sing the funeral song over their
tombs.s The ghost Of Conlath comes,
long after, TO Ossian. to eEtreat him
to transmit 10 posterity his and
Cuthona's fame. For it was the
opinion Of the times, that the souls
of The deceased were not happy till
their elegies were composed by
bard.
Did not Ossian hear a voice? or is
1t the sound of days that are no more? oft
Does the mem'ry of former times come. like
The evening sun, on my soul,--the noise is
Renew'd,--In thought, lift the spear, but sure
Ossian did hear voice Who art thou,
Son of night?-tbe children of the feeble
Are asleep-the midnight wind is in my
Hall. Perhaps it is the shield of Fingal
That echoes to The blast-it hangs up in
Ossian's hall-.he feels it sometimes with
His hands. Yes! hear tbee, my friend! long
'' has
Thy voice been absent from my ear!-what
brings
Thee, on thy cloud, to 0ssian, son of
Gen,rous Mornii Are the friends Of the ag'd
near
Thee where is Oscar, son of fame?-he was
Often near thee, o, Conlath, when the sound
OF battle arose,---rot0 UOice Is heard.
GHOST OF CoNLATH.
Sleeps the sweet voice Of Coma, in the midst
or bis rustling hall! sleeps Ossian in
His hall and his friends without their fame ! the
Sea rolls round dark I-thona, our tombs are
Not seen in our isle, how long shall our fame
Be unheard, son of resounding Selma{
Oss1AN.
O that mine ewes could behold thee thou utGt
Sittest, dim on thy cloud art thou like the
Mist of Iona, a half extinguish'd one?
Meteor of fire, Of what are the skirts
or thy robe? ?-of what is thine airy bow!
He is gone on his blast like the shade of
A wandering cloud,-come from thy wnll o,
harp! str- 81.
Let me hear thy sound,-let the light of Thy
Mem'ry arise on I-thona,--let me
Behold again my frIends-a Ossian
Does behold his friends on the dark, blue isle.
The cave of Thona appears, with all Its rs
Messy rocks and bending trees, "a stream roars
At its mouth. Toscar bends o'er its course
---il and
Fercuth is sad by his side. Cuthona+
u pot---ooSs
OF the waves deceive me Tor do hear
Them speak. 80 20 --,-r7
.fzrA g. ToscAR. :-r-
The night was stormy, from their hills the (talD
Gtoanlng oaks came down--the sea darkly rose
And tumbI'd beneath the blast-the roaring
Waves ciim'd against ouE rocks-the lightning
came -- --'-s
Oft and show'd the blasted fern. Fercuthi |
Saw the ghost who embroird the night, silent
he ..
Stood, on that bank, his robe of mist few on
The wind. / could behold his tears---an ag'd
Man be seem'd, and full of thought.
u FERcUTH. .ls-t
Twas thy father, o Toscar,--he forsees
Some death among his race--such his 'pearance
On Crornia, before the great Maronnana
Fen,-Erin of hills of grass! how pleasant
Are thy vales?--silenee is near thy blue
streams
The sun is on thy fields---soft is the sound
OF the harp in Selama, lovely the
Cryof the hunter on Cromla- we
Are in dark I-thoua, surrounded by
The storm--the billows lift their white headi
Our tocks---we tremble so amid't the night.
f-f. ToscAR.
Whittier is soul of battle ied---Fereuih,
With locks of age? have reen the truly
Undaunted in danger; thine eyes burning
With Joy in the hght---whither is the soul
OF battle fed! Our fathers never fesr'd--
Go, view the settling sea; the stormy wind
Is laid--the billows still tremble on the
Deep--they seem to fear the blast---go view tn
Settling sea---morning IS gray on our rocks.
The sun will look soon from his east, in all
His pride of light! lift up my sails with
Joy, before the halls of gen'rous Conlath.
My course was by desert isle, where the
Deer irds pursu'd by Cuthona, l saw -r
Her, like that beam of the sun that issues
From the cloud---her heir was on the heaving
Breast---she, bending forward, drew the bow
then
Her white arm seem'd behind her, like the snoy
or Cromla--come to my soul, 1 said, 6tou
Huntress Of the desert isle i---out she wsstes
Her time in tears---she thinks of the gen,rou
Coriath, where can find thy peace, o, ,chere
Cuthona, lovely maid2 3 i1 -tsi-
CuTHosAf
a distant steep bends DER the sea, with ap,d
Trees and mossy rocks---the billow rolls at
Its feet-.-ou its side is the dwelling of
Ross--tbe people call it Mora--there the
Towers Of my love arise--there Conlath
Looks Ger the sea for his only love---the
Daughters Of the chase return'd--he eeheld
Their down-east eyes. "Where is the danght
of ia 49, ,-
Ruraar?''--bui they answered not. Ny pea
dwells f4 +f--
On Mora, the son Of the distant land!
ToscAR. II sel
Cuihona. shall return to her peace. to
The towers Of gen,rous ConIath--he is
The friend Of T'oscar IL have feasted in
His hslAs--rise ye gentle breezes Of Erin.
Stretch my sails towards Morals shnres---jcr .
CuthonA shall rest on, Mora; but The