The poems of Ossian &c. containing the Poetical Works of James Macpherson, Esq. in prose and rhyme: with notes and illustrations by Malcolm Laing. In two volumes |
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| III. | FRAGMENT III. |
 | The poems of Ossian |  |
FRAGMENT III.
How graceful lies the brave man on the plain,
Covered with wounds, and for his country slain!
But ah! expelled from home, how mean! how low!
Through foreign realms to lead a life of woe!
Strolling with parents sunk in wieldless years,
A helpless wife, and infants drowned in tears!
Condemned to want and shame, him all shall hate,
And drive the wand'rer from the closing gate.
His form he shall disgrace, his race, his blood,
By ills unnamed and infamy pursued.
Nor only is the dastard lost to fame,
But, what is worse, to all the sense of shame.
Covered with wounds, and for his country slain!
But ah! expelled from home, how mean! how low!
Through foreign realms to lead a life of woe!
Strolling with parents sunk in wieldless years,
A helpless wife, and infants drowned in tears!
Condemned to want and shame, him all shall hate,
And drive the wand'rer from the closing gate.
His form he shall disgrace, his race, his blood,
By ills unnamed and infamy pursued.
Nor only is the dastard lost to fame,
But, what is worse, to all the sense of shame.
But let us fight for Sparta while we may,
Nor spare a life which soon must pass away.
Collect your bands, ye warriors, closely fight;
Forget your fear; forget inglorious flight.
Let glory every martial bosom fill,
Nor value life when foes remain to kill.
Leave not the hoary vet'rans numbed with age,
Where burns the combat, and the thickest rage:
What shame! an aged warrior prone should lie,
Transfixed with wounds, when younger men are by;
His beard transformed, his wrinkled temples gray,
And breathe, in dust, his dauntless soul away?
Who can his hands behold, with shameless eyes,
Cov'ring his naked carcase as he lies,
Decent in death?—But all things youth become,
Whom nature covers with her fairest bloom;
Graceful, in life, to men and women's eyes;
Graceful, in death, when on the field he lies.
Then, once engaged, let every warrior grow
Firm to the earth, and low'r upon the foe.
Nor spare a life which soon must pass away.
620
Forget your fear; forget inglorious flight.
Let glory every martial bosom fill,
Nor value life when foes remain to kill.
Leave not the hoary vet'rans numbed with age,
Where burns the combat, and the thickest rage:
What shame! an aged warrior prone should lie,
Transfixed with wounds, when younger men are by;
His beard transformed, his wrinkled temples gray,
And breathe, in dust, his dauntless soul away?
Who can his hands behold, with shameless eyes,
Cov'ring his naked carcase as he lies,
Decent in death?—But all things youth become,
Whom nature covers with her fairest bloom;
Graceful, in life, to men and women's eyes;
Graceful, in death, when on the field he lies.
Then, once engaged, let every warrior grow
Firm to the earth, and low'r upon the foe.
| The poems of Ossian | |