 | Poems on several occasions |  |
61
IMITATION FROM OSSIAN's POEMS,
LATELY PUBLISHED By the Title of FINGAL, &c.
Brown Autumn nods upon the mountain's head,
The dark mist gathers; howling winds assail
The blighted desart; on its mineral bed
Dark rolls the river through the sullen vale.
On the hill's dejected scene
The blasted ash alone is seen,
That marks the grave where Connal sleeps;
Gather'd into mould'ring heaps
From the whirlwind's giddy round,
Its leaves bestrew the hallow'd ground.
Across the musing hunter's lonesome way
Flit melancholy ghosts, that chill the dawn of day.
The dark mist gathers; howling winds assail
The blighted desart; on its mineral bed
Dark rolls the river through the sullen vale.
On the hill's dejected scene
The blasted ash alone is seen,
That marks the grave where Connal sleeps;
Gather'd into mould'ring heaps
62
Its leaves bestrew the hallow'd ground.
Across the musing hunter's lonesome way
Flit melancholy ghosts, that chill the dawn of day.
Connal, thou slumber'st there, the great, the good!
Thy long-fam'd Ancestors what tongue can trace?
Firm, as the oak on rocky heights, they stood;
Planted as firm on Glory's ample base.
Rooted in their native clime,
Brav'd alike devouring time,
Full of honours, full of age,
That lofty oak the winter's rage
Rent from the promontory's brow,
And Death has laid the mighty low.
The mountains mourn their consecrated tree;
His country Connal mourns;—what son shall rival thee?
Thy long-fam'd Ancestors what tongue can trace?
Firm, as the oak on rocky heights, they stood;
Planted as firm on Glory's ample base.
Rooted in their native clime,
Brav'd alike devouring time,
Full of honours, full of age,
That lofty oak the winter's rage
Rent from the promontory's brow,
And Death has laid the mighty low.
The mountains mourn their consecrated tree;
His country Connal mourns;—what son shall rival thee?
63
Here was the din of arms, and here o'erthrown
The valiant!—mournful are thy wars, Fingal;
The caverns echo'd to the dying groan,
The fatal fields beheld the victor fall;
Tall amidst the host, as hills
Above their vales and subject rills,
His arm, a tempest lowring high,
His sword, a beam of summer's sky,
His eyes, a fiery furnace, glare,
His voice that shook th'astonish'd war,
Was thunder's sound: He smote the trembling foes,
As sportive infant's staff the bearded thistle mows.
The valiant!—mournful are thy wars, Fingal;
The caverns echo'd to the dying groan,
The fatal fields beheld the victor fall;
Tall amidst the host, as hills
Above their vales and subject rills,
His arm, a tempest lowring high,
His sword, a beam of summer's sky,
His eyes, a fiery furnace, glare,
His voice that shook th'astonish'd war,
Was thunder's sound: He smote the trembling foes,
As sportive infant's staff the bearded thistle mows.
Onward to meet this Hero, like a storm,
A cloudy storm, the mighty Dargo came;
As mountain caves, where dusky meteors form
His hollow eye-balls flash'd a livid flame.
And now they join'd, and now they wield
Their clashing steel—resounds the field,
Crimora heard the loud alarms,
Rinval's daughter, bright in arms,
Her hands the bow victorious bear,
Luxuriant wav'd her auburn hair;
Connal, her life, her love, in beauty's pride,
She follow'd to the war, and fought by Connal's side.
A cloudy storm, the mighty Dargo came;
As mountain caves, where dusky meteors form
His hollow eye-balls flash'd a livid flame.
64
Their clashing steel—resounds the field,
Crimora heard the loud alarms,
Rinval's daughter, bright in arms,
Her hands the bow victorious bear,
Luxuriant wav'd her auburn hair;
Connal, her life, her love, in beauty's pride,
She follow'd to the war, and fought by Connal's side.
In wild despair, at Connal's foe she drew
The fatal string, impatient flew the dart;
Ah hapless maid!—with erring course it flew;
The shaft stood trembling in her lover's heart.
He fell—so falls by thunder's shock
From ocean's cliffs the rifted rock.
That falls and plows the groaning strand—
He fell by Love's unwilling hand.
Hapless maid! from eve to day,
Connal, my love; the breathless clay
My love, she calls—now rolls her frantic eyes—
—Now bends them sad to earth—she sinks, she faints, she dies.—
The fatal string, impatient flew the dart;
Ah hapless maid!—with erring course it flew;
The shaft stood trembling in her lover's heart.
He fell—so falls by thunder's shock
From ocean's cliffs the rifted rock.
That falls and plows the groaning strand—
He fell by Love's unwilling hand.
65
Connal, my love; the breathless clay
My love, she calls—now rolls her frantic eyes—
—Now bends them sad to earth—she sinks, she faints, she dies.—
Together rest in Earth's parental womb,
Her fairest offspring; mournful in the vale
I sit, while, issuing from the moss-grown tomb,
Your once-lov'd voices seem to swell the gale.—
Pensive Memory wakes her powers,
Oft recals your smiling hours
Of fleeting life, that wont to move
On downy wings of youth and love;
The smiling hours no more return;
—All is hush'd—your silent urn
The mountain covers with its awful shade,
Far from the haunts of men in pathless desart laid.
Her fairest offspring; mournful in the vale
I sit, while, issuing from the moss-grown tomb,
Your once-lov'd voices seem to swell the gale.—
Pensive Memory wakes her powers,
Oft recals your smiling hours
Of fleeting life, that wont to move
On downy wings of youth and love;
The smiling hours no more return;
—All is hush'd—your silent urn
The mountain covers with its awful shade,
Far from the haunts of men in pathless desart laid.
| Poems on several occasions | |