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eye。 Her hair was flying slowly with the blast that rushed
unfrequent from the hill。 The souls of the heroes were sad when
she raised the tuneful voice。 Oft had they seen the grave of
Salgar； the dark dwelling of white…bosomed Colma。 Colma left alone
on the hill with all her voice of song！ Salgar promised to come！
but the night descended around。 Hear the voice of Colma； when she
sat alone on the hill！
〃Colma。 It is night： I am alone； forlorn on the hill of storms。
The wind is heard on the mountain。 The torrent is howling down
the rock。 No hut receives me from the rain： forlorn on the hill
of winds！
〃Rise moon！ from behind thy clouds。 Stars of the night； arise！
Lead me； some light； to the place where my love rests from the
chase alone！ His bow near him unstrung； his dogs panting around
him！ But here I must sit alone by the rock of the mossy stream。
The stream and the wind roar aloud。 I hear not the voice of my
love！ Why delays my Salgar； why the chief of the hill his promise？
Here is the rock and here the tree！ here is the roaring stream！
Thou didst promise with night to be here。 Ah！ whither is my Salgar
gone？ With thee I would fly from my father； with thee from my
brother of pride。 Our race have long been foes： we are not foes；
O Salgar！
〃Cease a little while； O wind！ stream； be thou silent awhile！ let
my voice be heard around！ let my wanderer hear me！ Salgar！ it is
Colma who calls。 Here is the tree and the rock。 Salgar； my love；
I am here！ Why delayest thou thy coming？ Lo！ the calm moon comes
forth。 The flood is bright in the vale。 The rocks are gray on
the steep。 I see him not on the brow。 His dogs come not before
him with tidings of his near approach。 Here I must sit alone！
〃Who lie on the heath beside me？ Are they my love and my brother？
Speak to me； O my friends！ To Colma they give no reply。 Speak
to me： I am alone！ My soul is tormented with fears。 Ah； they are
dead！ Their swords are red from the fight。 O my brother！ my
brother！ why hast thou slain my Salgar！ Why； O Salgar； hast thou
slain my brother！ Dear were ye both to me！ what shall I say in
your praise？ Thou wert fair on the hill among thousands！ he was
terrible in fight！ Speak to me！ hear my voice！ hear me； sons of
my love！ They are silent！ silent for ever！ Cold； cold； are their
breasts of clay！ Oh； from the rock on the hill； from the top of
the windy steep； speak； ye ghosts of the dead！ Speak； I will not
be afraid！ Whither are ye gone to rest？ In what cave of the hill
shall I find the departed？ No feeble voice is on the gale： no
answer half drowned in the storm！
〃I sit in my grief： I wait for morning in my tears！ Rear the tomb；
ye friends of the dead。 Close it not till Colma come。 My life
flies away like a dream。 Why should I stay behind？ Here shall I
rest with my friends； by the stream of the sounding rock。 When
night comes on the hill when the loud winds arise my ghost shall
stand in the blast； and mourn the death of my friends。 The hunter
shall hear from his booth； he shall fear； but love my voice！ For
sweet shall my voice be for my friends： pleasant were her friends
to Colma。
〃Such was thy song； Minona； softly blushing daughter of Torman。
Our tears descended for Colma； and our souls were sad！ Ullin came
with his harp； he gave the song of Alpin。 The voice of Alpin was
pleasant； the soul of Ryno was a beam of fire！ But they had rested
in the narrow house： their voice had ceased in Selma！ Ullin had
returned one day from the chase before the heroes fell。 He heard
their strife on the hill： their song was soft； but sad！ They
mourned the fall of Morar； first of mortal men！ His soul was like
the soul of Fingal： his sword like the sword of Oscar。 But he
fell； and his father mourned： his sister's eyes were full of tears。
Minona's eyes were full of tears； the sister of car…borne Morar。
She retired from the song of Ullin； like the moon in the west；
when she foresees the shower； and hides her fair head in a cloud。
I touched the harp with Ullin： the song of morning rose！
〃Ryno。 The wind and the rain are past； calm is the noon of day。
The clouds are divided in heaven。 Over the green hills flies the
inconstant sun。 Red through the stony vale comes down the stream
of the hill。 Sweet are thy murmurs； O stream！ but more sweet is
the voice I hear。 It is the voice of Alpin； the son of song；
mourning for the dead！ Bent is his head of age： red his tearful
eye。 Alpin； thou son of song； why alone on the silent hill？ why
complainest thou； as a blast in the wood as a wave on the lonely
shore？
〃Alpin。 My tears； O Ryno！ are for the dead my voice for those
that have passed away。 Tall thou art on the hill； fair among the
sons of the vale。 But thou shalt fall like Morar： the mourner
shall sit on thy tomb。 The hills shall know thee no more： thy bow
shall lie in thy hall unstrung！
〃Thou wert swift； O Morar！ as a roe on the desert： terrible as a
meteor of fire。 Thy wrath was as the storm。 Thy sword in battle
as lightning in the field。 Thy voice was as a stream after rain；
like thunder on distant hills。 Many fell by thy arm： they were
consumed in the flames of thy wrath。 But when thou didst return
from war； how peaceful was thy brow。 Thy face was like the sun
after rain： like the moon in the silence of night： calm as the
breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid。
〃Narrow is thy dwelling now！ dark the place of thine abode！ With
three steps I compass thy grave； O thou who wast so great before！
Four stones； with their heads of moss； are the only memorial of
thee。 A tree with scarce a leaf； long grass which whistles in the
wind； mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar。
Morar！ thou art low indeed。 Thou hast no mother to mourn thee；
no maid with her tears of love。 Dead is she that brought thee
forth。 Fallen is the daughter of Morglan。
〃Who on his staff is this？ Who is this whose head is white with
age； whose eyes are red with tears； who quakes at every step？ It
is thy father； O Morar！ the father of no son but thee。 He heard
of thy fame in war； he heard of foes dispersed。 He heard of Morar's
renown； why did he not hear of his wound？ Weep； thou father of
Morar！ Weep； but thy son heareth thee not。 Deep is the sleep of
the dead； low their pillow of dust。 No more shall he hear thy
voice； no more awake at thy call。 When shall it be morn in the
grave； to bid the slumberer awake？ Farewell； thou bravest of men！
thou conqueror in the field！ but the field shall see thee no more；
nor the dark wood be lightened with the splendour of thy steel。
Thou has left no son。 The song shall preserve thy name。 Future
times shall hear of thee they shall hear of the fallen Morar！
〃The grief of all arose； but most the bursting sigh of Armin。 He
remembers the death of his son； who fell in the days of his youth。
Carmor was near the hero； the chief of the echoing Galmal。 Why
burst the sigh of Armin？ he said。 Is there a cause to mourn？ The
song comes with its music to melt and please the soul。 It is like
soft mist that； rising from a lake； pours on the silent vale；
the green flowers