you speak in pity? They do not regard their father. I am sad, O Carmor, nor small is my cause of woe!
SUCH were the words of the bards in the days of song; when the king heard the music of harps, the tale of other times! The chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely sound. They praised the voice of Cona! the first among a thousand bards! But age is now on my tongue; my soul has failed! I hear, at times, the ghosts of bards, and learn their pleasant song. But memory fails on my mind. I hear the call of years! They say, as they pass along, why does Ossian sing? Soon shall he lie in the narrow house, and no bard shall raise his fame! Roll on, ye dark- brown years; ye bring no joy on your course! Let the tomb open to Ossian, for his strength has failed. The sons of song are gone to rest. My voice remains, like a blast, that roars, lonely, on a sea-surrounded rock, after the winds are laid. The dark moss whistles there; the distant mariner sees the waving trees!
____________________A Prayer, Living and Dying1
ROCK of ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee!
Let the Water and the Blood,
From thy riven Side which flow'd,
Be of sin the double cure; 5 Cleanse me from it's guilt and pow'r.
Not the labors of my hands
Can fulfill thy Law's demands:
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow, 10 All for sin could not atone:
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring;
Simply to thy Cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress; 15 Helpless, look to Thee for grace;