POESIE ERSE

CHANT DES BARDES ; First Baid.

Night is dull and dark ; ihe clouds rest od ibe bills ; no star wilh {^reen Irembliiijj beam : no raoon looks froiu ihe sky. I liear the blasl in the wood ; but 1 heai il distant far. The Sircam of ihe valley murniurs, bul ils nimmur is sullen and sad. Froni (lie li'ee al the grave of the (K-;id, llu' longhowling owl is heard. I see a dim form on ihe plain ! Il is a ghosl ! Il fades, il Aies. Sorae funeral sliall pass this \say The meleoi" marks llie path.

The distant dog is howling from the but of ihe hill ; the stag lies on the mounlain nioss : ihe hiud is al his side. She hears the wind in his branchy horns. She starts. but lies again.

The roe is in ihe clift of ihe rock. The heathcock's head is beneath his wing. No beast, no bird is abroad, but ihe ovvl and ihe howliug fox. She on a leatless Iree, he in a cloud on thebill.

Dark, paiiling, Irembliug, sad, the traveller bas lost bis way. Through shrubs, ibroinjh iborns, be goes, along the gurgling rill; be fears ihe rocks and the fen. He fears tîie gbost of nigbt. The old tree groaus lo the blasl. The falling branch resounds. The wind diives ihe wilhered burs, clung logelher, along the grass. It is the hght tread of agljost! he trembles amidst the niglit.

Dark, dusky, howbng is nigbt, cloudy, windy and full of ghosts ! the dead are abroad ! my friends, receive me frora the nigbt. ( Ossian. )

NOTEE, page 137.