The Maids of Morven, an Elegiac Ode

WHERE fair-hair'd Oscar's laid to sleep,
A thousand drooping maidens weep;
Their golden tresses now they tear,
And wildly give them to the air;
Hark! now they raise the song of woe,
See how their tears in torrents flow;
And whilst his dirge they plaintive sing,
With echo sad the caverns ring;
See Malvina bends, and weeps
O'er the turf where Oscar sleeps;
Mark that sigh; it was her last:
Now her sorrows all are past.
With Oscar now she treads the sky;
Lo! she wings her flight on high.
Maids of Morven, cease to weep,
For Malvina's hush'd to sleep.
With Oscar now in air she flits:
In Odin's hall with him she sits.
Banish grief, let sorrow cease,
Since their bodies rest in peace.
Cease, lovely Daughters of the Dale,
O'er Malvina cease to wail.