Report of the Committee of the Highland Society of Scotland, Appointed to Inquire Into the Nature and Authenticity of the Poems of Ossian
Printed at the University Press; for Archibald Constable & Company, Edinburgh, and Longman, Hurst, Rees & Orme, London, 1805 - Literary forgeries and mystifications - 498 pages
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Page 205 - As autumn's dark storms pour from two echoing hills, towards each other approached the heroes. As two dark streams from high rocks meet, and mix and roar on the plain ; loud, rough and dark in battle meet Lochlin and Innisfail.
Page xi - THE HISTORY OF THE ORKNEY ISLANDS: In which is comprehended, An Account of their Present as well as their Ancient State; together with the Advantages they possess for several Branches of Industry, and the means by which they may be improved.
Page 74 - Exult, then, O sun, in the strength of thy youth ! Age is dark and unlovely ; it is like the glimmering light of the moon when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills : the blast of the north is on the plain ; the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.
Page 162 - The flame was dim and distant; the moon hid her red face in the east. A blast came from the mountain : on its wings was the spirit of Loda. He came to his place in his terrors, and shook his dusky spear. His eyes appear like flames in his dark face : his voice is like distant thunder. Fingal advanced his spear in night, and raised his voice on high. ' Son of night, retire : call thy winds, and fly ! Why dost them come to my presence with thy shadowy arms?
Page 189 - He spoke, like a wave on a rock: Who in this land appears like me ? Heroes stand not in my presence; they fall to earth from my hand. Who can meet Swaran in fight ? Who but Fingal, king of Selma of storms? Once we wrestled on Malmor; our heels overturned the woods. Rocks fell from their place; rivulets, changing their course, fled murmuring from our side. Three days we renewed the strife; heroes stood at a distance, and trembled. On the fourth, Fingal says that the king of the ocean fell; but Swaran...
Page 218 - ... desert; so roaring, so vast, so terrible, the armies mixed on Lena's echoing heath. The groan of the people spread over the hills: it was like the thunder of night, when the cloud bursts on Cona, and a thousand ghosts shriek at once on the hollow wind.
Page 208 - Death raises all his voices around, and mixes with the sounds of shields. Each hero is a pillar of darkness; the sword a beam of fire in his hand. The field echoes from wing to wing, as a hundred hammers that rise, by turns, on the red son of the furnace.
Page 84 - Stretch their large spreading limbs below. But when the pride of their strength arose, they shook the hill with their heels. Rocks tumble from their places on high ; the green-headed bushes are overturned.