The Poems of Ossian, the Son of Fingal, Volume 1Chapman and Lang, 1799 |
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Page 6
... meets the wind of his hills . His face is fettled from war . He is calm as the evening beam , that looks from the cloud of the weft , on Cona's filent vale . Who is it but Comhal's fon , the king of mighty deeds ! He beholds his hills ...
... meets the wind of his hills . His face is fettled from war . He is calm as the evening beam , that looks from the cloud of the weft , on Cona's filent vale . Who is it but Comhal's fon , the king of mighty deeds ! He beholds his hills ...
Page 12
... meet , at once , the king : Shall I ftop him , in the midft of his courfe , before his fame fhall arife ? But the bard , hereafter , may fay , when he fees the tomb of Carthon ; Fingal took his thoufands , along with him , to battle ...
... meet , at once , the king : Shall I ftop him , in the midft of his courfe , before his fame fhall arife ? But the bard , hereafter , may fay , when he fees the tomb of Carthon ; Fingal took his thoufands , along with him , to battle ...
Page 13
... meet the arm of youth ? Is the fpoufe of thy love no more ? or weeps the over the tombs of thy fons ? Art thou of the kings of men ? What will be the fame of my fword if thou shalt fall ? " " It will be great , thou son of pride ...
... meet the arm of youth ? Is the fpoufe of thy love no more ? or weeps the over the tombs of thy fons ? Art thou of the kings of men ? What will be the fame of my fword if thou shalt fall ? " " It will be great , thou son of pride ...
Page 20
... meet him , in thine arms , king of the ifle of mift ? Ter- rible is the fpear of Torlath ! it is a meteor of night . He lifts it , and the people fall : death fits in the light- ning of his fword . " " Do I fear , " replied Cuchullin ...
... meet him , in thine arms , king of the ifle of mift ? Ter- rible is the fpear of Torlath ! it is a meteor of night . He lifts it , and the people fall : death fits in the light- ning of his fword . " " Do I fear , " replied Cuchullin ...
Page 30
... meet his pride , and revenge his fon . But where fhall I find thy fafety , Dar - thula with the dark - brown hair ? thou art lovely as the fun beam of heaven , and thy friends are low ! " And is the fun of battle fallen ? " I faid with ...
... meet his pride , and revenge his fon . But where fhall I find thy fafety , Dar - thula with the dark - brown hair ? thou art lovely as the fun beam of heaven , and thy friends are low ! " And is the fun of battle fallen ? " I faid with ...
Common terms and phrases
amidſt arife arms arofe art thou Atha Balclutha bards battle beam behold bend blaft Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carthon Cathmor chief Clono cloud coaft Connal Cormac courfe Crothar Cuchullin Dargo dark darkneſs daughter death defcended defert diftant doft thou Erin eyes faid fame father feaft fecret feen fell fhall fhield fhould fide figh filent Fillan Fingal Firbolg firft flain Foldath fome fong foul fpear fpirit fpread fteel fteps ftone ftood ftorm ftrangers ftream ftrength ftrife fword Gaul ghofts gray hall harp heard heath heroes hill himſelf hoft Inis-huna Ireland king Lego lift Lutha maid midft mift mighty moffy Moi-lena Morni Morven mournful Nathos night Ofcar Offian paffed poem raiſed reft renowned rife roar rock roes rofe rolled ſaid Selma ſhall ſon ſpear Starno Strutha Sul-malla tears Temora thee thofe tomb Trenmor Ullin Uthal vale voice warriors waves weft winds youth
Popular passages
Page 55 - 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!
Page 58 - The oar is stopped at once; he panted on the rock and expired. What is thy grief, O Daura, when round thy feet is poured thy brother's blood!
Page 16 - 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 6 - A TALE of the times of old ! The deeds of days of other years ! The murmur of thy streams, O Lora, brings back the memory of the past. The sound of thy woods, Garmallar, is lovely in mine ear. Dost thou not behold, Malvina, a rock with its head of heath ? Three aged pines bend from its face; green is the narrow plain at its feet ; there the flower of the mountain...
Page 92 - I hear the breeze of Cona, that was wont to lift thy heavy locks. It comes to the hall, but thou art not there. Its voice is mournful among the arms of thy fathers ! Go, with thy rustling wing, O breeze ! sigh on Malvina's tomb.
Page 55 - 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.
Page 53 - It is night; I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard in the mountain. The torrent pours down the rock. No hut receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds ! Rise, moon!
Page 55 - 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.
Page 181 - I hear you not, ye sons of song; in what hall of the clouds is your rest? Do you touch the shadowy harp, robed with morning mist, where the rustling sun comes forth from his green-headed waves 1 TEMORA: AN EPIC POEM.
Page 11 - The tear starts from their mother's eye ; her thoughts are of him who sleeps in Morven." Such were the words of the king when Ullin came to the mighty Carthon. He threw down...