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I remember the days of my youth with grief ; when I feel the weakness of my arm.
Happy are they who fell in their youth, in the midst of their renown ! They have not
beheld the tombs of their friend : or failed to bend the bow of their strength.
They are laid in the field of ghosts. Renown returns to Morven, like a rising wind.
Why art thou dark, chief of Clutha ? Is there cause for grief?" " Son of Ossian of
harps, my soul is darkly sad. I behold the arms of Cathmol, which he raised in war
Her tomb is at rushy Lumon, in a distant land. Near it were the steps of Sul-malla,
in the days of grief. She raised the song, for the daughter of strangers, and
touched the mournful harp. Come, from the watching of night, Malvina, lonely
His heart swelled with the grief of pride ; he resolved, in secret, to behold the
death of my sons. They went to the hills of Runa : they pursued the dark-brown
hinds. The arrow of Cormalo flew in secret; my children fell in blood. He came to
I sit in my grief ! I wait for morning in my tears ! Rear the tomb, ye friends of the
dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream : why should I
stay behind ? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock.
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - hbergander - LibraryThing
The authenticity of Macpherson’s collection was already controversially judged, when it came, translated in several European languages, to the continent. The author was said having written the poems ... Read full review