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From whence shall I return with renown, that the sound of my arms may be
pleasant in his ear ? If I go to the chace of hinds, my name will not be heard.
Lamor will not feel my dogs, with his hands, glad at my arrival from the hill. He will
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. Happy
art thou, O Oscar, in the midst of thy rushing blast. Thou often goest to the ...
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
Son of my son, regard our fame ; thou art of the race of renown ! Let not the
children of strangers say, feeble are the sons of Morven ! Be thou, in battle, a
roaring storm : mild as the evening sun in peace ! Tell, Oscar, to Inis- thona's king,
He heard of Morar's renown ; why did he not hear of his wound ? Weep, thou
father of Morar ! weep ; but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the
dead ; low their pillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice ; no more awake
at thy ...
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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