The Poems of Ossian, Volume 1W. Strahan and T. Becket, 1773 - Poetry |
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Page 54
... shells is fpread . Fingal turns to his bards , and bids the fong to rife . VOICES of ecchoing Cona ! he faid , O bards of other times ! Ye , on whose fouls the blue hofts of our fathers rife ! ftrike the harp in my hall ; and let me ...
... shells is fpread . Fingal turns to his bards , and bids the fong to rife . VOICES of ecchoing Cona ! he faid , O bards of other times ! Ye , on whose fouls the blue hofts of our fathers rife ! ftrike the harp in my hall ; and let me ...
Page 68
... shells is fpread . The foft found of mufic arofe . Gladnefs brightened in the hall . The voice of Ullin was heard ; the harp of Selma was ftrung . Utha rejoiced in his prefence , and demanded the fong of grief ; the big tear hung in her ...
... shells is fpread . The foft found of mufic arofe . Gladnefs brightened in the hall . The voice of Ullin was heard ; the harp of Selma was ftrung . Utha rejoiced in his prefence , and demanded the fong of grief ; the big tear hung in her ...
Page 80
... shell went round , and the aged hero gave the fair . Her breafts were like foam on the wave , and her eyes like ftars of light : her hair was dark as the raven's wing : her foul was generous and mild . My love for Mcina was great : my ...
... shell went round , and the aged hero gave the fair . Her breafts were like foam on the wave , and her eyes like ftars of light : her hair was dark as the raven's wing : her foul was generous and mild . My love for Mcina was great : my ...
Page 82
... for his wisdom in making laws , his poetical genius , and his foreknowledge of events . O'Flaherty goes fo far as to fay , that Fingal's laws were extant in his own time . the the fong ; fend round the shell : let joy 82 CARTHON :
... for his wisdom in making laws , his poetical genius , and his foreknowledge of events . O'Flaherty goes fo far as to fay , that Fingal's laws were extant in his own time . the the fong ; fend round the shell : let joy 82 CARTHON :
Page 83
the fong ; fend round the shell : let joy be heard my hall . When thou , fun of heaven , fhalt fail ! if thou shalt fail , thou mighty light ! if in thy brightness is for a feafon , like Fingal ; our fame shall survive thy beams ! SUCH ...
the fong ; fend round the shell : let joy be heard my hall . When thou , fun of heaven , fhalt fail ! if thou shalt fail , thou mighty light ! if in thy brightness is for a feafon , like Fingal ; our fame shall survive thy beams ! SUCH ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt arife arms arofe art thou Balclutha bards battle beam behold blaft bofom breaft Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Carthon cave chace chief clouds Clutha Comala Connal Cromla Cuthullin Dargo dark dark-brown darkneſs daugh daughter death defart defcended diftant doft thou ecchoing Erin eyes faid fame fathers feaft fecret feeble feen fell fhall fhells fhield fide figh fight filent Fingal flain fled fome fong foul fpear fpirits fpread friends fteel fteps ftone ftood ftorm ftrangers ftream ftrength fword Gaul ghofts grief hair hall harp heard heath heroes hill himſelf king of Morven Lego lift Lochlin maid mift mighty moffy Morni mournful Nathos night Ofcar Offian paffed poem raiſed reft renown rife roar rock rofe rolled ruſhed ſaid Scandinavia Selma Semo ſhall Starno Swaran tears thee thoſe thouſand tomb Torman Trenmor Ullin vale voice warriors waves weft wind youth
Popular passages
Page 370 - ... of my fathers ! bend. Lay by the red terror of your course. Receive the falling chief; whether he comes from a distant land, or rises from the rolling sea. Let his robe of mist be near ; his spear that is form'd of a cloud.
Page 213 - Arise, winds of autumn, arise; blow along the heath! streams of the mountains roar! roar, tempests, in the groves of my oaks! walk through broken clouds, O moon! show thy pale face, at intervals! bring to my mind the night, when all my children fell; when Arindal the mighty fell; when Daura the lovely failed!
Page 211 - A tree with scarce a leaf, long grass which whistles in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar! thou art low indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee; no maid with her tears of love. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan. Who on his staff is this? who is this, whose head is white with age?
Page 228 - Lovely daughter of Cormac, I love thee as my soul ! I have slain one stately deer for thee. High was his branchy head, and fleet his feet of wind.
Page 136 - Night is alike to me, stormy or gloomy the sky. Night flies before the beam, when it is poured on the hill. The young day returns from his clouds, but we return no more. Where are our chiefs of old? Where our kings of mighty name ? The fields of their battles are silent. Scarce their mossy tombs remain. We shall also be forgot. This lofty house shall fall. Our sons shall not behold the ruins in grass. They shall ask of the aged, " Where stood the walls of our fathers ?" Raise the song, and strike...
Page 223 - They come like streams from the mountain ; each rushes roaring from his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle, in the armour of their fathers. Gloomy and dark, their heroes follow like the gathering of the rainy clouds behind the red meteors of heaven.
Page 205 - And it does arise in its strength! I behold my departed friends. Their gathering is on Lora, as in the days of other years.
Page 232 - Within the car is seen the chief; the strong-armed son of the sword. The hero's name is Cuthullin, son of Semo king of shells. His red cheek is like my polished yew. The look of his blue-rolling eye is wide, beneath the dark arch of his brow. His hair flies from his head like a flame, as bending forward he wields the spear. Fly, king of ocean, fly ! He comes, like a storm, along the streamy vale ! " When did I fly," replied the king ? " When fled Swaran from the battle of spears?
Page 211 - 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 58 - Returnest thou safe from the war? Where are thy friends, my love? I heard of thy death on the hill; I heard and mourned thee, Shilric!