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Page 353 - O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ! Whence are thy beams, O sun ! thy everlasting light ! Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; the stars hide themselves in the sky ; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave ; but thou thyself movest aloive.
Page 202 - On a rock, whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood, Robed in the sable garb of woe, With haggard eyes the poet stood ; (Loose his beard and hoary hair, Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air,) And with a master's hand and prophet's fire Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre...
Page 353 - ... in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest in vain, for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art perhaps like me for a season; thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds, careless of the voice of the morning.
Page 346 - Night came down on the sea; Rotha's bay received the ship. A rock bends along the coast with all its echoing wood. On the top is the circle of Loda, the mossy stone of power!
Page 347 - Thou frownest in vain : I never fled from the mighty in war. And shall the sons of the wind frighten the king of Morven ? No ! he knows the weakness of their arms ! Fly to thy land...
Page 352 - HAST* thou left thy blue course in heaven, golden-haired son of the sky ! The west has opened its gates ; the bed of thy repose is there. The waves come to behold thy beauty. They lift their trembling heads. They see thee lovely in thy sleep ; they shrink away with fear. Rest, in thy shadowy cave, O sun ! let thy return be in joy.
Page 17 - By these were the isles of the Gentiles divided in their lands; every one after his tongue, after their families, in their nations.
Page 166 - Thrice happy they beneath their northern skies, Who that worst fear — the fear of death — despise Hence they no cares for this frail being feel, But rush undaunted on the pointed steel ; Provoke approaching fate, and bravely scorn To spare that life which must so soon return.
Page 353 - When the world is dark with tempests : when thunder rolls, and lightning flies ; thou lookest in thy beauty, from the • clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian, thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams no more ; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at'the gates of the west.