The Poems of Ossian: To which are Prefixed a Preliminary Discourse and Dissertation on the Æra and Poems of Ossian

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Phillips, Sampson, 1851 - Celts - 492 pages
Epic poems are free translations by Macpherson from Ossian, the legendary Gaelic narrator and author.

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Page 171 - Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas 1 For neither were ye playing on the steep Where your old bards, the famous Druids, he ! Nor on the shaggy top of Mona, high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard
Page 126 - all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face : the hair of my flesh stood up It stood still : but 1 could not discern the form thereof.
Page 233 - hear a feeble voice ! The beam of heaven delights to shine on the grave of Carthon : I feel it warm around. O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers ! Whence are thy beams, O sun ! thy everlasting light! Thou
Page 145 - the description of the young prince Cormac, in the same book ; and the ruins of Balclutha, in Cartho. " I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls: and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream
Page 225 - O bards, over the land of strangers. They have but fallen before us : for one day we must fall. Why dost thou build the hall, son of the winged days ? Thou lookest from thy towers to-day: yet a few years, and the blast of the
Page 285 - liftest thy unshorn head from thy cloud: thy steps are stately on thy hill. What dost thou behold in the plain? The stormy winds are laid. The murmur of the torrent comes from afar. Roaring waves climb the distant rock. The flies of evening are on their feeble wings: the hum of their course is
Page 287 - on the hill among thousands! he was terrible in fight. Speak to me ; hear my voice ; hear me, sons of my love! They are silent; silent for ever ! Cold, cold, are their breasts of clay ! Oh ! from the rock on the hill, from the top of the windy steep, speak, ye ghosts of the dead
Page 285 - the field. What dost thou behold, fair light ? But thou dost smile and depart. The waves come with joy around thee: they bathe thy lovely hair. Farewell, thou silent beam ! Let the light of Ossian's soul arise! And it does arise in its strength ! I behold my departed friends. Their gathering is on Lora, as in
Page 166 - spread out into little episodes. In the following example may be perceived what inexpressible grandeur poetry receives from the intervention of the Deity. " The nations shall rush like the rushing of many waters ; but God shall rebuke them, and they shall
Page 223 - The mighty lie, O Malvina ! in the narrow plain of the rock. A tale of the times of old! The deeds of days of other years ! Who comes from the land of strangers, with his thousands around him ? The sunbeam pours its bright stream before him ; his hair meets the wind of his

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