Der Stil des Macphersonschen OssianMayer & Müller, 1904 - 82 pages |
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Page 11
... hear no distant roar of streams , no sound of the harp , from the rocks ! Come , thou huntress of Lutha , roll back his soul to the bard . I look forward to Lochlin of lakes , to the dark , ridgy bay of U - thorno , where Fingal des ...
... hear no distant roar of streams , no sound of the harp , from the rocks ! Come , thou huntress of Lutha , roll back his soul to the bard . I look forward to Lochlin of lakes , to the dark , ridgy bay of U - thorno , where Fingal des ...
Page 31
... hear thy voice III , 83. Bring , daughter of Toscar , bring the harp ! II , 95. Bisweilen setzt er auf- schreckend mit spannender Frage ein : Who comes with her songs from the mountain , like the bow of the showery Lena ? II , 49. Who ...
... hear thy voice III , 83. Bring , daughter of Toscar , bring the harp ! II , 95. Bisweilen setzt er auf- schreckend mit spannender Frage ein : Who comes with her songs from the mountain , like the bow of the showery Lena ? II , 49. Who ...
Page 32
... hear you not , ye sons of song ; in what hall of the clouds is your rest ? Do you touch the shadowy harp , robed with morning mist , where the rustling sun comes forth from his green - headed waves III , 133 . 3. Fast ebenso häufig ...
... hear you not , ye sons of song ; in what hall of the clouds is your rest ? Do you touch the shadowy harp , robed with morning mist , where the rustling sun comes forth from his green - headed waves III , 133 . 3. Fast ebenso häufig ...
Page 34
... hear a voice ? or is it the sound of days that are no more ? Often does the memory of other times come , like the evening sun , on my soul II , 121 . Rhythmik . Über den metrischen Charakter der Originale bemerkt die Vorrede zu I ...
... hear a voice ? or is it the sound of days that are no more ? Often does the memory of other times come , like the evening sun , on my soul II , 121 . Rhythmik . Über den metrischen Charakter der Originale bemerkt die Vorrede zu I ...
Page 39
... hear a voice ? or is it the sound of days that are no more ? II , 121. I heard a voice , like the breeze of my hills . Is it the huntress of Galmal , the white - handed daughter of Sarno ? II , 92. Who fell on Carun's grassy banks , son ...
... hear a voice ? or is it the sound of days that are no more ? II , 121. I heard a voice , like the breeze of my hills . Is it the huntress of Galmal , the white - handed daughter of Sarno ? II , 92. Who fell on Carun's grassy banks , son ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adjektiv Allegorie Alliteration amidst Apposition Ballade bards battle beam Beiwörtern bending blast blue breeze bright Cairbar chief clouds Comala comes Cona Connal Cuchullin curling dark dark rider dark-brown daughter dauntless death deeds deep desart Dichter distant dweller ecchoing eyes fair feeble fell field fierce Fingal friend gälischen Genitiv ghosts Gleichnisse gloomy Grainne grass gray green grove hair head hear heath heaven heavy helmet heroes hill historische Präsens king klassizistischen läßt light Lismore Lismorebuch look love lovely maid manly meteor mighty mist moon Morna Morven mossy mournful night noble ocean Oscar Ossian pale poetische Rede roar roaring rock rolling round rushed rustling Sätze schmückenden shells shield side silent snow soft song soul sound sounding spear spirit stark stars steel Stil stilistischen stood storm stream sun-beam sweet sword tall terrible thee thou thousand times of old vale Vergleichung voice Volksballade waves white wind windy woods
Popular passages
Page 66 - When through the clouds he drives the trembling doves ; As from the god she flew with furious pace, Or as the god, more furious...
Page 8 - Fingal, an Ancient Epic Poem in Six Books: Together with Several Other Poems, Composed by Ossian, the Son of Fingal. Translated from the Galic Language, by James Macpherson.
Page 24 - 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 10 - DAUGHTER of heaven, fair art thou ! the silence of thy face is pleasant ! Thou comest forth in loveliness. The stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O moon! they brighten their dark-brown sides.
Page 18 - Tho' gods assembled grace his tow'ring height, Than what more humble mountains offer here, Where, in their blessings, all those gods appear. See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd ; Here blushing Flora paints th...
Page 28 - The Celts, with their vehement reaction against the despotism of fact, with their sensuous nature, their manifold striving, their adverse destiny, their immense calamities, the Celts are the prime authors of this vein of piercing regret and passion, — of this Titanism in poetry. A famous book, Macpherson's Ossian, carried in the last century this vein like a flood of lava through Europe.
Page 10 - A dark red stream of fire comes down from the hill. Crugal sat upon the beam : he that lately fell by the hand of Swaran striving in the battle of heroes. His face is like the beam of the setting moon : his robes are of the clouds of the hill : his eyes are like two decaying flames. Dark is the wound on his breast. The stars dim-twinkled through his form ; and his voice was like the sound of a distant stream.
Page 22 - The Celt's quick feeling for what is noble and distinguished gave his poetry style ; his indomitable personality gave it pride and passion; his sensibility and nervous exaltation gave it a better gift still, the gift of rendering with wonderful felicity the magical charm of nature.
Page 10 - Swaran, striving in the battle of heroes. His face is like the beam of the setting moon. His robes are of the clouds of the hill. His eyes are two decaying flames. Dark is the wound of his breast! ,, Crugal...
Page 62 - As a hundred winds on Morven ; as the streams of a hundred hills ; as clouds fly successive over heaven ; as the dark ocean assails the shore of the desert : so roaring, so vast, so terrible the armies mixed on Lena's echoing heath.