The Poems of Ossian, the Son of Fingal, Volume 1Chapman and Lang, 1799 |
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Page 84
... Lutha ? Was he lovely as the beam of the morning , and stately in thy fight ? " Pleafant is thy fong in Offian's ear , daughter of ftrea- my Lutha ! Thou haft heard the mufic of departed bards in the dream of thy reft , when fleep fell ...
... Lutha ? Was he lovely as the beam of the morning , and stately in thy fight ? " Pleafant is thy fong in Offian's ear , daughter of ftrea- my Lutha ! Thou haft heard the mufic of departed bards in the dream of thy reft , when fleep fell ...
Page 90
... Lutha , fwift ftream . ' Mal - mhina , foft or lovely brow . ' Mh in the Galic language has the fame found with Vin Engli fan in the plain of Lutha : let his tomb BERRATHON :
... Lutha , fwift ftream . ' Mal - mhina , foft or lovely brow . ' Mh in the Galic language has the fame found with Vin Engli fan in the plain of Lutha : let his tomb BERRATHON :
Page 91
fan in the plain of Lutha : let his tomb rife in the lovely field . Malvina ! where art thou with thy fongs : with the foft found of thy fteps ? Sont of Alpin art thou near ? where is the daughter of Tofcar ? " I paffed , O fon of ...
fan in the plain of Lutha : let his tomb rife in the lovely field . Malvina ! where art thou with thy fongs : with the foft found of thy fteps ? Sont of Alpin art thou near ? where is the daughter of Tofcar ? " I paffed , O fon of ...
Page 92
... Lutha . My aged font is fad . I hear the breeze of Cona , that was wont to lift thy heavy locks . It comes to the hall , but thou art not there ; its voice is mournful among the arms of thy fathers . Go with thy ruftling wing , O breeze ...
... Lutha . My aged font is fad . I hear the breeze of Cona , that was wont to lift thy heavy locks . It comes to the hall , but thou art not there ; its voice is mournful among the arms of thy fathers . Go with thy ruftling wing , O breeze ...
Page 93
... Lutha ftood at my fide , as I rofe on the dark blue wave . Our courfe was to fea - furrounded Berrathon † , the ifle of many ftorms . There dwelt , with his locks of age , the ftately strength of Larthmer . Larthmor who spread the feast ...
... Lutha ftood at my fide , as I rofe on the dark blue wave . Our courfe was to fea - furrounded Berrathon † , the ifle of many ftorms . There dwelt , with his locks of age , the ftately strength of Larthmer . Larthmor who spread the feast ...
Common terms and phrases
amidſt arife arms arofe art thou Atha Balclutha bards battle beam behold bend blaft Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carthon Cathmor chief Clono cloud coaft Connal Cormac courfe Crothar Cuchullin Dargo dark darkneſs daughter death defcended defert diftant doft thou Erin eyes faid fame father feaft fecret feen fell fhall fhield fhould fide figh filent Fillan Fingal Firbolg firft flain Foldath fome fong foul fpear fpirit fpread fteel fteps ftone ftood ftorm ftrangers ftream ftrength ftrife fword Gaul ghofts gray hall harp heard heath heroes hill himſelf hoft Inis-huna Ireland king Lego lift Lutha maid midft mift mighty moffy Moi-lena Morni Morven mournful Nathos night Ofcar Offian paffed poem raiſed reft renowned rife roar rock roes rofe rolled ſaid Selma ſhall ſon ſpear Starno Strutha Sul-malla tears Temora thee thofe tomb Trenmor Ullin Uthal vale voice warriors waves weft winds youth
Popular passages
Page 55 - RYNO The wind and the rain are past: calm is the noon of day. The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstant sun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream of the hill. Sweet are thy murmurs, O stream! but more sweet is the voice I hear. It is the voice of Alpin, the son of song, mourning for the dead!
Page 58 - The oar is stopped at once; he panted on the rock and expired. What is thy grief, O Daura, when round thy feet is poured thy brother's blood!
Page 16 - Exult, then, O sun, in the strength of thy youth ! Age is dark and unlovely ; it is like the glimmering light of the moon when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills : the blast of the north is on the plain ; the traveller shrinks in the midst of his journey.
Page 6 - A TALE of the times of old ! The deeds of days of other years ! The murmur of thy streams, O Lora, brings back the memory of the past. The sound of thy woods, Garmallar, is lovely in mine ear. Dost thou not behold, Malvina, a rock with its head of heath ? Three aged pines bend from its face; green is the narrow plain at its feet ; there the flower of the mountain...
Page 92 - I hear the breeze of Cona, that was wont to lift thy heavy locks. It comes to the hall, but thou art not there. Its voice is mournful among the arms of thy fathers ! Go, with thy rustling wing, O breeze ! sigh on Malvina's tomb.
Page 55 - Alpin, thou son of song, why alone on the silent hill ? why complainest thou, as a blast in the wood ? as a wave on the lonely shore ? Alpin.
Page 53 - It is night; I am alone, forlorn on the hill of storms. The wind is heard in the mountain. The torrent pours down the rock. No hut receives me from the rain; forlorn on the hill of winds ! Rise, moon!
Page 55 - 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 181 - I 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 1 TEMORA: AN EPIC POEM.
Page 11 - The tear starts from their mother's eye ; her thoughts are of him who sleeps in Morven." Such were the words of the king when Ullin came to the mighty Carthon. He threw down...