The poems of Ossian, tr. by J. Macpherson. Blair's critical dissertations, Volume 21806 |
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Page 24
... steps in the heath . I am light as the blast of Cromla . I move like the * The scene here described will appear natural to those who have been in the highlands of Scotland . The poet removes him to a distance from the army , to add more ...
... steps in the heath . I am light as the blast of Cromla . I move like the * The scene here described will appear natural to those who have been in the highlands of Scotland . The poet removes him to a distance from the army , to add more ...
Page 38
... steps in the heath ; the foe of unhappy Comal ! " One day , tired of the chace , when the mist had concealed their friends , Comal and the daughter of Conloch met , in the cave of Ronan . It was the wonted haunt of Comal . Its sides ...
... steps in the heath ; the foe of unhappy Comal ! " One day , tired of the chace , when the mist had concealed their friends , Comal and the daughter of Conloch met , in the cave of Ronan . It was the wonted haunt of Comal . Its sides ...
Page 39
... steps round the dark dwelling of his love . The fleet of the ocean came . He fought , the strangers fled . He searched for death along the field . But who could slay the mighty Comal ! He threw away his dark- brown shield . An arrow ...
... steps round the dark dwelling of his love . The fleet of the ocean came . He fought , the strangers fled . He searched for death along the field . But who could slay the mighty Comal ! He threw away his dark- brown shield . An arrow ...
Page 44
... steps . His kindled soul flew to the maid , as he bounded on the waves of the north . 66 Welcome , " said the dark - brown * Starno was the father of Swaran as well as Agandecca . His fierce and cruel character is well marked in other ...
... steps . His kindled soul flew to the maid , as he bounded on the waves of the north . 66 Welcome , " said the dark - brown * Starno was the father of Swaran as well as Agandecca . His fierce and cruel character is well marked in other ...
Page 45
... steps were the music of songs . She saw the youth and loved him . He was the stolen sigh of her soul . Her blue eye rolled on him in secret : she blest the chief of resounding Morven . The third day with all its beams , shone bright on ...
... steps were the music of songs . She saw the youth and loved him . He was the stolen sigh of her soul . Her blue eye rolled on him in secret : she blest the chief of resounding Morven . The third day with all its beams , shone bright on ...
Common terms and phrases
arms art thou Atha bards battle beam behold bend blast blood blue blue streams Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Cathmor cave chace chief Clono cloud Cona Connal Cormac Cromla Cuthullin Dar-thula dark dark-brown darkened daugh daughter death dost thou echoing Erin Erin's eyes fame fathers feast feeble fell field fight Fillan Fingal Firbolg Foldath friends Gaul ghosts gleaming grey grief hair hall harp hear heard heath heroes hill king of Ireland king of Morven Lathmon Lego Lena lift light Lochlin Lubar maid Malthos midst mighty mist Moi-lena Mora Morni mournful Nathos night Oscar Ossian poem renown rise roar rock roes rolled rose rush Ryno Selma Semo shield side sigh silent song sons soul sound spear steel steps storm stream Strutha Sul-malla Swaran sword tears Temora thee thine Thou art tomb Torman Trenmor Ullin Usnoth Uthal vale voice warriors waves wind youth
Popular passages
Page 56 - O Oscar ! bend the strong in arm : but spare the feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides against the foes of thy people ; but like the gale that moves the grass, to those who ask thine aid. So Trenmor lived ; such Trathal was ; and such has Fingal been. My arm was the support of the injured ; the weak rested behind the lightning of my steel.
Page 9 - Cromla echoes round. On Lena's dusky heath they stand, like mist that shades the hills of autumn; when broken and dark it settles high, and lifts its head to heaven. "Hail!
Page 15 - < to the souls of the heroes ! their deeds were great in fight. Let them ride around ine on clouds. Let them show their features of war. My soul shall then be firm in danger ; mine arm like the thunder of heaven! But be thou on a moonbeam, O Morna ! near the window of my rest ; when my thoughts are of peace ; when the din of arms is past.
Page 167 - The blue waves of Ullin roll in light. The green hills are covered with day. Trees shake their dusky heads in the breeze. Grey torrents pour their noisy streams. Two green hills with aged oaks surround a narrow plain. The blue course of a stream is there. On its banks stood Cairbar of Atha. His spear supports the king; the red eyes of his fear are sad. Cormac rises on his soul with all his ghastly wounds.
Page 318 - I passed, O son of Fingal, by Tor-lutha's mossy walls. The smoke of the hall was ceased. Silence was among the trees of the hill. The voice of the chase was over. I saw the daughters of the bow. I asked about Malvina, but they answered not. They turned their faces away: thin darkness covered their beauty. They were like stars, on a rainy hill, by night, each looking faintly through her mist.
Page 17 - When fled Swaran from the battle of spears? When did I shrink from danger, chief of the little soul? I met the storm of Gormal, when the foam of my waves beat high. I met the storm of the clouds; shall Swaran fly from a hero? Were Fingal himself before me, my soul should not darken with fear. Arise to battle, my thousands! pour round me like the echoing main. Gather round the bright steel of your king; strong as the rocks of my land; that meet the storm with joy, and stretch their dark pines to the...
Page 287 - Son of Alpin, strike the string. Is there aught of joy in the harp? Pour it then on the soul of Ossian: It is folded in mist. I hear thee, O bard ! in my night. But cease the lightly-trembling sound.
Page 276 - Lara's stream, is poured the vapour dark and deep : the moon, like a dim shield, is swimming through its folds. With this clothe the spirits of old their sudden gestures on the wind, when they stride, from blast to blast, along the dusky night. Often, blended with the gale, to some warrior's grave,* they roll the mist, a grey dwelling to his ghost, until the songs arise.