The Poems of Ossian, Volume 1

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William Miller, 1812 - Scottish Gaelic poetry
 

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Page 155 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my flesh stood up: It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Page 228 - And they brought up an evil report of the land which they had searched unto the children of Israel, saying, the land, through which we have gone to search it, is a land that eateth up the inhabitants thereof; and all the people that we saw in it, are men of a great stature : and there we saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants ; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight.
Page 187 - The flower hangs its heavy head, waving, at times, to the gale. Why dost thou awake me, O gale, it seems to say, I am covered with the drops of heaven? The time of my fading is near, and the blast that shall scatter my leaves. Tomorrow shall the traveller come, he that saw me in my beauty shall come; his eyes will search the field, but they will not find me?
Page 159 - Colma come. My life flies away like a dream: why should I stay behind? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock. When night comes on the hill; when the loud winds arise; my ghost shall stand in the blast, and mourn the death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth.
Page 231 - Who is like thee in heaven, daughter of the night? The stars are ashamed in thy presence, and turn aside their sparkling eyes. Whither dost thou retire from thy course, when the darkness of thy countenance grows ? Hast thou thy hall like Ossian?
Page 215 - As autumn's dark storms pour from two echoing hills, so towards each other approached the heroes. As two dark streams from high rocks meet and mix, and roar on the plain: loud, rough, and dark in battle meet Lochlin and Inisfail. ... As the troubled noise of the ocean when roll the waves on high; as the last peal of the thunder of heaven; such is the noise of the battle.
Page 203 - My soul is full of other times ; the joy of my youth returns. Thus the sun appears in the west, after the steps of his brightness have moved behind a storm : the green hills lift their dewy heads ; the blue streams rejoice in the vale. The aged hero comes forth on his staff; his grey hair glitters in the beam.
Page 224 - The music of Carryl was, like the ." memory of joys that are past, pleasant and
Page 233 - Lycidas? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream-- Ay me! I fondly dream, Had ye been there; for what could that have done?
Page 226 - The Works of Ossian abound with beautiful and correct Metaphors: such as that on a Hero: " In " peace, thou art the Gale of Spring ; in war, the *' Mountain Storm." Or this, on a Woman : " She " was covered with the Light of Beauty; but her " heart was the House of Pride.

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