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a-bove accel back with joy bar's gen BARITONE cash chase chiefs of oth CHORUS cleft on high clothed her sides Comal CONTRALTO cresc crete Curach Darts rush daugh daughter of Conloch days of oth days of oth-er deeds of days EDWARD GERMAN fa-thers Fingal FRANCO LEONI harp in praise heard the sprightly heath hill hun-dred bards J J J J King of Morven LEAVES FROM OSSIAN Lento Let a hun-dred let a thou-sand LIZA LEHMANN Lu-bar's gen Malvina meet roaring waves Moderato mosso mountains fall mur-mur of thy PIANO poco poeo aeeel r r r ritenuto rock sat and heard sempre f Songs SOPRANO sounds on steel Spread the feast sprightly harp storm strike the harp sun is faint Take the harp tale TENOR Thou look-est thou-sand lights Rise thy beauty Thy ev-er-last-ing light Twas the wont VINVELA Whence are thy winds
Page 7 - O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth, in thy awful beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But thou thyself movest alone: who can be a companion of thy course!
Page 7 - She fleets, she sails away; as grey mist before the wind!—and, wilt thou not stay, my love? Stay and behold my tears? fair thou appearest, my love! fair thou wast, when alive! By the mossy fountain I will sit; on the top of the hill of winds. When mid-day is silent around, converse, O my love, with me!
Page 6 - OUR youth is like the dream of the hunter on the hill of heath. He sleeps in the mild beams of the sun; he awakes amidst a storm; the red lightning flies around: trees shake their heads to the wind! He looks back with joy, on the day of the sun; and the pleasant dreams of his rest!
Page 8 - BRING, daughter of Toscar ! bring the harp ! the light of the song- rises in Ossian's soul ! It is like the field, when darkness covers the hills around, and the shadow grows slowly on the plain of the sun. I behold my son, O Malvina ! near the mossy rock of Crona.* But it is the mist of the desert, tinged with the beam of the west ! Lovely is the mist, that assumes the form of Oscar ! turn from it, ye winds...
Page 5 - Pleasant are the words of the song, said Cuchullin, and lovely are the tales of other times. They are like the calm dew of the morning on the hill of roes, when the sun is faint on its side, and, the lake is settled and blue in the vale.
Page 7 - VINVELA. My love is a son of the hill. He pursues the flying deer. His grey dogs are panting around him ; his bow-string sounds in the wind. Dost thou rest by the fount of the rock, or by the noise of the mountain-stream? The rushes are nodding to the wind, the mist flies over the hill.
Page 5 - His face was the mildness of youth; but his hand the death of heroes. One was his love, and fair was she! the daughter of mighty Conloch. She appeared like a sun-beam among women, and her hair was like the wing of the raven.
Page 5 - He watched her lone steps in the heath! — the foe of unhappy Comal. " One day, tired of the chase, 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 were hung with his arms. A hundred shields of thongs were there; a hundred helms of sounding steel. ' Rest here,' he said, 'my love, Galvina; thou light of the cave of Ronan!
Page 5 - His deer drunk of a thousand streams. A thousand rocks replied to the voice of his dogs. His face was the mildness of youth. His hand the death of heroes. One was his love, and fair was she! the daughter of mighty Conloch. She appeared like a sun-beam among women.