The Poems of Ossian: &c, Volum 2J. Ballantyne, 1805 |
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Side 30
... roe of the desert ! 19 When Oscar saw his friends around , his hea- ving breast arose . " The groans , " he said , " of aged chiefs : The howling of my dogs : The sud- den bursts of the song of grief , have melted Os- car's soul . My ...
... roe of the desert ! 19 When Oscar saw his friends around , his hea- ving breast arose . " The groans , " he said , " of aged chiefs : The howling of my dogs : The sud- den bursts of the song of grief , have melted Os- car's soul . My ...
Side 39
... roes ? Their stature is like young trees in the valley , growing in a shower ! Soft and ruddy are their cheeks ! Fearless souls look forth from their eyes 3 ! Who but the sons of Usnoth , chief of streamy Etha ? The people rise on every ...
... roes ? Their stature is like young trees in the valley , growing in a shower ! Soft and ruddy are their cheeks ! Fearless souls look forth from their eyes 3 ! Who but the sons of Usnoth , chief of streamy Etha ? The people rise on every ...
Side 68
... roes . At distance rose the voice of Fonar , with the deeds of the days of old . The song fails , at times , in Lubar's growing roar ! " Crothar , " begun the bard , " first dwelt at Atha's mossy streams ! A thousand oaks , from the ...
... roes . At distance rose the voice of Fonar , with the deeds of the days of old . The song fails , at times , in Lubar's growing roar ! " Crothar , " begun the bard , " first dwelt at Atha's mossy streams ! A thousand oaks , from the ...
Side 69
... roes . 19 The moon looked in - and saw the white - tossing of her arms . ] From the song , A Cold Frosty Morning . The moon look'd in and envied my love's charms . Cormul went forth to the strife , the brother of BOOK II . 69 AN EPIC POEM .
... roes . 19 The moon looked in - and saw the white - tossing of her arms . ] From the song , A Cold Frosty Morning . The moon look'd in and envied my love's charms . Cormul went forth to the strife , the brother of BOOK II . 69 AN EPIC POEM .
Side 78
... roes ! How long shalt thou rise on 32 I behold it dark in the rock , through the thin folds of mist . There , perhaps , Cuthullin sits , on the blast which bends its trees . ] The description of Tura's silent cave , is transcribed from ...
... roes ! How long shalt thou rise on 32 I behold it dark in the rock , through the thin folds of mist . There , perhaps , Cuthullin sits , on the blast which bends its trees . ] The description of Tura's silent cave , is transcribed from ...
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
aislin Alpin arms art thou Atha bards battle beam behold bends beneath blast blood bosom breast brow Cairbar Cathmor chief Clatho Clono cloud Cormac Dargo dark daughter death Dermid descend Earse echoing EPIC POEM Erin eyes fair fall fame father feast fell field Fillan Fingal Firbolg fire flies Foldath Gaul ghosts gleaming grey hall harp head hear heard heath heaven hero hill hunter Iliad king Lego light locks Loda look Lumon MACPHERSON maid midst mighty mist Moi-lena moon Morven mountains mournful night numbers o'er Oscar Ossian plain poem POPE's race rise roar rock roes rolled rose round rush sable Selma shield side sighs silent Somerled song soul sound spear sruth starry plough steel stood storm stream strife Sul-malla sword tears Temora thee thou Thuit tomb tree trembling Trenmor vale voice warrior waves winds wing youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 437 - For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Side 437 - SING unto the Lord a new song: sing unto the Lord, all the earth. Sing unto the Lord, bless his name ; shew forth his salvation from day to day. Declare his glory among the heathen, his wonders among all people. For the Lord is great, and greatly to be praised : he is to be feared above all gods.
Side 248 - customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he : The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Side 423 - Did you never observe (while rocking winds are piping loud) that pause, as the gust is recollecting itself, and rising upon the ear in a shrill and plaintive note, like the swell of an ^Eolian harp ? I do assure you there is nothing in the world so like the voice of a spirit.
Side 259 - Awake, /Eolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take ; The laughing flowers, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres...
Side 132 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
Side 200 - If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.
Side 71 - Of gathering vapour, from the baffled sense Sinks dark and dreary. Thence expanding far, The huge dusk, gradual, swallows up the plain : Vanish the woods ; the dim-seen river seems Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave.
Side 355 - Whose midnight revels by a forest side Or fountain some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Side 405 - A tree with scarce a leaf, long grass which whistles in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar! thou art low indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee; no maid with her tears of love. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan.