The Poems of Ossian: &c, Volum 2J. Ballantyne, 1805 |
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Side 19
... thought that mighty Cathmor came . Cathmor , the friend of stran- gers ! the brother of red - haired Cairbar . Their souls were not the same . The light of heaven was in the bosom of Cathmor . His towers rose on the banks of Atha ...
... thought that mighty Cathmor came . Cathmor , the friend of stran- gers ! the brother of red - haired Cairbar . Their souls were not the same . The light of heaven was in the bosom of Cathmor . His towers rose on the banks of Atha ...
Side 21
... thoughts , amidst the feast of shells . My son rai- sed high the spear of Cormac . of Cormac . An hundred bards met him with songs . Cairbar concealed with smiles , the death that was dark in his soul . The feast is spread . The shells ...
... thoughts , amidst the feast of shells . My son rai- sed high the spear of Cormac . of Cormac . An hundred bards met him with songs . Cairbar concealed with smiles , the death that was dark in his soul . The feast is spread . The shells ...
Side 39
... thought and style . The in- troduction of the sons of Usnoth into the episode , was a branch of the original plan , of representing old Usnoth as an actor in the poem , listening to the episode , and ready to revenge the death of his ...
... thought and style . The in- troduction of the sons of Usnoth into the episode , was a branch of the original plan , of representing old Usnoth as an actor in the poem , listening to the episode , and ready to revenge the death of his ...
Side 43
... thoughts are dark and bloody ! But thou art the brother of Cathmor ; and Cathmor shall shine in , thy war . But my soul is not like thine : thou feeble hand in fight ! The light of my bo- som is stained with thy deeds . Bards will not ...
... thoughts are dark and bloody ! But thou art the brother of Cathmor ; and Cathmor shall shine in , thy war . But my soul is not like thine : thou feeble hand in fight ! The light of my bo- som is stained with thy deeds . Bards will not ...
Side 69
... thought of the mighty Crothar , in the season of dreams . " Three days feasted Crothar with Cathmin . On the fourth they awaked the hinds . Con- lama moved to the chace , with all her lovely steps . She met Crothar in the narrow path ...
... thought of the mighty Crothar , in the season of dreams . " Three days feasted Crothar with Cathmin . On the fourth they awaked the hinds . Con- lama moved to the chace , with all her lovely steps . She met Crothar in the narrow path ...
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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.