The Poems of Ossian, Volume 2W. Strahan and T. Cadell, 1785 - 435 pages |
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ancient arife aroſe Atha bards battle beam behold bends blaſt Cairbar Caledonians Cathmor chief circumſtance Clatho Clono cloud compoſition Conar Cormac courſe Cuthullin dark death deſcended deſcribed deſcription diſtant epiſode Erin eyes fame father feaſt fide filent Fillan Fingal Firbolg firſt Foldath fome fong foul fublime Gaul ghost grey hall harp heath heroes hill hiſtory Homer Iliad Ireland Irish king laſt lift miſt Moi-lena Morni Morven moſt muſt night obſerve Ofcar Offian Oſcar Oſſian paſs paſſage perſon poem poet poetry poſſeſſed praiſe preſented raiſed reſt riſe rock roes rolled roſe ruſh ſame ſay ſcene Scots ſeems ſeen Selma ſentiment ſeveral ſhall ſhe ſhield ſhould ſkirts ſome ſon ſong ſpeak ſpear ſpirit ſpread ſtands ſtars ſtate ſteel ſteps ſtill ſtood ſtorm ſtory ſtrangers ſtream ſtrength ſtrike ſtrong Strutha ſubject ſuch Sul-malla ſword Temora thee theſe thoſe thou tomb Uthal voice warriors waves whoſe winds
Popular passages
Page 426 - Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd 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!
Page 422 - 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 425 - Tom? whom the foul fiend hath led through fire and through flame, through ford and whirlpool, o'er bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow, and halters in his pew...
Page 415 - I, like an ancient oak on Morven, I moulder alone in my place. The blast hath lopped my branches away; and I tremble at the wings of the north.
Page 404 - Cormac who was distant far, in Temora's echoing halls; he learned to bend the bow of his fathers, and to lift the spear. Nor long didst thou lift the spear, mildly shining beam of youth! Death stands dim behind thee, like the darkened half of the moon behind its growing light!
Page 387 - I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded in the halls : and the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook there its lonely head ; the moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows, the rank grass of the wall waved round its head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina, silence is in the house of her fathers.
Page 350 - Ofcar! bend the ftrong in arms, but fpare the feeble hand. Be thou a ftream of many tides againft the foes of thy people ; but like the gale that moves the...
Page 292 - An American chief, at this day, harangues at the head of his tribe, in a more bold metaphorical style, than a modern European would adventure to use in an Epic poem.
Page 391 - Gaul in his arms, and my foul was mixed with his : for the fire of the battle was in his eyes ! he looked to the foe with joy. We fpoke the words of friendship in fecret ; and the lightning of our fwords poured together ; for we drew them behind the wood, and tried the ftrength of our arms on the empty air.