The poems of Ossian, tr. by J. Macpherson. To which are prefixed dissertations on the æra and poems of Ossian, Հատոր 2

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Էջ 21 - POEM. .DAUGHTER of heaven, fair art thou! the silence of thy face is pleasant ! Thou comest forth in loveliness. The stars attend thy blue course in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O moon ! They brighten their dark-brown sides.
Էջ 263 - I saw their chief, tall as a rock of ice ; his spear, the blasted fir ; his shield, the rising moon ; he sat on the shore, like a cloud of mist On the hi 1 In.
Էջ 298 - Deugala was the spouse of Cairbar, chief of the plains of Ullin. She was covered with the light of beauty, but her heart was the house of pride.
Էջ 71 - The blue waves of Ullin roll in light; the green hills are covered with day; trees shake their dusky heads in the breeze.
Էջ 251 - Did not Ossian hear a voice ? or is it the sound of days that are no more? Often, like the evening sun, comes the memory of former times on my soul.
Էջ 316 - Oscar ! bend the strong in arm; but spare the feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides against the foes of thy people; but like the gale that moves the grass to those who ask thine aid.—So Tremor lived; such Trathal was; and such has Fingal been. My arm was the support of the injured; and the weak rested behind the lightning of my steel.
Էջ 274 - Were Fingal himself before me, my soul should not darken with fear. Arise to battle, my thousands ! pour round me like the echoing main. Gather round the bright steel of your king; strong as the rocks of my land ; that meet the storm with joy, and stretch their dark pines to the wind!
Էջ 273 - The high-maned, broad-breasted, proud, Wide-leaping, strong steed of the hill. Loud and resounding is his hoof; The spreading of his mane above Is like a stream of smoke on a ridge of rocks. Bright are the sides of the steed...
Էջ 262 - Moran !' replied the blue-eyed chief, ' thou ever tremblest, son of Fithil! Thy fears have increased the foe. It is Fingal, King of deserts, with aid to green Erin of streams.
Էջ 265 - Lightning pours from their sides of steel. They come like streams from the mountains; each rushes roaring from his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle, in the armor of their fathers. Gloomy and dark their heroes follow, like the gathering of the rainy clouds behind the red meteors of heaven.

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