The poems of Ossian, &c. containing the poetical works of J. Macpherson, with notes and illustr. by M. Laing, Volum 11805 |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 50.
Pàgina 16
... echoing Cona ; and night settles with all her clouds on the hill ! " 66 " Fly , thou man of peace , " said Calmar " , " fly , " said the son of Matha ; go , Connal , to thy silent hills , where the spear never brightens 18 His masts are ...
... echoing Cona ; and night settles with all her clouds on the hill ! " 66 " Fly , thou man of peace , " said Calmar " , " fly , " said the son of Matha ; go , Connal , to thy silent hills , where the spear never brightens 18 His masts are ...
Pàgina 19
... echoing hills * ? Hail thou son of Rossa ! what shades the soul of war ? " 66 Four stones , " replied the chief , " rise on the grave of Cathba . These hands have laid in earth Duchomar , that cloud in war ! Cathba , son of Torman ...
... echoing hills * ? Hail thou son of Rossa ! what shades the soul of war ? " 66 Four stones , " replied the chief , " rise on the grave of Cathba . These hands have laid in earth Duchomar , that cloud in war ! Cathba , son of Torman ...
Pàgina 23
... the braes of Yarrow . 32 On Cromla , I will raise his tomb , daughter of blue - shield- ed Cormac , Turn on Duchomar thine eyes ; his arm is strong as a storm . ] Id . maid . " Is he fallen on his echoing hills BOOK I. 23 AN EPIC POEM .
... the braes of Yarrow . 32 On Cromla , I will raise his tomb , daughter of blue - shield- ed Cormac , Turn on Duchomar thine eyes ; his arm is strong as a storm . ] Id . maid . " Is he fallen on his echoing hills BOOK I. 23 AN EPIC POEM .
Pàgina 24
Ossian Malcolm Laing. maid . " Is he fallen on his echoing hills , the youth with the breast of snow ? The first in the chace of hinds ? The foe of the strangers of ocean ? Thou art dark to me , Duchomar , cruel is thine arm to Morna ...
Ossian Malcolm Laing. maid . " Is he fallen on his echoing hills , the youth with the breast of snow ? The first in the chace of hinds ? The foe of the strangers of ocean ? Thou art dark to me , Duchomar , cruel is thine arm to Morna ...
Pàgina 33
... echoing main . Gather round the bright steel of your king ; is very grand in the original . There are four horses described in it , with a string of epithets applied to each , of which the transla- tor dropped a few through his fingers ...
... echoing main . Gather round the bright steel of your king ; is very grand in the original . There are four horses described in it , with a string of epithets applied to each , of which the transla- tor dropped a few through his fingers ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Poems of Ossian, &c. Containing the Poetical Works of J. Macpherson ... Ossian Previsualització no disponible - 2018 |
The Poems of Ossian, &C. Containing the Poetical Works of J. Macpherson ... Previsualització no disponible - 2020 |
The Poems of Ossian, &c. Containing the Poetical Works of J. Macpherson ... Ossian Previsualització no disponible - 2023 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Æneid arms art thou Balclutha bards battle beam behold bend blast blood breast Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Carthon cave chace chief clouds Comala Cona Connal Cromla Cuthullin Dar-thula Dargo dark daugh daughter death distant dost thou Earse echoing edit Erin eyes fame fathers feast feeble fell Fillan Fingal flame friends Gaul ghost grey grief hair hall harp hear heard heath heaven heroes Highlander hill imitation Irish ballad king of Morven king of swords Lathmon lift light Lochlin maid meteor midst mighty mist moon Morna Morni morning mountain mournful Nathos night o'er Oscar Ossian pale poem POPE's Iliad renown rise roar rock rolled rose rushed Ryno sails Selma shield side sigh silent song Song of Solomon sons soul sound spear storm stream strength Swaran sword tears Temora thee tomb Torman trembling Ullin Uthal vale voice waves wind youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 382 - 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! I fondly dream — Had ye been there...
Pàgina 344 - 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!
Pàgina 10 - His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand.
Pàgina 106 - Inspired repulsed battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel, by divine command, With rising tempests shakes a guilty land (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia passed), Calm and serene he drives the furious blast; And pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm.
Pàgina 305 - And Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth, and spread it for her upon the rock, from the beginning of harvest uniil water dropped upon them out of heaven, and suffered neither the birds of the air to rest on them by day, nor the beasts of the field by night.
Pàgina 462 - Weep, thou father of Morar! weep; but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead; low their pillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice; no more awake at thy call. When shall it be morn in the grave, to bid the slumberer awake?
Pàgina 195 - He shall fly away as a dream, and shall not be found: Yea, he shall be chased away as a vision of the night.
Pàgina 237 - Less than archangel ruined, and the excess Of glory obscured ; as when the sun, new risen, Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon, In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Pàgina 398 - And it came to pass that night, that the angel of the LORD went out, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians an hundred fourscore and five thousand : and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses.
Pàgina 384 - Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; Blow upon my garden, That the spices thereof may flow out.