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LibraryThing ReviewCrítica de los usuarios - hbergander - LibraryThing
The authenticity of Macpherson’s collection was already controversially judged, when it came, translated in several European languages, to the continent. The author was said having written the poems ... Leer comentario completo
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appears arms arose bards battle beam behold bend blast blood Cairbar called Cathmor cave chief cloud comes course Cuthullin dark daughter death distant dwelling echoing Erin eyes face fall fallen fame fathers feast fell field fight Fillan Fingal fire friends Gaul ghosts give grey grief hair hall hand harp head hear heard heath heaven heroes hill king land lift light locks look maid meet midst mighty mist moon Morven mournful moved nature never night Oscar Ossian poem poet race raised renowned rest rise roar rock rolled rose round rushed seen shield side sigh silent song sons soul sound spear spirit spread steel steps stood storm strangers stream strength Swaran sword tears thee thou thousand tomb tree turned voice warriors waves wind young youth
Página 111 - 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; for what could that have done?
Página 163 - 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? The oaks of the mountains fall ; the mountains themselves decay with years ; the ocean shrinks, and grows again; the moon herself is lost in heaven.
Página 210 - When night comes on the hill — when the loud winds arise, my ghost shall stand in the blast, and mourn the death of my friends. The hunter shall hear from his booth ; he shall fear, but love my voice ! For sweet shall my voice be for my friends : pleasant were her friends to Colma.
Página 210 - I SIT in my grief! I wait for morning in my tears! Rear the tomb, ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream: why should I stay behind? Here shall I rest with my friends, by the stream of the sounding rock.
Página 74 - It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence and I heard a voice, saying, 17 Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Página 147 - Thou frownest in vain: I never fled from the mighty in war. And shall the sons of the wind frighten the king of Morven? No: he knows the weakness of their arms!' 'Fly to thy land,' replied the form: 'receive the wind and fly!
Página 208 - STAR of descending night! fair is thy light in the west! thou liftest thy unshorn head from thy cloud: thy steps are stately on thy hill. What dost thou behold in the plain ? The stormy winds are laid. The murmur of the torrent comes from afar. Roaring •waves climb the distant rock.
Página 109 - 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.
Página 157 - I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. The fire had resounded ip 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.
Página 88 - The flower hangs its heavy head, waving, at times, to the gale. Why dost thou awake me, O gale, it seems to say, I am covered with the drops of heaven? The time of my fading is near, and the blast that shall scatter my leaves. Tomorrow shall the traveller come, he that saw me in my beauty shall come; his eyes will search the field, but they will not find me?