The poems of Ossian, tr. by J. Macpherson. To which are prefixed dissertations on the era and poems of Ossian, Band 21805 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 49
Seite 3
... Dost thou not be- hold , Malvina , a rock with its head of heath ? Three aged firs bend from its face ; green is the narrow plain at its feet ; there the flower of the mountain grows , and shakes its white head in the breeze . there ...
... Dost thou not be- hold , Malvina , a rock with its head of heath ? Three aged firs bend from its face ; green is the narrow plain at its feet ; there the flower of the mountain grows , and shakes its white head in the breeze . there ...
Seite 6
... dost thou build the hall , son of the winged days ? thou lookest from thy towers to - day ; yet a few years , and the blast of the desart comes ; it howls on thy empty i The title of this poem in the original is , Duan na nlaoi , ' i ...
... dost thou build the hall , son of the winged days ? thou lookest from thy towers to - day ; yet a few years , and the blast of the desart comes ; it howls on thy empty i The title of this poem in the original is , Duan na nlaoi , ' i ...
Seite 9
... Dost thou speak to the feeble in arms , " said Car- thon , " bard of the woody Morven ? Is my face pale for fear , son of the peaceful song ? Why , then , dost thou think to darken my soul with the tales of those who fell ? My arm has ...
... Dost thou speak to the feeble in arms , " said Car- thon , " bard of the woody Morven ? Is my face pale for fear , son of the peaceful song ? Why , then , dost thou think to darken my soul with the tales of those who fell ? My arm has ...
Seite 11
... dost thou wound my soul ! " re- plied Clessammor with a tear . Age does not tremble on my hand ; I still can lift the sword . Shall I fly in Fingal's sight ; in the sight of him I loved ? Son of the sea , I never fled ; exalt thy ...
... dost thou wound my soul ! " re- plied Clessammor with a tear . Age does not tremble on my hand ; I still can lift the sword . Shall I fly in Fingal's sight ; in the sight of him I loved ? Son of the sea , I never fled ; exalt thy ...
Seite 15
... dost thou delay thy coming , son of the generous Semo ! Four times has autumn returned with its winds , and raised the seas of Togorma , since thou hast been in the roar of battles , Togorma , i . e . the island of blue waves , ' one of ...
... dost thou delay thy coming , son of the generous Semo ! Four times has autumn returned with its winds , and raised the seas of Togorma , since thou hast been in the roar of battles , Togorma , i . e . the island of blue waves , ' one of ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
arms arose art thou Atha Balclutha bards battle beam behold bend blast blue streams Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Carthon Cathmor cave chief Clono cloud Clutha Connal Cormac Crimora Crothar Cuthullin Dar-thula Dargo dark darkened daugh daughter death desart descended dost thou dwelling echoing Erin eyes fame father feast feeble fell field Fillan Fingal Firbolg Foldath Gaul ghosts gleaming grey grief hair hall harp hear heard heath heroes hill host Inis-huna king of Ireland Lathmon Lego lift light locks Loda look maid Malvina midst mighty mist Moi-lena moon Morni Morven mossy mournful Nathos night Oscar Ossian poem race rejoice renown rise roar rock roes rolled rose rushed Scandinavia Selma shield sigh silent song sons soul sound spear Starno steel steps stood strangers stream strife Strutha Sul-malla sword tears Temora thee tomb Trenmor Ullin Uthal vale voice warriors waves winds wing youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 14 - When the world is dark with tempests, when thunder rolls and lightning flies, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest in vain ; for he beholds thy beams no more, whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season ; thy years will have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds careless of the voice of the morning.
Seite 14 - 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!
Seite 6 - 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.
Seite 49 - 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. The flies of evening are on their feeble wings: the hum of their course is on the field. What dost thou behold, fair light ? But thou dost smile and depart. The waves come with joy around thee: they bathe thy lovely hair....
Seite 47 - O Connal ! it was here thou didst fall. Thine arm was like a storm ; thy sword a bean. of the sky ; thy height, a rock on the plain ; thine eyes, a furnace of fire. Louder than a storm was thy voice, in the battles of thy steel. Warriors fell by thy sword, as the thistle by the staff of a boy.
Seite 52 - RYNO The wind and the rain are past: calm is the noon of day. The clouds are divided in heaven. Over the green hills flies the inconstant sun. Red through the stony vale comes down the stream of the hill. Sweet are thy murmurs, O stream! but more sweet is the voice I hear. It is the voice of Alpin, the son of song, mourning for the dead!
Seite 50 - Ullin! stately Ryno ! Alpin, with the tuneful voice ! the soft complaint of Minona ! How are ye changed, my friends, since the days of Selma's feast ! when we contended, like gales of spring, as they fly along the hill, and bend by turns the feebly whistling grass.
Seite 177 - No : ye dark-rolling years, Fingal delights not in blood. Tears are wintry streams that waste away my soul. But, when I lie down to rest, then comes the mighty voice of war. It awakes me in my hall, and calls forth all my steel. It shall call it forth no more ; Ossian, take thou thy father's spear. Lift it, in battle, when the proud arise. " My fathers, Ossian, trace my steps ; my deeds are pleasant to their eyes. Wherever I come forth to battle, on my field, are their columns of mist.
Seite 9 - ... of smoke pleased mine eye, when they rose above my walls ! I often looked back, with gladness, when my friends fled along the hill. But when the years of my youth came on, I beheld the moss of my fallen walls : my sigh arose with the morning, and my tears descended with night. Shall I not fight, I said to my soul, against the children of my foes ? And I will fight, O bard ! I feel the strength of my soul.
Seite 162 - Sleeps the husband of Clatho? Dwells the father of the fallen in rest? Am I forgot in the folds of darkness , lonely in the season of night? " "Why dost thou mix," said the king, "with the dreams of thy father?