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LibraryThing Reviewユーザー レビュー - 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 ... レビュー全文を読む
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aged appears arms arose bards battle beam behold bend blast blood blue bound Cairbar called Carril Cathmor cave chief cloud comes Connal Cormac course Cuthullin dark daughter death distant dwelling echoing Erin eyes face fall fallen fame father feast fell field fight Fillan Fingal fire friends Gaul ghosts give grey hair hall hand harp head hear heard heath heroes hill Ireland king land lift light locks look maid midst mighty mist Morven mournful never night Oscar Ossian passed poem race raised renowned replied rest rise roar rock rolled rose round rushed seen Selma 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
176 ページ - Why 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 desert comes ; it howls in thy empty court, and whistles round thy half-worn shield.
184 ページ - 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 ; but thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness of thy course.
184 ページ - 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; and the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave; but thou thyself movest alone.
160 ページ - He lifted high his shadowy spear ! He bent forward his dreadful height. Fingal, advancing, drew his sword. the blade of dark-brown Luno. The gleaming path of the steel winds through the gloomy ghost. The form fell shapeless into air, like a column of smoke, which the staff of the boy disturbs, as it rises from the half-extinguished furnace.
414 ページ - 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?
411 ページ - Cease a little while, O wind! stream, be thou silent a while! let my voice be heard around. Let my wanderer hear me! Salgar! it is Colma who calls. Here is the tree, and the rock. Salgar, my love!
409 ページ - TAR 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.
387 ページ - A soliloquy by the poet himself. j}UR youth is like the dream of the hunter on the hill of heath. He sleeps in the mild beams of the sun ; he awakes amidst a. storm ; the red lightning flies around : trees shake their heads to the wind! He looks back with joy, on the day of the sun ; and the pleasant dreams of his rest...
413 ページ - Many fell by thy arm; they were consumed in the flames of thy wrath. But when thou didst return from war, how peaceful was thy brow! Thy face was like the sun after rain; like the moon in the silence of night; calm as the breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid.