The Poems of Ossian, Том 3William Miller, 1812 |
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arms art thou Atha bards battle beam behold bend blast blue streams Borbar-duthul Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Cathmor cave chief Clatho Clono cloud Cona Conar Connal Cormac Cuthullin Dar-thula dark darkened daughter death distant dost thou dwelling echoing Erin Etha eyes fall fame fathers feast feeble fell field Fillan Fingal Firbolg Foldath Gaul ghosts gleaming grey grief hall harp hear heard heath hero hill host Inis-huna king of Ireland Lathmon Lego lift the spear light Lochlin locks Lubar maid Malthos midst mighty mist Moi-lena Moma Mora Morni mossy mournful Nathos night Oscar Ossian poem rejoice renown rise roar rock roes rolled rose rush Ryno Selma shield side sigh silent song sons soul sound steel steps storm stream strength strife Strutha Sul-malla Swaran sword tears Temora thee thine Thou art tomb Trenmor Ullin Usnoth Uthal vale voice warrior waves wind youth
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Стр. 59 - Daughter of Heaven, fair art thou ! the silence of thy face is pleasant. Thou comest forth in loveliness : the stars attend thy blue steps in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O Moon ! and brighten their dark-brown sides.
Стр. 118 - The blue waves of Ullin roll in light; the green hills are covered with day; trees shake their dusky heads in the breeze.
Стр. 104 - The remembrance of battles past, and the return of peace is compared to the sun returning after a storm : " Hear the battle of Lora! the sound of its steel is long since past: so thunder on the darkened hill roars, and is no more ; the sun returns with his silent beams; the glittering rocks, and green heads of the mountains, smile.
Стр. 330 - Did thy beauty last, 0 Ryno ? Stood the strength of car-borne Oscar ! Fingal himself departed ! The halls of his fathers forgot his steps. Shalt thou then remain, thou aged bard, when the mighty have failed ? But my fame shall remain, and grow like the oak of Morven ; which lifts its broad head to the storm, and rejoices in the course of the wind...
Стр. 129 - The spear of Temora glitters in thy hand, son of woody Morven ! It was the pride of an hundred kings, the death of heroes of old. Yield it, son of Ossian, yield it to car-borne Cairbar." "Shall I yield," Oscar replied, "the gift of Erin's injured king: the gift of fair-haired Cormac, when Oscar scattered his foes ! I came to Cormac's halls of joy, when Swaran fled from Fingal. Gladness rose in the face of youth : he gave the spear of Temora. Nor did he give it to the feeble, O Cairbar, neither to...
Стр. 328 - There is a murmur in the heath ! the stormy winds abate ! I hear the voice of FingaL Long has it been absent from mine earl Come, Ossian, come away, he says.
Стр. 60 - Are they who rejoiced with thee, at night, no more? Yes! they have fallen, fair light! and thou dost often retire to mourn. But thou thyself shall fail, one night ; and leave thy blue path in heaven. The stars will then lift their heads: they, who were ashamed in thy presence, will rejoice.
Стр. 314 - So shall they search in vain for the voice of Cona, after it has failed in the field. The hunter shall come forth in the morning, and the voice of my harp shall not be heard. " Where is the son of car-borne Fingal?
Стр. 290 - Khali meet me, at the gates of their airy halls, tall, with robes of light, with mildly-kindled eyes. But, to the proud in arms, they are darkened moons in heaven, which send the fire of night redwandering over their face.
Стр. 159 - Moma, though thine arm is a tempest in war. Do I forget the king of Erin, in his narrow house ? My soul is not lost to Cairbar, the brother of my love ! I marked the bright beams of joy, which travelled over his cloudy mind, when I returned) with fame, to Atha of the streams.