ISBN: 1163201456 / ISBN-13: 9781163201459
The Poems of Ossian
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) ... Show synopsis This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1819 edition. Excerpt: ...of echoing Croma!" The feast is spread. The harp is ' Inisfail, one of the ancient names of Ireland. heard; and joy is in the hall. But it was joy covering a sigh, that darkly dwelt in every breast. It was like the faint beam of the moon spread on a cloud in heaven. At length the music ceased, and the aged king of Croma spoke; he spoke without a tear, but sorrow swelled in the midst of his voice. " Son of Fingal! beholdest thou not the darkness of Crothar's joy? My soul was not sad at the feast, when my peoplelived before me. I rejoiced in the presence of strangers, when my son shone in the hall. But, Ossian, he is a beam that is departed. He left no streak of light behind. He is fallen, son of Fingal! in the wars of his father. Rothmar the chief of grassy Tromlo heard that these eyes had failed; he heard that my arms were fixed in the hall. and the pride of his soul arose! He came towards Croma; my people fell before him. I took my arms in my wrath, but what could sightless Crothar do? My steps were unequal; my grief was great. I wished for the days that were past. Days! wherein I fought; and won in the field of blood. My son returned from the chase: the fairhaired Fovar-gormo. He had notlifted his sword in battle, for his arm was young. But the soul of the youth was great; the fire of valourburnt in his eyes. He saw the disordered steps of his father, and his sigh arose.--' King of Croma, ' he said, ' is it because thou hast no son; is it for the weakness of Fovar-gormo's arm that thy sighs arise? I begin, my father, to feel my strength; I have drawn the sword of my youth; and I have bent the bow. Let me meet this Rothmar, with the sons of Croma: let me meet him, Omy father! I feel my...