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The poems of Ossian

&c. containing the Poetical Works of James Macpherson, Esq. in prose and rhyme: with notes and illustrations by Malcolm Laing. In two volumes
Macpherson, James (1736-1796)

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
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FINGAL, AN EPIC POEM;
 I. 
BOOK I.
 II. 
BOOK II.
 III. 
BOOK III.
 IV. 
BOOK IV.
 V. 
BOOK V.
 VI. 
BOOK VI.
  
COMALA:
  
THE WAR OF CAROS:
  
THE WAR OF INIS-THONA:
  
THE BATTLE OF LORA:
  
CONLATH AND CUTHONA:
  
CARTHON:
  
THE DEATH OF CUTHULLIN:
  
DAR-THULA:
  
CARRIC-THURA:
  
THE SONGS OF SELMA.
  
CALTHON AND COLMAL:
  
LATHMON:
  
OITHONA:
  
CROMA:
  
BERRATHON:
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VOL. II.
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TEMORA:
 I. 
BOOK I.
 II. 
BOOK II.
 III. 
BOOK III.
 IV. 
BOOK IV.
 V. 
BOOK V.
 VI. 
BOOK VI.
 VII. 
BOOK VII.
 VIII. 
BOOK VIII.
  
CATHLIN OF CLUTHA:
  
SULMALLA OF LUMON:
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CATH-LODA:
 1. 
DUAN FIRST.
 2. 
DUAN SECOND.
 3. 
DUAN THIRD.
  
OINA-MORUL:
  
COLNA-DONA:
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FRAGMENTS OF ANCIENT POETRY,
 I. 
I. SHILRIC, VINVELA.
 II. 
II. [I sit by the mossy fountain]
 III. 
III. [Evening is grey on the hills]
 IV. 
IV. CONNAL, CRIMORA.
 V. 
V. Autumn is dark on the mountains
 VI. 
VI. [Son of the noble Fingal]
 VII. 
VII. [Why openest thou afresh the spring of my grief]
 VIII. 
VIII. [By the side of a rock]
 IX. 
IX. [Thou askest, fair daughter of the isles!]
 X. 
X. [It is night]
 XI. 
XI. [Sad! I am sad indeed]
 XII. 
XII. RYNO, ALPIN.
 XIII. 
XIII. [Raise high the stones]
 XIV. 
XIV. [Cuchulaid sat by the wall]
 XV. 
XV. DUCHOMMAR, MORNA.
 XVI. 
XVI. [Where is Gealchossa]
  
THE SIX BARDS,
  
DEATH:
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THE HUNTER:
 I. 
CANTO I.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.
 IV. 
CANTO IV.
 V. 
CANTO V.
 VI. 
CANTO VI.
collapse sectionVII. 
CANTO VII.
  
Monday, 29th November.
  
November 30.
  
2d December, 1756.
 VIII. 
CANTO VIII.
 IX. 
CANTO IX.
 X. 
CANTO X.
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THE HIGHLANDER:
 I. 
CANTO I.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.
 IV. 
CANTO IV.
 V. 
CANTO V.
 VI. 
CANTO VI.
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
  
ON THE DEATH OF MARSHAL KEITH.
  
ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY.
  
TO THE MEMORY OF AN OFFICER KILLED BEFORE QUEBEC.
  
THE EARL MARISCHAL'S WELCOME TO HIS NATIVE COUNTRY.
  
HORACE,
  
HORACE,
  
THE CHOICE.
  
WRITTEN ON A BIRTH DAY.
  
THE MONUMENT.
  
VERSES SENT TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH SOME TRANSLATIONS FROM THE ERSE.
  
THE CAVE.
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FRAGMENTS FROM TYRTÆUS.
 I. 
FRAGMENT I.
 II. 
FRAGMENT II.
 III. 
FRAGMENT III.
  
ANACREON, ODE IV. TRANSLATED.
  
ANACREON, ODE VIII.
  
IN ANSWER TO A LETTER FROM DELIA.
  
A NIGHT-PIECE.
  
VERSES TO A YOUNG LADY.
  
FRAGMENT OF A NORTHERN TALE.
  
THE SAME VERSIFIED.

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THE SAME VERSIFIED.

Where fair-haired Harold o'er Scandinia reigned,
And held, with justice, what his valour gained,
Sevo, in snow, his rugged forehead rears,
And, o'er the warfare of his storms, appears
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Abrupt and vast. White-wandering down his side
A thousand torrents, gleaming as they glide,
Unite below; and pouring through the plain
Hurry the troubled Torno to the main.
Grey, on the bank, remote from human kind,
By aged pines half sheltered from the wind,
A homely mansion rose, of antique form,
For ages battered by the polar storm.
To this fierce Sigurd fled from Norway's lord,
When fortune settled on the warrior's sword,
In that rude field where Suecia's chiefs were slain;
Or forced to wander o'er the Bothnic main.
Dark was his life, yet undisturbed with woes;
But when the memory of defeat arose,
His proud heart struck his side; he graspt the spear,
And wounded Harold in the vacant air.
One daughter only, but of form divine,
The last fair beam of the departing line,
Remained of Sigurd's race. His warlike son
Fell in the shock which overturned the throne.
Nor desolate the house! Fionia's charms
Sustained the glory, which they lost in arms.
White was her arm, as Sevo's lofty snow,
Her bosom fairer than the waves below,
When heaving to the winds. Her radiant eyes
Like two bright stars, exulting as they rise,
O'er the dark tumult of a stormy night,
And gladdening heaven, with their majestic light.
In nought is Odin to the maid unkind,
Her form scarce equals her exalted mind;
Awe leads her sacred steps where'er they move,
And mankind worship where they dare not love.
But, mixed with softness, was the virgin's pride,
Her heart had feelings which her eyes denied.
Her bright tears started at another's woes,
While transient darkness on her soul arose.
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The chace she loved; when morn, with doubtful beam,
Came dimly wandering o'er the Bothnic stream,
On Sevo's sounding sides she bent the bow,
And rouzed his forests to his head of snow.
Nor moved the maid alone, &c.
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