Fragment III (James Macpherson Poems)
Evening is grey on the hills. Thenorth wind resounds through thewoods. White clouds rise on the sky: thetrembling snow descends. ...
Evening is grey on the hills. Thenorth wind resounds through thewoods. White clouds rise on the sky: thetrembling snow descends. ...
I sit by the mossy fountain; on thetop of the hill of winds. One tree isrustling above me. Dark waves ...
CONNAL, CRIMORA,CRIMORA.Who cometh from the hill, likea cloud tinged with the beamof the west? Whose voice is that, loudas the wind, ...
Cuchlaid sat by the wall; by thetree of the rustling leaf.His spear leaned against the mossy rock.His shield lay by ...
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