<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540055" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN this still place, remote from men,<br>Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN;<br>In this still place, where murmurs on<br>But one meek streamlet, only one:<br>He sang of battles, and the breath<br>Of stormy war, and violent death;<br>And should, methinks, when all was past,<br>Have rightfully been laid at last<br>Where rocks were rudely heaped, and rent<br>As by a spirit turbulent;<br>Where sights were rough, and sounds were wild, <br>And everything unreconciled;<br>In some complaining, dim retreat,<br>For fear and melancholy meet;<br>But this is calm; there cannot be<br>A more entire tranquillity.<br>Does then the Bard sleep here indeed?<br>Or is it but a groundless creed?<br>What matters it?--I blame them not<br>Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot<br>Was moved; and in such way expressed <br>Their notion of its perfect rest.<br>A convent, even a hermit's cell,<br>Would break the silence of this Dell:<br>It is not quiet, is not ease;<br>But something deeper far than these:<br>The separation that is here<br>Is of the grave; and of austere<br>Yet happy feelings of the dead:<br>And, therefore, was it rightly said<br>That Ossian, last of all his race! <br>Lies buried in this lonely place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Wordsworth">William Wordsworth</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=540055" data-title="Memorials Of A Tour Of Scotland, 1803 VI. Glen-Almain, Or, The Narrow Glen de William Wordsworth" data-description="IN this still place, remote from men, Sleeps Ossian, in the NARROW GLEN; In this still place, where murmurs on But one meek streamlet, only one: He sang of battles, and the breath Of stormy war, and violent death; And should, methinks, when all wa..."></div> </div> </div>

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