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" I sit by the mossy fountain; on the top of the hill of winds. One tree is rustling above me. Dark waves roll over the heath. The lake is troubled below. The deer descend from the hill. No hunter at a distance is seen. It is mid-day: but all is silent. "
Literary Hours: Or, Sketches Critical and Narrative - Page 229
by Natham Drake - 1800
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Ossian and Ossianism: The poems of Ossian, Volume 2

Dafydd Moore - Celts in literature - 2004 - 612 pages
...the field, and me was feen no more. Hear the fong of Shilric, it is foft but fad. I SIT by the moffy fountain ; on the top of the hill of winds. One tree is ruftling above me. Dark waves roll over the heath. The lake is troubled below. The deer defcend from...
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