Fingal - Book V Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B C D E B B B B B B B B

ARGUMENTA
-
Cuthullin and Connal still remain on the hill Fingal and Swaran meet the combat is described Swaran is overcome bound and delivered over as a prisoner to the care of Ossian and Gaul the son of Morni Fingal his younger sons and Oscar still pursue the enemy The episode of Orla a chief of Lochlin who was mortally wounded in the battle is introduced Fingal touched with the death of Orla orders the pursuit to be discontinued and calling his sons together he is informed that Ryno the youngest of them was slain He laments his death hears the story of Lamderg and Gelchossa and returns towards the place where he had left Swaran Carril who had been sent by Cuthullin to congratulate Fingal on his victory comes in the mean time to Ossian The conversation of the two poets closes the action of the fourth dayB
-
-
-
On Cromla's resounding side Connal spoke to the chief of the noble car Why that gloom son of Semo Our friends are the mighty in fight Renowned art thou O warrior many were the deaths of thy steel Often has Brag la met with blue rolling eyes of joy often has she met her hero returning in the midst of the valiant when his sword was red with slaughter when his foes were silent in the fields of the tomb Pleasant to her ears were thy bards when thy deeds arose in songC
-
But behold the king of Morven He moves below like a pillar of fire His strength is like the stream of Lubar or the wind of the echoing Cromla when the branchy forests of night are torn from all their rocks Happy are thy people O Fingal thine arm shall finish their wars Thou art the first in their dangers the wisest in the days of their peace Thou speakest and thy thousands obey armies tremble at the sound of thy steel Happy are thy people O Fingal king of resounding Selma Who is that so dark and terrible coming in the thunder of his course who but Starno's son to meet the king of Morven Behold the battle of the chiefs it is the storm of the ocean when two spirits meet far distant and contend for the rolling of waves The hunter hears the noise on his bill He sees the high billows advancing to Ardven's shoreD
-
Such were the words of Connal when the heroes met in fight There was the clang of arms there every blow like the hundred hammers of the furnace Terrible is the battle of the kings dreadful the look of their eyes Their dark brown shields are cleft in twain Their steel flies broken from their helms They fling their weapons down Each rushes to his hero's grasp their sinewy arms bend round each other they turn from side to side and strain and stretch their large spreading limbs below But when the pride of their strength arose they shook the hill with their heels Rocks tumble from their places on high the green headed bushes are overturned At length the strength of Swaran fell the king of the groves is bound Thus have I seen on Cona but Cona I behold no more thus have I seen two dark hills removed from their place by the strength of their bursting stream They turn from side to side in their fall their tall oaks meet one another on high Then they tumble together with all their rocks and trees The streams are turned by their side The red ruin is seen afarE
-
quot Sons of distant Morven quot said Fingal quot guard the king of Lochlin He is strong as his thousand waves His hand is taught to war His race is of the times of old Gaul thou first of my heroes Ossian king of songs attend He is the friend of Agandecca raise to joy his grief But Oscar Fillan and Ryno ye children of the race pursue Lochlin over Lena that no vessel may hereafter bound on the dark rolling waves of Inistore quotB
-
They flew sudden across the heath He slowly moved like a cloud of thunder when the sultry plain of summer is silent and dark His sword is before him as a sunbeam terrible as the streaming meteor of night He came towards a chief of Lochlin He spoke to the son of the wave quot Who is that so dark and sad at the rock of the roaring stream He cannot bound over its course How stately is the chief His bossy shield is on his side his spear like the tree f the desert Youth of the dark red hair art thou of the foes of Fingal quotB
-
quot I am a son of Lochlin quot he cries quot strong is my arm in war My spouse is weeping at home Orla shall never return quot quot Or fights or yields the hero quot said Fingal of the noble deeds quot foes do not conquer in my presence my friends are renowned in the hall Son of the wave follow me partake the feast of my shells pursue the deer of my desert be thou the friend of Fingal quot quot No quot said the hero quot I assist the feeble My strength is with the weak in arms My sword has been always unmatched O warrior let the king of Morven yield quot quot I never yielded Orla Fingal never yielded to man Draw thy sword and choose thy foe Many are my heroes quotB
-
quot Does then the king refuse the fight quot said Orla of the dark brown shield quot Fingal is a match for Orla and he alone of all his race But king of Morven if I shall fall as one time the warrior must die raise my tomb in the midst let it be the greatest on Lena Send over the dark blue wave the sword of Orla to the spouse of his love that she may show it to her son with tears to kindle his soul to war quot quot Son of the mournful tale quot said Fingal quot why dost thou awaken my tears One day the warriors must die and the children see their useless arms in the hall But Orla thy tomb shall rise Thy white bosomed spouse shall weep over thy sword quotB
-
They fought on the heath of Lena Feeble was the arm of Orla The sword of Fingal descended and cleft his shield in twain It fell and glittered on the ground as the moon on the ruffled stream quot King of Morven quot said the hero quot lift thy sword and pierce my breast Wounded and faint from battle my friends have left me here The mournful tale shall come to my love on the banks of the streamy Lota when she is alone in the wood and the rustling blast in the leaves quotB
-
quot No quot said the king of Morven quot I will never wound thee Orla On the banks of Lota let her see thee escaped from the hands of war Let thy gray haired father who perhaps is blind with age let him hear the sound of thy voice and brighten within his hall With joy let the hero rise and search for the son with his hands quot quot But never will he find him Fingal quot said the youth of the streamy Lota quot on Lena's heath I must die foreign bards shall talk of me My broad belt covers my wound of death I give it to the wind quotB
-
The dark blood poured from his side he fell pale on the heath of Lena Fingal bent over him as he died and called his younger chiefs quot Oscar and Fillan my sons raise high the memory of Orla Here let the dark haired hero rest far from the spouse of his love Here let him rest in his narrow house far from the sound of Lota The feeble will find his bow at home but will not be able to bend it His faithful dogs howl on his hills his boars which he used to pursue rejoice Fallen is the arm of battle the mighty among the valiant is low Exalt the voice and blow the horn ye sons of the king of Morven Let us go back to Swaran to send the night away in song Fillan Oscar and Ryno fly over the heath of Lena Where Ryno art thou young son of fame thou art not wont to be the last to answer thy father's voice quotB
-
quot Ryno quot said Ullin first of bards quot is with the awful forms of his fathers With Trathal king of shields with Trenmor of mighty deeds The youth is low the youth is pale he lies on Lena's heath quot quot Fell the swiftest of the race quot said the king quot the first to bend the bow Thou scarce hast been known to me Why did young Ryno fall But sleep thou softB

James Macpherson



Rate:
(1)



Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme

Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation


Write your comment about Fingal - Book V poem by James Macpherson


 

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 4 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Popular Poets