Oina-morul Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B C D E F A G H I J K

After an address to Malvina the daughter of Toscar Ossian proceeds to relate his own expedition to Fu rfed an island of Scandinavia Mal orchol king of Fu rfed being hard pressed in war by Ton thormod chief of Sar dronto who had demanded in vain the daughter of Mal orchol in marriage Fingal sent Ossian to his aid Ossian on the day after his arrival came to battle with Ton thormod and took him prisoner Mal orchol offers his daughter Oina morul to Ossian but he discovering her passion for Ton thormod generously surrenders her to her lover and brings about a reconciliation between the two kingsA
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As flies the inconstant sun over Larmon's grassy hill so pass the tales of old along my soul by night When bards are removed to their place when harps are hung in Selma's hall then comes a voice to Ossian and awakes his soul It is the voice of years that are gone they roll before me with all their deeds I seize the tales as they pass and pour them forth in song Nor a troubled stream is the song of the king it is like the rising of music from Lutha of the strings Lutha of many strings not silent are thy streamy rocks when the white hands of Malvina move upon the harp Light of the shadowy thoughts that fly across my soul daughter of Toscar of helmets wilt thou not hear the song We call back maid of Lutha the years that have rolled away It was in the days of the king while yet my locks were young that I marked Con cathlin on high from ocean's nightly wave My course was towards the isle of Fu rfed woody dweller of seas Fingal had sent me to the aid Mal orchol king of Fu rfed wild for war was around him and our fathers had met at the feastB
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In Col coiled I bound my sails I sent my sword to Mal orchol of shells He knew the signal of Albion and his joy arose He came from his own high hall and seized my hand in grief Why comes the race of heroes to a falling king Ton thormod of many spears is the chief of wavy Sar dronlo He saw and loved my daughter white bosomed Oina morul He sought I denied the maid for our fathers had been foes He came with battle to Fu rfed my people are rolled away Why comes the race of heroes to a falling kingC
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I come not I said to look like a boy on the strife Fingal remembers Mal orchol and his hall for strangers From his waves the warrior descended on thy woody isle thou wert no cloud before him Thy feast was spread with songs For this my sword shall rise and thy foes perhaps may fail Our friends are not forgot in their danger though distant is our landD
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Descendant of the daring Trenmor thy words are like the voice of Cruth Loda when he speaks from his parting cloud strong dweller of the sky Many have rejoiced at my feast but they all have forgot Mal orchol I have looked towards all the winds but no white sails were seen but steel resounds in my hall and not the joyful shells Come to my dwelling race of heroes dark skirted night is near Hear the voice of songs from the maid of Fu rfed wildE
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We went On the harp arose the white hands of Oina morul She waked her own sad tale from every trembling string I stood in silence for bright in her locks was the daughter of many isles Her eyes were two stars looking forward through a rushing shower The mariner marks them on high and blesses the lovely beams With morning we rushed to battle to Tormul's resounding stream the foe moved to the sound of Ton thormod's bossy shield From wing to wing the strife was mixed I met Ton thormod in fight Wide flew his broken steel I seized the king in war I gave his hand fast bound with thongs to Mal orchol the giver of shells Joy rose at the feast of Fu rfed for the foe had failed Ton thormod turned his face away from Oina morul of islesF
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Son of Fingal began Mal orchol not forgot shalt thou pass from me A light shall dwell in thy ship Oina morul of slow rolling eyes She shall kindle gladness along thy mighty soul Nor unheeded shall the maid move in Selma through the dwelling of kingsA
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In the hall I lay in night Mine eyes were half closed in sleep Soft music came to mine ear It was like the rising breeze that whirls at first the thistle's beard then flies dark shadowy over the grass It was the maid of Fu rfed wild she raised the nightly song she knew that my soul was a stream that flowed at pleasant sounds Who looks she said from his rock on ocean's closing mist His long locks like the raven's wing are wandering on the blast Stately are his steps in grief The tears are in his eyes His manly breast is heaving over his bursting soul Retire I am distant afar a wanderer in lands unknown Though the race of kings are around me yet my soul is dark Why have our fathers been foes Ton thormod love of maidsG
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Soft voice of the streamy isle I said why dost thou mourn by night The race of daring Trenmor are not the dark in soul Thou shalt not wander by streams unknown blue eyed Oina morul within this bosom is a voice it comes not to other ears it bids Ossian hear the hapless in their hour of woe Retire soft singer by night Ton thormod shall not mourn on his rockH
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With morning I loosed the king I gave the long haired maid Mal orchol heard my words in the midst of his echoing halls King of Fu rfed wild why should Ton thormod mourn He is of the race of heroes and a flame in war Your fathers have been foes but now their dim ghosts rejoice in death They stretch their hands of mist to the same shell in Loda Forget their rage ye warriors It was the cloud of other yearsI
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Such were the deeds of Ossian while yet his locks were young though loveliness with a robe of beams clothed the daughter of many isles We call back of Lutha the years that have rolled awayJ
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Con cathlin mild beam of the wave What star was so called of old is not easily ascertained Some now distinguish the pole star by that nameK

James Macpherson



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