Temora - Book V1 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A B C D C E F G C D H I G J D| ARGUMENT | A |
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| This book opens with a speech of Fingal who sees Cathmor descending to the assistance of his flying army The king despatches Ossian to the relief of Fillan He himself retires behind the rock of Cormul to avoid the sight of the engagement between his son and Cathmor Ossian advances The descent of Cathmor described He rallies the army renews the battle and before Ossian could arrive engages Fillan himself Upon the approach of Ossian the combat between the two heroes ceases Ossian and Cathmor prepare to fight but night coming on pre vents them Ossian returns to the place where Cathmor and Fillan fought He finds Fillan mortally wounded and leaning against a rock Their discourse Fillan dies his body is laid by Ossian in a neighboring cave The Caledonian army return to Fingal He questions them about his son and understanding that he was killed retires in silence to the rock of Cormul Upon the retreat of the army of Fingal the Fir bolg advance Cathmor finds Bran one of the dogs of Fingal lying on the shield of Fillan before the entrance of the cave where the body of that hero lay His reflection thereupon He returns in a melancholy mood to his army Malthos endeavors to comfort him by the example of his father Borbar duthul Cathmor retires to rest The song of Sul malla concludes the book which ends about the middle of the third night from the opening of the poem | B |
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| Cathmor rises on his hill Shall Fingal take the sword of Luna But what shall become of thy fame son of white bosomed Clatho Turn not thine eyes from Fingal fair daughter of Inis tore I shall not quench thy early beam It shines along my soul Rise wood skirted Mora rise between the war and me Why should Fingal behold the strife lest his dark haired warrior should fall Amidst the song O Carril pour the sound of the trembling harp Here are the voices of rocks and there the bright tumbling of waters Father of Oscar lift the spear defend the young in arms Conceal thy steps from Fillan He must not know that I doubt his steel No cloud of mine shall rise my son upon thy soul of fire | C |
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| He sunk behind his rock amid the sound of Carril's song Brightening in my growing soul I took the spear of Temora I saw along Moi lena the wild tumbling of battle the strife of death in gleaming rows disjointed and broken round Fillan is a beam of fire From wing to wing is his wasteful course The ridges of war melt before him They are rolled in smoke from the fields | D |
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| Now is the coming forth of Cathmor in the armor of kings Dark waves the eagle's wing above his helmet of fire Unconcerned are his steps as if they were to the chase of Erin He raises at times his terrible voice Erin abashed gathers round Their souls return back like a stream They wonder at the steps of their fear He rose like the beam of the morning on a haunted heath the traveller looks back with bending eye on the field of dreadful forms Sudden from the rock of Moi lena are Sul malla's trembling steps An oak takes the spear from her hand Half bent she looses the lance But then are her eyes on the king from amid her wandering locks No friendly strife is before thee No light contending of bows as when the youth of Inis huna come forth beneath the eye of Conmor | C |
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| As the rock of Runo which takes the passing clouds as they fly seems growing in gathered darkness over the streamy heath so seems the chief of Atha taller as gather his people around As different blasts fly over the sea each behind its dark blue wave so Cathmor's words on every side pour his warriors forth Nor silent on his hill is Fillan He mixes his words with his echoing shield An eagle be seemed with sounding wings calling the wind to his rock when he sees the coming forth of the roes on Lutha's rushy field | E |
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| Now they bend forward in battle Death's hundred voices arise The kings on either side were like fires on the souls of the host Ossian bounded along High rocks and trees rush tall between the war and me But I hear the noise of steel between my clanging arms Rising gleaming on the hill I behold the backward steps of hosts their backward steps on either side and wildly looking eyes The chiefs were met in dreadful fight The two blue shielded kings Tall and dark through gleams of steel are seen the striving heroes I rush My fears for Fillan fly burning across my soul | F |
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| I come Nor Cathmor flies nor yet comes on he sidelong stalks along An icy rock cold tall he seems I call forth all my steel Silent awhile we stride on either side of a rushing stream then sudden turning all at once we raise our pointed spears We raise our spears but night comes down It is dark and silent round but where the distant steps of hosts are sounding over the heath | G |
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| I come to the place where Fillan fought Nor voice nor sound is there A broken helmet lies on earth a buckler cleft in twain Where Fillan where art thou young chief of echoing Morven He hears me leaning on a rock which bends its gray head over the stream He hears but sullen dark he stands At length I saw the hero | C |
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| Why standest thou robed in darkness son of woody Selma Bright is thy path my brother in this dark brown field Long has been thy strife in battle Now the horn of Fingal is heard Ascend to the cloud of thy father to his hill of feasts In the evening mists he sits and hears the sound of Carril's harp Carry joy to the aged young breaker of the shields | D |
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| Can the vanquished carry joy Ossian no shield is mine It lies broken on the field The eagle wing of my helmet is torn It is when foes fly before them that fathers delight in their sons But their sighs burst forth in secret when their young warriors yield No Fillan shall not behold the king Why should the hero mourn | H |
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| Son of blue eyed Clatho O Fillan awake not my soul Wert thou not a burning fire before him Shall he not rejoice Such fame belongs not to Ossian yet is the king still a sun to me He looks on my steps with joy Shadows never rise on his face Ascend O Fillan to Mora His feast is spread in the folds of mist | I |
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| Ossian give me that broken shield those feathers that are rolled in the wind Place them near to Fillan that less of his fame may fall Ossian I begin to fail Lay me in that hollow rock Raise no stone above lest one should ask about my fame I am fallen in the first of my fields fallen without renown Let thy voice alone send joy to my flying soul Why should the bard know where dwells the lost beam of Clatho | G |
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| Is thy spirit on the eddying winds O Fillan young breaker of shields Joy pursue my hero through his folded clouds The forms of thy fathers O Fillan bend to receive their son I behold the spreading of their fire on Mora the blue rolling of their wreaths Joy meet thee my brother But we are dark and sad I behold the foe round the aged I behold the wasting away of his fame Thou art left alone in the field O gray haired king of Selma | J |
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| I laid him in the hollow rock at the roar of the nightly stream One red star looked in on the hero Winds lift at times his locks I listen No sound is heard The warrior slept as lightning on a cloud a thought came rushing along my soul My eyes roll in fire my stride was in the clang of steel I will find thee king of Erin in the gathering of thy thousands find thee Why should that cloud escape that quenched our early beam Kindle your meteors on your hills my fathers Light my daring steps I will consume in wrath But should not I return The king is without a son gray haired among his foes His arm is not as in the days of old His fame grows dim in Erin Let me not behold him laid low in his latter field But can I return to the king Will he not ask about his son Thou oughtest to defend young Fillan Ossian will meet the foe Green Erin thy sou | D |
James Macpherson
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