Temora - Book Viii Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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

ARGUMENTA
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The fourth morning from the opening of the poem comes on Fingal still continuing in the place to which he had retired on the preceding sight is seen at intervals through the mist which covered the rock of Cormul The descent of the king is described He orders Gaul Dermid and Carril the bard to go to the valley of China and conduct from thence the Caledonian army Ferad artho the son of Cairbar the only person remaining of the family of Conar the first king of Ireland The king makes the command of the army and prepares for battle Marching towards the enemy he comes to the cave of Lubar where the body of Fillan lay Upon seeing his dog Bran who lay at the entrance of the cave his grief returns Cathmor arranges the Irish army in order of battle The appearance of that hero The general conflict is described The actions of Fingal and Cathmor A storm The total rout of the Fir bolg The two kings engage in a column of mist on the banks of Lubar Their attitude and conference after the combat The death of Cathmor Fingal resigns the spear of Trenmor to Ossian The ceremonies observed on that occasion The spirit of Cathmor in the mean time appears to Sul malla in the valley of Lona Her sorrow Evening comes on A feast is prepared The coming of Ferad artho is announced by the songs of a hundred bards The poem closes with a speech of FingalB
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As when the wintry winds have seized the waves of the mountain lake have seized them in stormy night and clothed them over with ice white to the hunter's early eye the billows still seem to roll He turns his ear to the sound of each unequal ridge But each is silent gleaming strewn with boughs and tufts of grass which shake and whistle to the wind over their gray seats of frost So silent shone to the morning the ridges of Morven's host as each warrior looked up from his helmet towards the hill of the king the cloud covered hill of Fingal where he strode in the folds of mist At times is the hero seen greatly dim in all his arms From thought to thought tolled the war along his mighty soulB
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Now is the coming forth of the king First appeared the sword of Luno the spear half issuing from a cloud the shield still dim in mist But when the stride of the king came abroad with all his gray dewy locks in the wind then rose the shouts of his host over every moving tribe They gathered gleaming round with all their echoing shields So rise the green seas round a spirit that comes down from the squally wind The traveller hears the sound afar and lifts his head over the rock He looks on the troubled bay and thinks he dimly sees the form The waves sport unwieldy round with all their backs of foamC
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Far distant stood the son of Morni Duthno's race and Cona's bard We stood far distant each beneath his tree We shunned the eyes of the king we had not conquered in the field A little stream rolled at my feet I touched its light wave with my spear I touched it with my spear nor there was the soul of Ossian It darkly rose from thought to thought and sent abroad the sighD
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Son of Morni said the king Dermid hunter of roes why are ye dark like two rocks each with its trickling waters No wrath gathers on Fingal's soul against the chiefs of men Ye are my strength in battle the kindling of my joy in peace My early voice has been a pleasant gale to your years when Fillan prepared the bow The son of Fingal is not here nor yet the chase of the bounding roes But why should the breakers of shields stand darkened far wayE
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Tall they strode towards the king they saw him turned to Morn's wind His tears came down for his blue eyed son no slept in the cave of streams But he brightened before them and spoke to the broad shielded kingsF
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Crommal with woody rocks and misty top the field of winds pours forth to the sight blue Lubar's streamy roar Behind it rolls clear winding Lavath in the still vale of deer A cave is dark in a rock above it strong winged eagles dwell broad headed oaks before it sound in Cluna's wind Within in his locks of youth is Ferad artho blue eyed king the son of broad shielded Cairbar from Ullin of the roes He listens to the voice of Condan as gray he bends in feeble light He listens for his foes dwell in the echoing halls of Temora He comes at times abroad in the skirts of mist to pierce the bounding roes When the sun looks on the field nor by the rock nor stream is he He shuns the race of Bolga who dwell in his father's hall Tell him that Fingal lifts the spear and that his foes perhaps may failB
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Lift up O Gaul the shield before him Stretch Dermid Temora's spear Be thy voice in his ear O Carril with the deeds of his fathers Lead him to green Moi lena to the dusky field of ghosts for there I fall forward in battle in the folds of war Before dun night descends come to high Dunmora's top Look from the gray skirts of mist on Lena of the streams If there my standard shall float on wind over Lubar's gleaming stream then has not Fingal failed in the last of his fieldsG
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Such were his words nor aught replied the silent striding kings They looked sidelong on Erin's host and darkened as they went Never before had they left the king in the midst of the stormy field Behind them touching at times his harp the gray haired Carril moved He foresaw the fall of the people and mournful was the sound It was like a breeze that comes by fits over Lego's reedy lake when sleep half descends on the hunter within his mossy caveH
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Why bends the bard of Cona said Fingal over his secret stream Is this a time for sorrow father of low laid Oscar Be the warriors remembered in peace when echoing shields are heard no more Bend then in grief over the flood where blows the mountain breeze Let them pass on thy soul the blue eyed dwellers of the tomb But Erin rolls to war wide tumbling rough aid dark Lift Ossian lift the shield I am alone my sonI
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As comes the sudden voice of winds to the becalmed ship of Inis huna and drives it large along the deep dark rider of the wave so the voice of Fingal sent Ossian tall along the heath He lifted high his shining shield in the dusky wing of war like the broad blank moon in the skirt of a cloud before the storms ariseJ
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Loud from moss covered Mora poured down at once the broad winged war Fingal led his people forth king of Morven of streams On high spreads the eagle's wing His gray hair is poured on his shoulders broad In thunder are his mighty strides He often stood and saw behind the wide gleaming rolling of armor A rock he seemed gray over with ice whose woods are high in wind Bright streams leapt from its head and spread their foam on blastsK
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Now he came to Lubar's cave where Fillan darkly slept Bran still lay on the broken shield the eagle wing is strewed by the winds Bright from withered furze looked forth the hero's spear Then grief stirred the soul of the king like whirlwinds blackening on a lake He turned his sudden step and leaned on his bending spearL
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White breasted Bran came bounding with joy to the known path of Fingal He came and looked towards the cave where the blue eyed hunter lay for he was wont to stride with morning to the dewy bed of the roe It was then the tears of the king came down and all his soul was dark But as the rising wind rolls away the storm of rain and leaves the white streams to the sun and high hills with their heads of grass so the returning war brightened the mind of Fingal He bounded on his spear over Lubar and struck his echoing shield His ridgy host bend forward at once with all their pointed steelB
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Nor Erin heard with fear the sound wide they come rolling along Dark Malthos in the wing of war looks forward from shaggy brows Next rose that beam of light Hidalla then the sidelong lookingM

James Macpherson



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