 |
|
 |
|
|
 | American poems, selected and original |  |
VERSIFICATION
Of a Passage from the Fifth Book of Ossian's Temora.
BY THE SAME.
The hosts like two black ridges stood,
On either side wild Lubar's stream;
Here Foldath frown'd a darken'd cloud,
There Fillan shone a brightening beam.
On either side wild Lubar's stream;
Here Foldath frown'd a darken'd cloud,
There Fillan shone a brightening beam.
Their long spears glittering in the wave,
Each hero pour'd his voice afar;
Gaul struck the shield, the signal gave,
At once both armies plung'd in war.
Each hero pour'd his voice afar;
Gaul struck the shield, the signal gave,
At once both armies plung'd in war.
256
Steel pour'd its flashing gleam on steel;
The fields two rushing torrents glow,
That whitening foam, in mingled swell,
O'er the dark rock's projecting brow.
The fields two rushing torrents glow,
That whitening foam, in mingled swell,
O'er the dark rock's projecting brow.
He comes, with fame immortal crown'd,
His faulchion lays the heroes low;
Death rides the shadowy blasts around;
Thy paths O Fillan warriors strew!
His faulchion lays the heroes low;
Death rides the shadowy blasts around;
Thy paths O Fillan warriors strew!
Between two rocks in fissures rent,
Brave Rothmar stood, the warrior's pride;
Two aged oaks, that winds had bent,
Their branches spread on either side.
Brave Rothmar stood, the warrior's pride;
Two aged oaks, that winds had bent,
Their branches spread on either side.
Silent he shades his friends in flight,
While his dark eyes on Fillan roll;
Fingal beheld the approaching fight,
And all the father fill'd his soul.
While his dark eyes on Fillan roll;
Fingal beheld the approaching fight,
And all the father fill'd his soul.
As falls the stone of Loda, hurl'd
From trembling Drumanard's high cliff,
When angry spirits rock the world;
So Rothmar fell, blue-shielded chief.
From trembling Drumanard's high cliff,
When angry spirits rock the world;
So Rothmar fell, blue-shielded chief.
Young Culmin's friendly steps are near,
His eye the bursting tear o'erflows;
Wrathful he cuts the empty air,
Ere yet with Fillan's mix his blows.
His eye the bursting tear o'erflows;
Wrathful he cuts the empty air,
Ere yet with Fillan's mix his blows.
He first with Rothmar bent the bow,
Along his own blue-winding streams;
And mark'd the dwelling of the roe,
As shone the fern with morning beams.
Along his own blue-winding streams;
And mark'd the dwelling of the roe,
As shone the fern with morning beams.
257
“Why Youth would'st thou provoke the might
Of that bright beam, that wasting fire?
Unequal were your sires in fight;
Retire, Culalluins's son retire!”
Of that bright beam, that wasting fire?
Unequal were your sires in fight;
Retire, Culalluins's son retire!”
Lone in her hall, his mother casts
Her eyes o'er Strutha's winding streams;
Wrapp'd in a whirlwind's eddying blasts,
Her son's thin spectre faintly gleams.
Her eyes o'er Strutha's winding streams;
Wrapp'd in a whirlwind's eddying blasts,
Her son's thin spectre faintly gleams.
His dogs stand howling on the plain,
Red his suspended shield with gore;
“And is my fair-hair'd hero slain?
Pale does he lie on Ullin's shore?”
Red his suspended shield with gore;
“And is my fair-hair'd hero slain?
Pale does he lie on Ullin's shore?”
As pierc'd in secret lies a hind,
Panting her wonted streams beside;
The hunter views her feet of wind;
Culalluin's son thus Fillan eyed.
Panting her wonted streams beside;
The hunter views her feet of wind;
Culalluin's son thus Fillan eyed.
In a small stream his hair is roll'd,
His blood slow wanders o'er his shield;
Still grasps his hand, with dying hold,
The sword that fail'd in danger's field.
His blood slow wanders o'er his shield;
Still grasps his hand, with dying hold,
The sword that fail'd in danger's field.
“Thou'rt fallen ere thy fame was known,”
Said Fillan, musing o'er the slain;
“Elate, in hopes of thy renown,
Thy father sent thee to the plain.
Said Fillan, musing o'er the slain;
“Elate, in hopes of thy renown,
Thy father sent thee to the plain.
Perhaps, his streams grey bending o'er,
His dim eyes seek thee on the heath;
In vain,—for ah! returns no more,
His son extended pale in death.”
His dim eyes seek thee on the heath;
In vain,—for ah! returns no more,
His son extended pale in death.”
258
Wide o'er the heath, in terror lost,
The flight of Erin Fillan pour'd;
But, man on man, falls Morven's host,
Before the rage of Foldath's sword.
The flight of Erin Fillan pour'd;
But, man on man, falls Morven's host,
Before the rage of Foldath's sword.
Undaunted, Dermid meets his course;
The sons of Cona wake the fight;
But cleft his shield, by Foldath's force,
And far is spread his people's flight.
The sons of Cona wake the fight;
But cleft his shield, by Foldath's force,
And far is spread his people's flight.
The exulting foe with haughty boast,—
“Go Malthos, go to Erin's lord;
And bid him guard blue ocean's coast,
Lest Morven's king escape my sword.
“Go Malthos, go to Erin's lord;
And bid him guard blue ocean's coast,
Lest Morven's king escape my sword.
For cold must Fingal lie in gore,
Near some low fen his tomb shall rise
Without a song, while hovering o'er,
Half hid in mist, his spirit flies.”
Near some low fen his tomb shall rise
Without a song, while hovering o'er,
Half hid in mist, his spirit flies.”
In darkening doubt stood Malthos bold,
He knew the boaster's heart of pride;
Around his gloomy eyes he roll'd,
And plung'd in war with sullen stride.
He knew the boaster's heart of pride;
Around his gloomy eyes he roll'd,
And plung'd in war with sullen stride.
In Clono's narrow vale, two trees
Dark-bending o'er the rolling flood,
Shook their broad branches to the breeze;
There Duthno's son in silence stood.
Dark-bending o'er the rolling flood,
Shook their broad branches to the breeze;
There Duthno's son in silence stood.
The blood is streaming from his thigh;
A rock sustains his ashen spear;
His bossy shield lies broken nigh;
“Why Dermid, why that bursting tear?”
A rock sustains his ashen spear;
His bossy shield lies broken nigh;
“Why Dermid, why that bursting tear?”
259
“I hear the battle roar afar,
Alone my people on the plain;
No shield is mine to stem the war,
And weak and slow my steps of pain.
Alone my people on the plain;
No shield is mine to stem the war,
And weak and slow my steps of pain.
Shall Foldath then prevail in fight?
Ere that in death shall Dermid lie;
Again stern chief I'll prove thy might,
Again thy fiercest rage defy.”
Ere that in death shall Dermid lie;
Again stern chief I'll prove thy might,
Again thy fiercest rage defy.”
He seiz'd his spear the strife to join,
When Morni's son before him stood;
“Stay Dermid stay, no shield is thine,
Thy trembling steps are mark'd with blood.”
When Morni's son before him stood;
“Stay Dermid stay, no shield is thine,
Thy trembling steps are mark'd with blood.”
“Chief of Strumon give thy shield,
Oft has it stemm'd the battle's force;
This arm may yet sustain the field,
May yet repel yon boaster's course.
Oft has it stemm'd the battle's force;
This arm may yet sustain the field,
May yet repel yon boaster's course.
Behold that stone, with moss o'erspread,
Where spires the waving grass so high;
There low a kindred chief is laid—
And there in night let Dermid lie.”
Where spires the waving grass so high;
There low a kindred chief is laid—
And there in night let Dermid lie.”
Slowly he rose the hill's tall brow,
And view'd the troubled field of death;
The gleaming ranks of fight below,
Disjoin'd, and broken o'er the heath.
And view'd the troubled field of death;
The gleaming ranks of fight below,
Disjoin'd, and broken o'er the heath.
As fires at distance, seem by night
Now lost in smoke, in darkness drown'd,
Now rear on high their streams of light,
As cease or blow the winds around;
Now lost in smoke, in darkness drown'd,
Now rear on high their streams of light,
As cease or blow the winds around;
260
So met the battle from afar
Broad-shielded Dermid's eager eye.
Amidst the varying scene of war
The chief of Morna towers on high;
Broad-shielded Dermid's eager eye.
Amidst the varying scene of war
The chief of Morna towers on high;
Like some black ship, in lofty pride,
Dark rider of the billowy plain;
Wide sporting o'er the echoing tide,
When winter rules the stormy main.
Dark rider of the billowy plain;
Wide sporting o'er the echoing tide,
When winter rules the stormy main.
Dermid with rage beheld his course,
He rush'd to meet the gloomy foe;
But fails the wounded hero's force,
And tears of pride his eyes o'erflow.
He rush'd to meet the gloomy foe;
But fails the wounded hero's force,
And tears of pride his eyes o'erflow.
He sounded thrice his bossy shield,
And thrice on Foldath call'd aloud;
Foldath with joy the chief beheld,
And lifted high his spear of blood.
And thrice on Foldath call'd aloud;
Foldath with joy the chief beheld,
And lifted high his spear of blood.
As some vast rock whose rugged side
Is mark'd with streams of many a storm;
So look'd, with wandering blood bedyed
The gloomy chief of Morna's form.
Is mark'd with streams of many a storm;
So look'd, with wandering blood bedyed
The gloomy chief of Morna's form.
Each host, appall'd, in terror flies,
From the contending fierce of Kings.
At once their gleaming points arise,
With speed of lightning Fillan springs.
From the contending fierce of Kings.
At once their gleaming points arise,
With speed of lightning Fillan springs.
The haughty foe, with trembling, view'd,
That dazzling beam of early fame;
That swift, as issuing from a cloud,
To save the wounded hero came.
That dazzling beam of early fame;
That swift, as issuing from a cloud,
To save the wounded hero came.
261
In sounding strife as on the gale
Two broad-wing'd eagles fierce contend;
So, on Moilena's far-spread vale,
The chiefs in gloomy battle bend.
Two broad-wing'd eagles fierce contend;
So, on Moilena's far-spread vale,
The chiefs in gloomy battle bend.
Low on his shield is Foldath laid,
Pierc'd by the youthful hero's spear;
Nor o'er the fallen Fillan staid,
But onward roll'd the storm of war.
Pierc'd by the youthful hero's spear;
Nor o'er the fallen Fillan staid,
But onward roll'd the storm of war.
Malthos beheld the warrior low,
Low laid on Lubar's winding shore;
His bosom melts in generous woe,
And hatred fills his soul no more.
Low laid on Lubar's winding shore;
His bosom melts in generous woe,
And hatred fills his soul no more.
He seem'd a rock, down whose grey sides
The desart waters trickling stray;
When slow the sailing mist divides,
And gives its blasted trees to day.
The desart waters trickling stray;
When slow the sailing mist divides,
And gives its blasted trees to day.
Thus to the dying chief he said,—
“Say shall thy mossy stone ascend,
Where Ullin's dark green hills are spread,
Or Morna's woody vales extend?
“Say shall thy mossy stone ascend,
Where Ullin's dark green hills are spread,
Or Morna's woody vales extend?
There, where the sun looks forth serene,
On blue Dalrutho's bordering glades;
Fair Dardulena's steps are seen,
Thy daughter, pride of Erin's maids.”
On blue Dalrutho's bordering glades;
Fair Dardulena's steps are seen,
Thy daughter, pride of Erin's maids.”
“Rememberest thou,” the chief reply'd,
“The maid, because no son is mine,
To roll the battle's deathful tide,
And in revenge in arms to shine?
“The maid, because no son is mine,
To roll the battle's deathful tide,
And in revenge in arms to shine?
262
I am reveng'd, for not in vain
Has shone the lightning of my spear.
Amidst the tombs of those I've slain
My narrow house, O Malthos! rear.
Has shone the lightning of my spear.
Amidst the tombs of those I've slain
My narrow house, O Malthos! rear.
Oft shall I leave my airy fold,
To hail the spot where low they lie;
When, spread around me, I behold,
The rank grass of their graves on high.”
To hail the spot where low they lie;
When, spread around me, I behold,
The rank grass of their graves on high.”
His spirit rush'd on eddying winds,
And came to Dardulena's dream;
As, wearied with the chace of hinds,
She slept by blue Dulrutho's stream.
And came to Dardulena's dream;
As, wearied with the chace of hinds,
She slept by blue Dulrutho's stream.
Her bow unstrung is near her placed,
The breezes fold her raven hair;
Each charm of youthful beauty graced
The love of chiefs, the blue-eyed fair.
The breezes fold her raven hair;
Each charm of youthful beauty graced
The love of chiefs, the blue-eyed fair.
From the dark skirts of Morna's wood,
Her father's ghost, pale bending, gleam'd;
At times his bloody form he shew'd,
Then hid in shrouding vapors seem'd.
Her father's ghost, pale bending, gleam'd;
At times his bloody form he shew'd,
Then hid in shrouding vapors seem'd.
She rose in tears, her soul divin'd
The chief in death was lowly laid;
To her a beam of light he shin'd.
When folded in his darkest shade.
The chief in death was lowly laid;
To her a beam of light he shin'd.
When folded in his darkest shade.
| American poems, selected and original | |