Poem XIV
Morna, thou fairest of women,daughter of Cormac-Carbre!why in the circle of stones, in the caveof the rock, alone? The stream murmurethhoarsely. The blast groanethin the aged tree. The lake is troubledbefore thee. Dark are the clouds ofthe sky. But thou art like snow onthe heath. Thy hair like a thin cloudof gold on the top of Cromleach. Thybreasts like two smooth rocks on the hillwhich is seen from the stream of Brannuin.Thy arms, as two white pillarsin the hall of Fingal.
Whence the son of Mugruch, Duchommarthe most gloomy of men? Darkare thy brows of terror. Red thy rollingeyes. Does Garve appear on thesea? What of the foe, Duchommar?
From the hill I return, O Morna,from the hill of the flying deer. Threehave I slain with my bow; three withmy panting dogs. Daughter of Cormac-Carbre,I love thee as my soul. Ihave slain a deer for thee. High washis branchy head; and fleet his feet ofwind.
Gloomy son of Mugruch, Duchommar!I love thee not: hard is thy heartof rock; dark thy terrible brow. ButCadmor the son of Tarman, thou artthe love of Morna! thou art like a sunbeamon the hill, in the day of thegloomy storm. Sawest thou the son ofTarman, lovely on the hill of the chace?Here the daughter of Cormac-Carbrewaiteth the coming of Cadmor.
And long shall Morna wait. Hisblood is on my sword. I met him bythe mossy stone, by the oak of the noisystream. He fought; but I slew him;his blood is on my sword. High onthe hill I will raise his tomb, daughterof Cormac-Carbre. But love thou theson of Mugruch; his arm is strong as astorm.
And is the son of Tarman fallen;the youth with the breast of snow! thefirst in the chase of the hill; the foeof the sons of the ocean!--Duchommar,thou art gloomy indeed; cruel isthy arm to me.--But give me thatsword, son of Mugruch; I love theblood of Cadmor.
Daughter of Cormac-Carbre, thouhast pierced Duchommar! the sword iscold in my breast; thou hast killed theson of Mugruch. Give me to Moinicthe maid; for much she loved Duchommar.My tomb she will raise on thehill; the hunter shall see it, and praiseme.--But draw the sword from myside, Morna; I feel it cold.--
Words in this poem
- hoarsely adv.
- With a harsh, grating sound or voice.
- branchy a.
- Full of branches; having wide-spreading branches; consisting of branches.
- sunbeam n.
- A beam or ray of the sun. [AS. sunnebeam.]
- chace v. t.
- To pursue. See Chase v. t.
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Poem XIV is in the public domain. This text is taken from Fragments of Ancient Poetry, Project Gutenberg ebook #8161; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: James Macpherson, Poem XIV, in Fragments of Ancient Poetry (1760), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8161, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/macpherson-ossian/duchommar.html, id L20680.
Form and metre
Poem XIV is 63 lines in 7 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is trochaic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 76%). 91% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.0 syllables. 5 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 71% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in trochaic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 2 A---A duchommarA · dark · rolling · the · duchommarA
- 3 -A--A--- morna · threeA · with · carbre · iA · was · of · wind
- 4 AB-B-----A duchommarA · heartB · but · artB · sunbeam · the · of · chace · carbre · cadmorA
- 5 ------AA- his · by · noisy · him · on · daughter · theA · aA · storm
- 6 -A-B--AB fallen · theA · foe · duchommarB · is · that · theA · cadmorB
- 7 --A--A--- thou · is · theA · moinic · duchommar · theA · praise · my · cold
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against trochaic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Morna, thou fairest of women, | 8 | /˘·/˘·/˘ |
| daughter of Cormac-Carbre! | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| why in the circle of stones, in the cave | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| of the rock, alone? The stream murmureth | 10 | ···˘/··/˘˘ |
| hoarsely. The blast groaneth | 6 | /˘··/˘ |
| in the aged tree. The lake is troubled | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| before thee. Dark are the clouds of | 8 | ········ |
| the sky. But thou art like snow on | 8 | ········ |
| the heath. Thy hair like a thin cloud | 8 | ········ |
| of gold on the top of Cromleach. Thy | 9 | ········· |
| breasts like two smooth rocks on the hill | 8 | ········ |
| which is seen from the stream of Brannuin. | 9 | ········· |
| Thy arms, as two white pillars | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| in the hall of Fingal. | 6 | ······ |
| Whence the son of Mugruch, Duchommar | 9 | ········· |
| the most gloomy of men? Dark | 7 | ··/˘··· |
| are thy brows of terror. Red thy rolling | 10 | ····/˘··/˘ |
| eyes. Does Garve appear on the | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| sea? What of the foe, Duchommar? | 8 | ········ |
| From the hill I return, O Morna, | 9 | ····˘/·/˘ |
| from the hill of the flying deer. Three | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| have I slain with my bow; three with | 8 | ········ |
| my panting dogs. Daughter of Cormac-Carbre, | 10 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘· |
| I love thee as my soul. I | 7 | ······· |
| have slain a deer for thee. High was | 8 | ········ |
| his branchy head; and fleet his feet of | 9 | ·/˘······ |
| wind. | 1 | · |
| Gloomy son of Mugruch, Duchommar! | 9 | /˘······· |
| I love thee not: hard is thy heart | 8 | ········ |
| of rock; dark thy terrible brow. But | 9 | ····/˘˘·· |
| Cadmor the son of Tarman, thou art | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| the love of Morna! thou art like a sunbeam | 11 | ···/˘····/· |
| on the hill, in the day of the | 8 | ········ |
| gloomy storm. Sawest thou the son of | 9 | /˘······· |
| Tarman, lovely on the hill of the chace? | 10 | /˘/˘······ |
| Here the daughter of Cormac-Carbre | 8 | ··/˘·/˘· |
| waiteth the coming of Cadmor. | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| And long shall Morna wait. His | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| blood is on my sword. I met him by | 9 | ········· |
| the mossy stone, by the oak of the noisy | 11 | ·/˘······/˘ |
| stream. He fought; but I slew him; | 7 | ······· |
| his blood is on my sword. High on | 8 | ········ |
| the hill I will raise his tomb, daughter | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| of Cormac-Carbre. But love thou the | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| son of Mugruch; his arm is strong as a | 10 | ·········· |
| storm. | 1 | · |
| And is the son of Tarman fallen; | 9 | ·····/˘/˘ |
| the youth with the breast of snow! the | 8 | ········ |
| first in the chase of the hill; the foe | 9 | ········· |
| of the sons of the ocean!--Duchommar, | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| thou art gloomy indeed; cruel is | 9 | ··/˘˘//˘· |
| thy arm to me.--But give me that | 8 | ········ |
| sword, son of Mugruch; I love the | 8 | ········ |
| blood of Cadmor. | 4 | ···· |
| Daughter of Cormac-Carbre, thou | 7 | /˘·/˘·· |
| hast pierced Duchommar! the sword is | 8 | ········ |
| cold in my breast; thou hast killed the | 8 | ········ |
| son of Mugruch. Give me to Moinic | 9 | ········· |
| the maid; for much she loved Duchommar. | 9 | ········· |
| My tomb she will raise on the | 7 | ······· |
| hill; the hunter shall see it, and praise | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| me.--But draw the sword from my | 7 | ······· |
| side, Morna; I feel it cold.-- | 7 | ·/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.