Poem IX
Thou askest, fair daughter of theisles! whose memory is preservedin these tombs? The memory of Ronnanthe bold, and Connan the chief ofmen; and of her, the fairest of maids,Rivine the lovely and the good. Thewing of time is laden with care. Everymoment hath woes of its own. Whyseek we our grief from afar? or give ourtears to those of other times? But thoucommanded, and I obey, O fair daughterof the isles!
Conar was mighty in war. Caulwas the friend of strangers. His gateswere open to all; midnight darkenednot on his barred door. Both lived uponthe sons of the mountains. Their bowwas the support of the poor.
Connan was the image of Conar'ssoul. Caul was renewed in Ronnan hisson. Rivine the daughter of Conar wasthe love of Ronnan; her brother Connanwas his friend. She was fair as theharvest-moon setting in the seas ofMolochasquir. Her soul was settled onRonnan; the youth was the dream of hernights.
Rivine, my love! says Ronnan, I goto my king in Norway. A year anda day shall bring me back. Wilt thoube true to Ronnan?
Ronnan! a year and a day I willspend in sorrow. Ronnan, behave likea man, and my soul shall exult in thyvalour. Connan my friend, says Ronnan,wilt thou preserve Rivine thy sister?Durstan is in love with the maid;and soon shall the sea bring the strangerto our coast.
Ronnan, I will defend: Do thousecurely go.--He went. He returnedon his day. But Durstan returnedbefore him.
Give me thy daughter, Conar, saysDurstan; or fear and feel my power.
He who dares attempt my sister, saysConnan, must meet this edge of steel.Unerring in battle is my arm: mysword, as the lightning of heaven.
But, saith Euran the servant ofgold, Ronnan! by the gate of the northshall Durstan this night carry thy fair-oneaway. Accursed, answers Ronnan, be this arm if death meet him notthere.
Connan! saith Euran, this nightshall the stranger carry thy sister away.My sword shall meet him, replies Connan,and he shall lie low on earth.
The friends met by night, and theyfought. Blood and sweat ran downtheir limbs as water on the mossy rock.Connan falls; and cries, O Durstan,be favourable to Rivine!--And is it myfriend, cries Ronnan, I have slain? OConnan! I knew thee not.
He went, and he fought with Durstan.Day began to rise on the combat,when fainting they fell, and expired.Rivine came out with the morn;and--O what detains my Ronnan!--She saw him lying pale in his blood;and her brother lying pale by his side.
What could she say: what could shedo? her complaints were many and vain.She opened this grave for the warriours;and fell into it herself, before itwas closed; like the sun snatched awayin a storm.
Thou hast heard this tale of grief,O fair daughter of the isles! Rivine wasfair as thyself: shed on her grave atear.
Words in this poem
- afar adv.
- At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
- 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,]
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- unerring a.
- Committing no mistake; incapable or error or failure certain; sure; unfailing; as, the unerring wisdom of God.
- saith
- 3d pers. sing. pres. of Say.
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- hast
- , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Poem IX 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 IX, in Fragments of Ancient Poetry (1760), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #8161, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/macpherson-ossian/poem-ix.html, id L09648.
Form and metre
Poem IX is 82 lines in 14 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 72%). 93% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 12 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 61% 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.
- 1 A----A------ theA · preserved · ronnan · of · maids · theA · every · why · our · thou · daughter · isles
- 3 ---A--A-- conar's · his · was · connanA · the · of · onA · her · nights
- 6 -AA- thou · returnedA · returnedA · him
- 12 A---A-- durstanA · combat · expired · morn · ronnanA · blood · side
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 |
|---|---|---|
| Thou askest, fair daughter of the | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| isles! whose memory is preserved | 8 | ··/˘˘·˘/ |
| in these tombs? The memory of Ronnan | 10 | ····/˘˘··· |
| the bold, and Connan the chief of | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| men; and of her, the fairest of maids, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Rivine the lovely and the good. The | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| wing of time is laden with care. Every | 11 | ····/˘··/˘˘ |
| moment hath woes of its own. Why | 8 | /˘······ |
| seek we our grief from afar? or give our | 12 | ··/˘··˘/··/˘ |
| tears to those of other times? But thou | 9 | ····/˘··· |
| commanded, and I obey, O fair daughter | 11 | ˘/˘··˘/··/˘ |
| of the isles! | 3 | ··· |
| Conar was mighty in war. Caul | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| was the friend of strangers. His gates | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| were open to all; midnight darkened | 9 | ·/˘··/·/˘ |
| not on his barred door. Both lived upon | 9 | ········· |
| the sons of the mountains. Their bow | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| was the support of the poor. | 7 | ··˘/··· |
| Connan was the image of Conar's | 9 | /˘··/˘··· |
| soul. Caul was renewed in Ronnan his | 9 | ···˘/···· |
| son. Rivine the daughter of Conar was | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| the love of Ronnan; her brother Connan | 10 | ······/˘/˘ |
| was his friend. She was fair as the | 8 | ········ |
| harvest-moon setting in the seas of | 9 | /˘·/˘···· |
| Molochasquir. Her soul was settled on | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| Ronnan; the youth was the dream of her | 9 | ········· |
| nights. | 1 | · |
| Rivine, my love! says Ronnan, I go | 9 | ········· |
| to my king in Norway. A year and | 9 | ····/···· |
| a day shall bring me back. Wilt thou | 8 | ········ |
| be true to Ronnan? | 5 | ····· |
| Ronnan! a year and a day I will | 9 | ········· |
| spend in sorrow. Ronnan, behave like | 9 | ··/˘··˘/· |
| a man, and my soul shall exult in thy | 10 | ······˘/·· |
| valour. Connan my friend, says Ronnan, | 9 | /˘/˘····· |
| wilt thou preserve Rivine thy sister? | 9 | ··˘/···/˘ |
| Durstan is in love with the maid; | 8 | ········ |
| and soon shall the sea bring the stranger | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| to our coast. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Ronnan, I will defend: Do thou | 8 | ····˘/·· |
| securely go.--He went. He returned | 9 | ˘/˘····˘/ |
| on his day. But Durstan returned | 8 | ······˘/ |
| before him. | 3 | ··· |
| Give me thy daughter, Conar, says | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Durstan; or fear and feel my power. | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| He who dares attempt my sister, says | 9 | ···˘/·/˘· |
| Connan, must meet this edge of steel. | 8 | /˘······ |
| Unerring in battle is my arm: my | 10 | ˘/˘·/˘···· |
| sword, as the lightning of heaven. | 8 | ···/˘·/˘ |
| But, saith Euran the servant of | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| gold, Ronnan! by the gate of the north | 9 | ········· |
| shall Durstan this night carry thy fair-one | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| away. Accursed, answers Ronnan, be this arm if death meet him not | 16 | ˘/··/˘·········· |
| there. | 1 | · |
| Connan! saith Euran, this night | 7 | /˘····· |
| shall the stranger carry thy sister away. | 11 | ··/˘/˘·/˘˘/ |
| My sword shall meet him, replies Connan, | 9 | ·····˘//˘ |
| and he shall lie low on earth. | 7 | ······· |
| The friends met by night, and they | 7 | ······· |
| fought. Blood and sweat ran down | 6 | ······ |
| their limbs as water on the mossy rock. | 10 | ···/˘··/˘· |
| Connan falls; and cries, O Durstan, | 8 | /˘······ |
| be favourable to Rivine!--And is it my | 12 | ············ |
| friend, cries Ronnan, I have slain? O | 8 | ········ |
| Connan! I knew thee not. | 6 | /˘···· |
| He went, and he fought with Durstan. | 8 | ········ |
| Day began to rise on the combat, | 9 | ·˘/····/˘ |
| when fainting they fell, and expired. | 8 | ·/˘···˘/ |
| Rivine came out with the morn; | 7 | ······· |
| and--O what detains my Ronnan! | 8 | ···˘/··· |
| --She saw him lying pale in his blood; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| and her brother lying pale by his side. | 10 | ··/˘/˘···· |
| What could she say: what could she | 7 | ······· |
| do? her complaints were many and vain. | 9 | ··˘/·/˘·· |
| She opened this grave for the warriours; | 10 | ·/˘····/˘˘ |
| and fell into it herself, before it | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| was closed; like the sun snatched away | 8 | ······˘/ |
| in a storm. | 3 | ··· |
| Thou hast heard this tale of grief, | 7 | ······· |
| O fair daughter of the isles! Rivine was | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| fair as thyself: shed on her grave a | 9 | ··˘/····· |
| tear. | 1 | · |
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