BOUGHT FROM 
 MULHERN DONATION 
 
B L A N I D. 
 
B L A N I D. 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT D. JOYCE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " DKIRDRE." 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 1879. 
 
Copyright, 1879, 
 BY ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS i 
 Jons WILSON AND SON. CAMBRIDGE. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA 13 
 
 THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN 5 1 
 
 THE TAKING OF MANA 105 
 
 THE TEARS OF BLANID 143 
 
 THE HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA .... 164 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS 203 
 
 THE SLAYING OF CUROI AND THE REVENGE OF HIS 
 
 MINSTREL 226 
 
 933451 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 "OLANID (THE BLOSSOM-BRIGHT), daughter of the 
 King of the Isle of Man, is sought in marriage by 
 the princes .of Western Europe. She refuses them all. 
 At length she falls in love with Cuhullin, the son of her 
 father s most powerful enemy. The princes form a league 
 to win her, and gathering their fleets, sail to Dun Dalgan, 
 where they elect Cuhullin leader of the expedition. They 
 besiege and sack the stronghold of Mana. At the dis 
 tribution of the spoils, Blanid, by a stratagem, is won and 
 taken away by Curoi, prince of South Munster. Cuhullin 
 pursues Curoi, and overtakes him at the foot of the 
 Mountains of Blama, where they fight for the possession 
 of Blanid. Cuhullin is vanquished, and Curoi bears 
 Blanid away in triumph to the south. After some time 
 the lovers meet again, and with the help of Blanid s 
 
8 ARGUMENT. 
 
 foster-mother make a plot for the slaying of Curoi, which 
 is done on the night of the Feast of Samhain, and Blanid 
 is borne away to Eman by Cuhullin. Curoi s minstrel 
 follows them, and at the hunting feast of Rincan-Beara 
 dashes down his harp, seizes Blanid, and throws himself 
 with her over the verge of the great rock into the sea 
 beneath, where they are lost for ever. 
 
THO U, to come, though yet perchance unborn, 
 
 My country s Poet, prince of bards, sublime 
 Mongst those -who in the Future s gleaming morn 
 Will make great music, in thy manhood > prime 
 And day of fame remember me, and climb 
 My Hill of Rest, and take thy musing way 
 
 Unto the place of tombs, and with sweet rhyme 
 Stand thou beside my headstone lone and gray, 
 And strike thy sounding harp and sing no little lay ! 
 
 For lam of the race of those longsyne 
 
 The makers of heroic minstrelsy, 
 Though oft in youth, caught in his silken twine, 
 
 I sang of Love, to lay and melody ^ 
 
 Made by the ancient bards of high degree, 
 Or rustic singers of the lowly cot, 
 
 And many a thorny path I ve cleared for thee, 
 And sowed some seeds in many a hidden spot 
 That bloom a little now where flowers of song were 
 not I 
 
I0 PROEM. 
 
 Though many a Jldd I ve searched of foreign lore 
 
 And found great themes for song, yet ne er would I 
 Seek Greece, or Araby, or Persia s shore 
 
 Por heroes and the deeds of days gone by ; 
 
 To my own native land my heart would fly, 
 Howc cr my fancy wandered, and I gave 
 
 My thoughts to her and to the heroes high 
 She nursed in ages gone, and strove to save 
 Some memory of their deeds from dark oblivious 
 wave ! 
 
 And not for gold I sang, nor foolish greed 
 
 With easy steps to reach Fame s hallowed ground j 
 
 For love of Song I piped my sylvan reed, 
 And sometimes too essayed a bolder sound 
 To wake men s souls to nobleness, and found 
 
 Each effort to my heart new guerdons bring, 
 
 And though few laurels wrcathl my temples round, 
 
 Jlfy task is wrought in stirring even the string 
 
 Of the bright harp that yet beneath thy touch shall 
 ring I 
 
PROEM. 1 1 
 
 In this some bloom of Fancy may st thoufind: 
 Heroes and heroines from the dusky haze 
 
 Of Eld I ve catted, and limned them, heart and mind, 
 As best I could, in all their thoughts and ways 
 Of love and war; and if it win thy praise 
 
 And thy approving smile, I ask no more 
 
 Than this, to add one green leaf to the bays 
 
 In learning and in song my country wore 
 When all the world was dark, save her, in days of 
 yore ! 
 
BLANID. 
 
 THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 
 
 TN Mana of the Sea there reigned a king 
 Far famed for valor and for treasures rare 
 
 Of gems and gold and many a precious thing 
 Bright as the stars in frosty midnight air ; 
 
 One daughter dear he had, within the ring 
 Of the round world the fairest of the fair, 
 
 And through the lands the loud-tongued wind of 
 fame 
 
 Blew far and near the bloom-bright Blanid s name. 
 
I 4 BLANID. 
 
 As in some regal garden a young rose 
 
 Buds into bloom neath fostering sun and 
 . . nvind, 
 
 "And each .successive day new beauty shows 
 ."*:" : (;>He a*f or stem beyond its lovely kind, 
 
 Till in the summer s midst it smiles and glows 
 
 Fairest of all with pearly dews refined, 
 So grew that lady peerless, pure and good, 
 To the first morn of perfect womanhood. 
 
 And many a lay the wandering minstrels made 
 To the bright beauty of that Flower of flowers, 
 
 From Eman s hall and Tara s laurel shade 
 To Gwydilod and high Tintagel s bowers ; 
 
 From Gallia s shores by ocean broad embayed, 
 To the bleak isles where misty Coolin 
 towers, 
 
 Her praises spread from eager land to land, 
 
 By the strong wind of fame for ever fanned. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 15 
 
 And men of high renown, the bold and brave, 
 Who ne er before felt love illume their breasts, 
 
 Strove for the right with splintering lance and glaive 
 To wear her joyful colors on their crests ; 
 
 Poet and mighty prince and lord and slave 
 
 Spoke of her, great kings sought her hand, and 
 quests 
 
 By knights forlorn for her were underta en 
 
 To take her from her sire, but all in vain. 
 
 And though a quest of danger and of dread, 
 
 Thick thronged the knights on it, as summer 
 bees 
 
 Swarm round a hive in thousands ; many a head 
 Grinned ghastly o er her father s gate of these 
 
 Misguided champions valorous, fancy-led, 
 Who to Green Mana came across the seas, 
 
 Feeding their hearts with vain hopes all the while 
 
 To win that far-famed maid by force or guile ! 
 
BLANID. 
 
 Yet on those days when in his kingly hall 
 
 Her father held high court, and strangers came 
 
 From the earth s farthest ridge remote, and all 
 Sunned themselves in the smiles of that fair 
 dame, 
 
 On prince and knight and squire, on great and small, 
 Her glorious eyes beamed unimpassioned flame, 
 
 As though her maiden heart could ne er respond 
 
 To the soft touch of love s enchanted wand. 
 
 For, as the crystal well whose bosom sheen 
 Sparkled within her garden of delight, 
 
 And mirrored all the flowers and leaves of green 
 And sun by day and moon and stars by 
 night, 
 
 But kept no image there, her heart serene 
 Took all impressions, sorrowful or bright, 
 
 With care unclouded and with love unwarm, 
 
 And treasured in its depths no hallowed form. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 17 
 
 But every heart hath its appointed hour 
 To wake to love s immortal joy or pain, 
 
 To feel through every nerve the tyrant s power, 
 And weep or laugh with gladness neath his 
 reign. 
 
 It chanced upon a day to Blanid s bower 
 Uprode her sire with all his sylvan train, 
 
 And called her forth, with hounds and huntsmen bold 
 
 To chase the wild deer in the summer wold. 
 
 Fair as the moon and her attendant throng 
 Of glittering stars in heaven s blue firmament, 
 
 To sounds of huntsman s horn and minstrel s song 
 With her fair maids around her forth she went : 
 
 Then spread the many-voiced chase along 
 
 The dales, the woods, the wind-waved mountain 
 bent, 
 
 Like a gay streamer of the northern sky, 
 
 Sparkling and shifting till the noon drew nigh. 
 
BLANID. 
 
 Then reined she up her steed where rose the tune 
 Of merry birds half mad with summer glee, 
 
 In a lone hollow that with answering croon 
 
 Of murmuring leaves and winds sang joyously : 
 
 Below her in the lake the sky of noon 
 
 Was mirrored, and beside her many a tree 
 
 Gleamed bright with fragrant blooms, and singing 
 rills 
 
 Shot down in music from the shadowy hills. 
 
 Behind her, grim to heaven a moorland faced, 
 Home of great boars, and huge primeval kine 
 
 Whose savage bulls loud bellowing shook the 
 
 waste 
 At blink of early, morn or day s decline : 
 
 Up from its midst, with wizard woods embraced 
 Of giant oak and strong sky-towering pine, 
 
 A dark hill with a bleached and barren skull 
 
 Towered o er that region weird and wonderful. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 19 
 
 Now, from beneath that hill, upon the breeze 
 Sudden the clamor rose of hounds and horn, 
 
 Then came a bellowing sound that shook the trees, 
 As shakes a summer gust the shivering corn. 
 
 Trembling young Blanid looks ; anon she sees, 
 With earth-consuming strength of fury born, 
 
 A mighty bull come thundering through the 
 brakes, 
 
 Showering the moss behind in skyward flakes ! 
 
 Onward he came with speed like the wild wrack 
 Of clouds pursued by tempests in their ire, 
 
 White foam-flakes on his brindled sides and back, 
 Flames darting from his burning eyeballs dire, 
 
 Two fierce hounds and a bold knight on his track, 
 A knight whose javelin flashed like azure fire, 
 
 Whose harness gleamed, whose horse outstripped 
 the blast 
 
 In Barna s wood, spurring behind him fast ! 
 
20 BLAN1D. 
 
 Trembling bright Blanid sat, without essay 
 From that fell spot of peril forth to go, 
 
 As one who from the vale, when suns of May 
 Put forth their strength on Pyrenean snow, 
 
 Sees o er him th avalanche its power display, 
 And, dazed with danger, waits for death be 
 low, 
 
 Unknowing what to do, so sat the maid 
 
 On her gay palfrey in that hollow glade ! 
 
 On came the wrathful bull with tenfold wrath 
 At sight of her rich robe of many dyes, 
 
 Fast spurred the noble knight beside his path, 
 With well-poised form and valor-sparkling eyes ; 
 
 In his right hand the javelin as a lath 
 Quivers, then like a lightning flash it flies 
 
 Forward shrill hissing, riving its red way 
 
 Deep through the great heart of its giant 
 prey! 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 2 I 
 
 As when an earthquake shakes the solid ground 
 From caverns deep where fires infernal burn, 
 
 From its high station on some lofty mound 
 A huge rock falls and shakes the earth in turn, 
 
 The forest trembles to its utmost bound, 
 
 Back the lake s gorge the waters choke and 
 churn, 
 
 So fell that mighty bull beside the shore 
 
 .With deafening shock and loud rebellowed roar. 
 
 And as some lovely flower that all day long 
 Laughing in air and sun the hours did pass, 
 
 Torn from its bed the green mound s blooms 
 
 among, 
 Now helpless withers by the fallen mass, 
 
 So Blanid, from her frightened palfrey flung 
 Lies still upon the blossom-jewelled grass, 
 
 No little page anigh, or tearful maid, 
 
 With pitying hands to raise her lovely head. 
 
22 BLANID. 
 
 But he was there, that hunter beautiful, 
 
 Cuhullin, Eman s noblest Red Branch Knight ; 
 
 He raised her gently up, and in the lull 
 
 Of her short swoon kissed face and forehead bright, 
 
 Kissed golden hair and eyes no longer dull, 
 
 For love s first touch brought back their sweetest 
 light, 
 
 And half-shed tears and smiles, and blushes too 
 
 Unto her cheeks like the red rose s hue. 
 
 He looked on her and found her radiant face 
 Beautiful beyond all his heart could dream, 
 
 She looked on him with sweet and modest grace, 
 And blushed and looked once more. The love 
 supreme 
 
 That years of joy nor misery, time nor place, 
 Could change, awoke with its immortal gleam, 
 
 And stirred each young heart to its inmost nook, 
 
 And lightened in each eye and smile and look. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 23 
 
 Of danger or of time they take no heed 
 
 Till round the lake sweet echoes roll and run, 
 
 And up the forest path at topmost speed 
 
 Come the gay courtiers spurring one by one : 
 
 Fondly he kissed her, light sprang on his steed 
 And through the wildwood vanished ; wind and 
 sun 
 
 Played as he went upon his face and hair, 
 
 Making strange gleams of wondrous glory there. 
 
 Then sat she brooding for a little time 
 
 Amidst the grass and fragrant blossoms gay 
 
 Of the sweet place : the merry wild-birds chime 
 She heard not, heeded not the flowers display 
 
 Of beauty all around : then did she climb 
 Into her golden selle, and rode away 
 
 Silent and very glad, till with surprise 
 
 Her maid saw love s first brightness in her 
 eyes. 
 
BLANID. 
 
 And he : across the stream and through the wood 
 With lightsome heart he went, and neath the shade 
 
 Sped downward hopefully, till, where the flood, 
 Enlarged by many streamlets, tumbling made 
 
 Down a steep precipice in merry mood 
 
 Its path of silver foam, his course he stayed 
 
 Nigh the cliff s foot, beneath an oak whose head 
 
 O er flowers innumerous and sweet grasses spread. 
 
 For in the midst of a small mead it grew, 
 
 Where the bright Goddess, Aine, Queen of 
 Flowers, 
 
 Delighted with its pleasures, thither drew 
 
 Sweet winds, warm beams and soft, life-giving 
 
 showers : 
 
 * 
 
 There all the lovely blooms that ever knew 
 
 The airs of springtide or the summer hours 
 Showed themselves to the butterflies and bees, 
 And glad birds singing o er them in the trees. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 2 $ 
 
 Around the fragrant place high cliffs arose 
 Save where the path led downward by the fall 
 
 Of the sweet murmuring stream, and where in 
 
 throes 
 Of elfin laughter o er a mossy wall 
 
 Of rock^it left the mead to its repose, 
 
 Far wandering seaward through the forest tall, 
 
 Where ringdoves cooed to it and larks sang o er, 
 
 And many a bank of foxglove decked its shore. 
 
 Here while his horse grazed on the grassy bank, 
 And while his hounds slept by him, he lay 
 down 
 
 On the fresh-smelling sward and sweetly drank 
 The wine of thought, until the far-off crown 
 
 Of the old hill grew dim : then soft he sank 
 Into deep sleep, and love and its renown 
 
 Forsook him not even then, for in his dreams 
 
 He walked alone anigh two singing streams. 
 
2 6 BLANID. 
 
 And on the level sward that lay between 
 
 These warbling waters clear, bright garlanded 
 
 With many-scented blooms, the gentle Queen 
 Of Flowers and Summer, Aine, towards him 
 led 
 
 Her handmaids in their flowing kirtles green, 
 A coronal of lilies on each head : 
 
 And as she drew anigh with heavenly grace, 
 
 Fair Blanid s form she wore .and Blanid s face ! 
 
 Unto a bank where many violets grew 
 
 She came and stood, while one beside her played 
 Upon a golden lute, and ever drew 
 
 Sweet strains from it, and sang, " Afraid ! 
 
 afraid 
 Of love am I ! to yearn as lovers do, 
 
 To laugh and weep by turns, to stand dismayed 
 At every cloud, to sigh for naught, to prove 
 All joy and bitterness, and yet I love!" 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 27 
 
 And as she sang they moved, and back again 
 O er the fresh blossoms passed, yet to his 
 ear, 
 
 As they moved farther on, the handmaid s strain 
 Floated along the meadow, and more clear, 
 
 More piercing still with passion s bliss and pain 
 It grew and grew, until a thrill of fear 
 
 Shot through him at the marvel, and he woke 
 
 Nigh the dark shadow of the ancient oak. 
 
 His horse was grazing near, his hounds at rest, 
 Yet scarce a. spear-length from him, on the 
 ground, 
 
 Sat a bright man in minstrel s colors drest, 
 Playing upon a harp whose lovely sound 
 
 Filled all the place : upon his stalwart breast 
 A black beard flowed, and ivy leaves enwound 
 
 His broad brows, while, beneath, two dark eyes shone 
 
 And a fair face unbrowned by wind and sun. 
 
28 BLAN1D. 
 
 Upstood the knight, but not with hand on hilt, 
 For still the minstrel stirred not, and he 
 said, 
 
 " O rich-robed stranger, tell me what thou wilt 
 Of thine own mortal origin, but bred 
 
 With gods thou wert, or in some palace built 
 By the Sid People, for methinks I tread 
 
 In heaven while thou art playing ! Who art thou, 
 
 Man of the pleasant face and wreathed brow ? " 
 
 Upstood the minstrel glittering in the moon 
 
 That now had risen and quenched the star which 
 sees 
 
 Each day s red flame expire, "A boon ! a boon 
 I ask of thee, O Knight ! The melodies 
 
 That my harp uttered will delight thee soon 
 If thou wilt follow me : beyond those trees 
 
 A cave there is where we can shelter find 
 
 From the damp night dews and the chilly wind. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 
 
 2 9 
 
 Then call thy horse and hounds and follow me : 
 Men name me Ferkertne, the lord of song, 
 
 And Curoi s bard, from where Tonn Cleena s sea 
 Buffets flat Beramain with billow strong. 
 
 Then come ! I ve spread the warm cave s floor 
 
 for thee 
 With moss and blooming heather, and the throng 
 
 Of fancies fresh now flitting through my brain 
 
 I 11 sing to thee to-night, if thou art fain ! " 
 
 At the cave s mouth they sat where clear as day 
 Tween two high pines the silvery moonlight 
 fell, 
 
 And with blithe music passed the hours away, 
 And converse, and Ferkertne gan to tell 
 
 How he had sailed across the salt sea spray 
 To look on Blanid s face, and in the well 
 
 Of Poesy to bathe his soul, and sing 
 
 Songs of her beauty to his lord and king. 
 
30 BLANID. 
 
 11 But now," he said, " the moon soars o er the pine 
 That crowns the eastern crag, and we will 
 press 
 
 Our heathery couch and let the Night divine 
 Cover us with her sweet forgetfulness. 
 
 To-morrow morn the Beltane sun will shine 
 And we will seek strong Mana s hold and bless 
 
 Our souls with sight of her fair face, and see 
 
 Their Feast of Flowers and all their pageantry." 
 
 The morn rose fair and strong Cuhullin woke, 
 
 Placed food for horse and hounds, and in the 
 
 fe 
 
 cave 
 Left them, and with the minstrel from the Oak 
 
 And Mead departed upward by the wave 
 Of the wild stream, and soon the woodland folk 
 
 On paths they met trolling a merry stave 
 As they went on, and, further, on the plains 
 Stout husbandmen in flower-bedizened wains. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 3! 
 
 And further still, on the broad royal way 
 
 The crowds increased, as, when the rains pour 
 down 
 
 From far Sleemis to Crotta s mountains gray, 
 Allo and Dallo, and the waters brown 
 
 Of Clyda, and strong Mulla white with spray, 
 And Funcheon tumbling fast by rock and town, 
 
 Swell the Blackwater s tide, so from each glen, 
 
 Hamlet and hold poured crowds of laughing men, 
 
 Women and children on the royal road 
 
 That Beltane morn, yet, nathless some were there 
 
 Who groaned in secret neath pale sorrow s load, 
 Remorse s sting, or cloud of black despair ; 
 
 For life s fair holidays, howe er bestowed, 
 Soften not grief for all, nor brighten care ; 
 
 Yet on they went, life s pearls, life s heavy clods, 
 
 The hearts that blessed and those that cursed the 
 Gods! 
 
32 BLANID. 
 
 Anigh strong Mana s hold, in raiment new 
 Of summer bloom a hollow vale spread out 
 
 Its meadowy bosom to the sun and dew, 
 Encircled by a sacred wood where, stout 
 
 Gainst time and change, the towering pine-trees 
 
 grew, 
 And strong oaks bade defiance to the shout 
 
 Of wintry storms, and ash and beeches green 
 
 Shadowed the copse where wild things played un 
 seen. 
 
 And on the midmost sward, like giant thrones, 
 Reared by primordial hands, austere and grim, 
 
 Spread the great circle of Druidic stones, 
 
 High precinct of the Gods, wherefrom the hymn 
 
 Of the king s priests uprolled in varied tones 
 That nowmade bright by turns,and nowmade dim, 
 
 The eyes of the vast concourse all around 
 
 The sacred wood-skirts and the sloping ground. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 33 
 
 A space beyond the circle s open gate, 
 
 Arched o er the flower-strewn way stood two 
 
 oak-trees, 
 Whose trunks, tall pillars, well had borne the weight 
 
 Of all their leafy wealth long centuries : 
 Now each towered smiling grandly on his mate, 
 
 Bedecked with many garlands, while the breeze 
 Shook their broad branches with a voiceful quiver, 
 Like the light murmuring of some gladsome river. 
 
 Beyond the oaks, a good spear-cast across, 
 Lay piled a circle of dry wood and fern 
 
 And withered larch-boughs and thyme-spiced moss 
 And sea-grass from the home of swan and tern, 
 
 And aromatic pine and last year s floss 
 
 Of the white marsh flax, and all flowers that learn 
 
 Of God to scent earth s woods, from th inward 
 pyre 
 
 Waiting the high priest and the sacred fire. 
 
34 BLANID. 
 
 And nigh the roadway, on a dais raised 
 
 High o er the perfumed meadow, sat the King 
 
 Upon a golden seat, and all amazed 
 
 With love and wonder, mid a blooming ring 
 
 Of bright-clad maidens in a robe that blazed 
 With gems, Cuhullin saw fair Blanid fling 
 
 More garlands toward the oak-trees, singing sweet 
 
 To the light cadence of the moving feet. 
 
 And more amazed he saw the minstrel go 
 
 To the young maids, and with his harp-strings 
 bare 
 
 Wake magic sounds thereon, until more slow 
 The dancing feet moved, and their joyous air 
 
 He matched with kindred music : soft and low 
 It warbled first, till with the dancers fair 
 
 He moved toward the green trees, then loud it rang 
 
 With his sweet voice and theirs, and thus he 
 sang : 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 35 
 
 " Come hither with song and with glances bright : 
 
 Sing to the Glory who walks his way 
 For ever unchanged o er the arching height, 
 The Helper, the Maker of man s delight, 
 
 The Father of Morning, whose piercing ray 
 
 Illumes the shores where the darkness lay ! 
 Sing to the Softener of grief, the Sower, 
 
 The Ripener, the Reaper, the Lord of day, 
 The Slayer of death and the Life-bestower ! 
 
 " When Light withdrew from the Darkness old, 
 
 And the fresh blue heavens and the crystal sea 
 Laughed in the primal Morning s gold, 
 Earth s rocky wastes lay stark and cold 
 
 Without voice of zephyr or streamlet s glee. 
 
 Then the golden Sun smote the barren lea 
 And the shores and the hills and the plains and passes, 
 
 And the birthday was of the shrub and tree, 
 Of the painted flowers and the fragrant grasses. 
 
36 BLANID. 
 
 " The clouds arose from the ocean s breast 
 And fell on the deserts in silver showers, 
 
 The streams awoke in their sweet unrest, 
 
 And the new-born winds at the sun s behest 
 Sang in the leaves of the springing bowers, 
 Till the waste, transformed, was a world of flowers, 
 
 Where the glory of light from the dews would glisten, 
 And they whispered sweet in the windy hours 
 
 With no eyes to see them, no ears to listen. 
 
 " Then the Maker of Gods, who ruled the span 
 
 Of the starry kingdoms, the sun, the earth, 
 To the uttermost spaces ere time began, 
 Of the red clay wrought him the primal Man, 
 
 Of the bright flowers fashioned the woman s birth ; 
 
 For the joy of their bodies and hours of mirth 
 He gave them the grape and the wine to follow, 
 
 The game of the forest, the fish of the firth, 
 And the corn and the fruit of the plain and hollow. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 37 
 
 " But best for them and their soul s delight, 
 
 The flower-web of glory round earth he spun, 
 
 The purple of Heather, the Mead-blooms bright, 
 
 The May and the delicate Woodbine s white, 
 The Daisy fresji, and the darling One, 
 The Hyacinth young j and a splendor shone 
 
 From their bloom in meadow and wood-glade stilly, 
 And the garden glowed in the golden Sun 
 
 With the Pink and the Rose and the saffron Lily. 
 
 " Come hither, come hither, with garlands meet 
 
 For Youth s bright brow and for Age s head, 
 Of the fairest flowers that the mornings greet 
 With perfumed breath and with kisses sweet 
 
 In glen and meadow and garden bed ; 
 
 For Summer is come and the Winter s sped 
 From moor and mountain, from field and forest, 
 
 And the birds in the greenwood woo and wed, 
 And the blossoms laugh where the frosts lay hoarest ! 
 
38 BLANID. 
 
 11 Come hither, come hither, our song to weave 
 Of joy where the old Oaks branching rise ! 
 
 Under their shadows let no heart grieve, 
 
 Let love meet love and its truth believe, 
 
 And laugh meet laughter ! while sunny skies 
 Brighten the sward and the sweet hour flics, 
 
 From fell and forest, by spring and river, 
 
 From brake and bank where the dewdrop lies. 
 
 Gather the garlands and praise the Giver ! " 
 
 Now when the song was ended and the dance, 
 And gracefully again the maids drew nigh 
 
 Where the high dais stood, Cuhullin s glance 
 Fell on the King and marked the old man s eye 
 
 Bent on him with a furtive look askance, 
 
 Bitter, that seemed to say, " In days gone by 
 
 Thy father s blood coursed through #a foeman s 
 heart, 
 
 If I can rightly guess whose son thou art ! " 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 39 
 
 But now in th inner circle a light smoke 
 
 Curled upward o er the pyre, as though it came 
 
 From tween the high priest s hands, and as he 
 
 spoke 
 With face upturned to heaven the Sun God s name, 
 
 Moving his outspread palms the while, there broke 
 From the sweet perfumed wood a golden flame 
 
 Whereat a torch he lit, and, turning, made 
 
 His slow way outward to the oak-trees shade. 
 
 Thence with straight-gazing eyes he passed the 
 King, 
 
 And at the East side with loud voice of song 
 Touched the obedient wood of th outward ring, 
 
 And by the South and West he went along 
 Unto the Northern boundary ; with a spring 
 
 Up to the heavens the flame flew fresh and strong 
 Where er he touched, then turned he, while a cry 
 Of gladness from the concourse filled the sky. 
 
40 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 And as he sought again the sacred place, 
 
 Swift runners rushed with ready torch in hand, 
 Caught the fresh flame, and with light feet, whose 
 
 trace 
 The young grass felt not, cut the breeze that 
 
 fanned 
 
 Each torch, as swept they in their headlong race 
 East, West, North, South, until throughout the 
 
 land, 
 
 From sea to seaboard, each extinguished hearth 
 Laughed in the gladness of the new fire s birth. 
 
 Now in the gay confusion and the swaying 
 Of the crowd to and fro, the minstrel stood 
 
 By the tall Knight. " O comrade, thou art playing 
 A game," he said, " will spill thy valiant blood ! 
 
 Then get thee hence ! No more, no more delaying ! 
 I ve seen the King s brow bent in treach rousmood, 
 
 I ve heard him speak ! O heed the minstrel s fears ! 
 
 Look yonder, and behold that hedge of spears ! " 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 41 
 
 He started not : he bent his kindly eye 
 
 Upon the bright-robed minstrel, as he spoke : 
 
 " Fear not for me, O friend ! What looks awry 
 Will soon seem straight; and may Crom s light 
 ning-stroke 
 
 Fall on my head when with base soul I fly 
 The frown of danger, for the golden yoke 
 
 Of love is linked around me, and I fear 
 
 Nor doom, nor death, while my beloved is near ! 
 
 " My father loved her mother and made war 
 On Mana s king, whence mortal hatred sprung, 
 
 And I was born beneath the selfsame star, 
 
 And I must love the daughter, and they ve 
 sung, 
 
 High bard and minstrel, that t is better far 
 
 To love and do great deeds when one is young: 
 
 And whatsoever weird is on me set 
 
 I 11 bear it for her sake without regret ! " 
 
42 BLANID. 
 
 " Look to thy neck then, and beware the axe," 
 The minstrel said, " for the high King hath 
 spoken 
 
 Thy doom ere this, and Vengeance never lacks 
 Her bitter food, in breasts of kings awoken ; 
 
 With eager wings she flies upon thy tracks 
 Pursuing thee, and I believe no token 
 
 Of safety, but to see thee sit thy steed 
 
 Under the oak-tree in yon forest mead." 
 
 Then answered strong Cuhullin, " I am he 
 
 To whom fate gave two choices, and who 
 said, 
 
 Better to live a short life gloriously 
 And as a hero die, than, living-dead, 
 
 An old man with bent frame and tottering knee, 
 Tumble into the grave! While hope is fed 
 
 By her kind looks, I stir not ! Live or die, 
 
 Here Blanid s bright eyes gleam, and here am I ! " 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 
 
 43 
 
 Then Blanid s bower-maid, Mora, touched his arm 
 With a red rose, " My lady sends thee this, 
 
 Fair knight," she said, "and bids thee flee the harm 
 That threats thy life and ending of her bliss ! " 
 
 And she was gone like some bright fairy charm 
 One meets in desert places but to miss, 
 
 Gone in the crowd that now thronged nigh the 
 King 
 
 To see the people pass the fiery ring. 
 
 First came a young betrothed pair, their heads 
 All garlanded with flower-buds, side by side, 
 
 Li-ght-footed, glad, across the clover beds 
 Of the fresh mead, more following, till a tide 
 
 Of human life and joy drew nearthe shreds 
 And ash left in a smouldering circle wide 
 
 By the swift flame, where each pair of the 
 band 
 
 Leaped o er the smoking barrier hand in hand ; 
 
44 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Leaped in and kissed .each other, then sprang out, 
 And onward danced beneath the ancient trees, 
 
 Scattering to right and left with song and shout 
 Over the grass, all ages, all degrees, 
 
 Passed by the King s seat in that merry rout, 
 Singing sweet songs and love-woven melodies 
 
 Of birth and bloom of flowers and earth s first 
 prime 
 
 And all the gladness of their summer clime. 
 
 Then came the firstlings of each herd and flock, 
 The snow-white lamb, the silken calf, the foal 
 
 With wondering eyes, the gray kid from the rock, 
 And cross the smoking ring and round the 
 bole 
 
 Of each tall tree were driven with gentle shock 
 Of down-poured primroses from ferny knoll 
 
 Or sunny bank, and stroke of blossomed spray 
 
 Of broom and lilac and sweet-smelling may. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA- 45 
 
 Then for good fortune rode the young knights by, 
 All life and laughter pacing o er the ring, 
 
 Till with drooped plumes and lance-points raised 
 
 on high, 
 Half-hid in sacred smoke, they passed the King, 
 
 A crowd of spears thick as the bearded rye 
 Upon the wind-blown hill-side following, 
 
 And, led by a tall squire, adown the mead 
 
 Barana, the King s angry battle steed ; 
 
 Angry and swift and strong, for ne er before 
 Had rein or tightened girth upon him pressed ; 
 
 With brass-shod hoofs the blossomed sward he 
 
 tore 
 As he pranced down the field in housings dressed 
 
 Of silk and gold ; fierce was the look he wore, 
 With shining haunch, and broad-extended breast, 
 
 And steel-gray coat, and mane of lighter gray 
 
 Tossed o er his proud neck like a torrent s spray. 
 
46 BLANID. 
 
 Now from beside the royal chair a knight 
 
 Came smiling forth to pace the charger through, 
 
 r 
 
 Sprang on his back, a moment curbed his might 
 With deft hand, and a doubtful struggle grew 
 
 Tween both, and raged, till, like an arrow s flight, 
 Up in the air the gallant rider flew 
 
 And soon lay on the greensward, and was borne 
 
 Out from the throng with shame-faced looks 
 forlorn. 
 
 A second won the fortune of the first. 
 
 Then cautiously a third young knight began 
 To stroke the steed, and well nerved for the worst 
 
 Sprang up, and then came down his full-length 
 
 span 
 Upon the sward again like one accurst. 
 
 Then cried the wily King, " Perchance yon man 
 A head and shoulders towering o er the crowd 
 May mount my steed and try his mettle proud ! " 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MANA. 
 
 47 
 
 Cuhullin looked. Behind the royal chair 
 Stood Blanid with a red rose in her hand 
 
 Upraised, as though it said, " Beware ! Beware ! 
 The coil is round thee ! Fly, ere yet the 
 brand 
 
 Touch thy beloved neck ! " But naught soe er 
 Of danger now could curb him, and he scanned 
 
 The war-steed with admiring gaze, then stood 
 
 With eyes cast down awhile in musing mood. 
 
 Then drew he near to strong Barana s side, 
 And at a bound bestrode him, seized the rein 
 
 And plunged him o er the sward in circles wide, 
 Handling him with such care as on the main 
 
 The mariner bestows gainst wind and tide 
 Upon his bark that at the tiller s strain 
 
 Obedient turns though rough^ the course, so 
 led, 
 
 Along the echoing field Barana sped. 
 
4 8 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Now through the circle like a flash he went, 
 And onward neath the arching trees, and here, 
 
 As he drave rushing on, Cuhullin leant 
 
 Forward beside his mane and snatched a spear 
 
 From a rough soldier s hand, and frowning sent 
 A shout against the ranks that, marshalled 
 near, 
 
 Stood ready to fall on him, and who now 
 
 Quailed at the darkness on the hero s brow, 
 
 And scattered to each side as doth the pack 
 Of hungry wolves by lone Morgallion s wave, 
 
 That follows swift upon the wild boar s track, 
 To find him thundering from his hollow cave 
 
 Upon them with bright tusks and bristled back 
 Through brush and reed, so at the shout he 
 gave 
 
 They scattered right and left, as threatening still 
 
 He turned Barana towards the barren hill. 
 
THE FLOWER FEAST IN MAN A. 49 
 
 Away with cries and clattering hoofs behind, 
 Across the stream and through the sacred 
 grove, 
 
 While rose the King s fierce shout upon the wind 
 Angry, as when in wild Tormana s cove 
 
 The beast howls for the prey he cannot find : 
 Yet howsoe er his strong pursuers strove 
 
 At the King s voice, Barana s hoofs of speed 
 
 Soon left them far behind both man and steed. 
 
 That eve at set of sun Cuhullin gained 
 The Waterfall, the lovely Mead and Tree, 
 
 And by the cavern s mouth the charger reined, 
 Alit, and bowed his head and bent his knee 
 
 Unto the Gods with thankfulness unfeigned, 
 And with good hope of happy augury 
 
 Barana took, and in the cavern rude 
 
 Before him and his own steed spread the 
 food. 
 
 3 D 
 
DLANID. 
 
 I 
 
 A moment stood he still, and with delight 
 
 Beheld the two great steeds their haunches 
 press 
 
 Together, and like ancient comrades bite 
 
 The fragrant heap and share the selfsame tress 
 
 Of scented clover-blossoms, and affright 
 
 The same flies with their tails in friendliness ; 
 
 Then laughed he as he said, " This augury 
 
 Beginneth well for my beloved and me ! " 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 
 
 THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 
 
 T TP from the sapphire depths of space profound 
 Arose the laughing dawn, and all the skies 
 Brightened until, beneath, the flowery ground 
 Laughed in return, and the awakening flies 
 Outspread their jewelled wings with gladsome 
 
 sound 
 
 To welcome her, while calls and joyous cries 
 Of wild things from the bosky dells and lays 
 Of birds in field and forest sang her praise. 
 
52 BLANID. 
 
 And at her touch Cuhullin woke, though 
 deep 
 
 He slept, forgetting all his joys and woes, 
 And in glad wonder saw the minstrel reap 
 
 The meed of toil in dreamless, calm repose 
 Beside him on the fragrant heather heap, 
 
 His hand upon the harp-frame, while a rose 
 Red as young Blanid s lips within it lay, 
 Sole trophy of the merry yesterday. 
 
 He laughed unto himself with secret joy 
 To see his loved one s symbol lying there, 
 
 And stole from out the cave, and, to employ 
 The heavenly hour, across the meadow fair 
 
 Walked down to where the wild-birds, nothing 
 
 coy 
 At the tall stranger s presence, filled the air 
 
 With tremulous music and the tumbling flood 
 
 Answered from green recesses of the wood. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULUN. 
 
 53 
 
 Beside the stream he sat and mused awhile 
 
 Till the first sunbeam found the blossomed glade 
 
 Through the green leaves, and many a lover s 
 
 wile 
 He formed to meet again the royal maid, 
 
 To clasp her hand, to bask him in her smile, 
 Till, with a look of gladness that betrayed 
 
 His heart s resolve, he turned him o er the dew 
 
 Of the fresh mead and sought the cave anew. 
 
 At this same hour young Mora to the side 
 
 Of Blanid s couch came: "Up!" she said; "the 
 
 day, 
 O mistress ! laughs upon the waters wide 
 
 And lights the whispering woods ! Up and away 
 Into our garden where the humming tide 
 
 From the cool fountain falls in diamond spray 
 Adown the mossy rocks, and where in glee 
 The blithe birds sing to welcome morn and thee ! 
 
54 BLANID. 
 
 " And I will bring the lute that thou hast taught 
 My fingers to make mournful or unsad, 
 
 As each fresh mood within thy dear heart wrought 
 Its influence ; and the merry hours we had 
 
 Last morn within the garden will seem naught 
 This day to thee, for now thy heart is glad 
 
 With yon tall hero s love, they say thy mind 
 
 Will run on thoughts e en still more glad and 
 kind ! " 
 
 Like a young rose touched by the gold of morn, 
 Blanid awoke, and, looking, laughed and said, 
 
 " Small wonder since the day that thou wert born 
 Thou rt called the Chatterer ! Seems as thou 
 wert bred 
 
 With daws and jays, all merry things that scorn 
 A silent hour ; but hither thy bright head 
 
 Of nut-brown hair, that I may kiss thine eyes 
 
 And lips, and pay thee for thy morn s surprise ! " 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 55 
 
 Mid fern and foxglove by the woodland rill 
 The quick-eyed ousel prinks herself in pride 
 
 On the cool bank, when the voice sweet and 
 
 shrill 
 Of her mate calls her, with dark head aside 
 
 She looks this way and that, then runs until 
 She joins him in the sunshine, so with glide 
 
 Of body and light foot across the room 
 
 Young Mora sought her lady s arms of bloom. 
 
 And then, as Blanid kissed her, playfully 
 
 She broke from out the circling arms and cried, 
 
 Clapping her hands, "Ah not for me, for me 
 That last kiss was ! for yester morningtide, 
 
 When thou didst kiss me neath the blossomed 
 
 tree 
 Beside the we ll, thou strovest not to hide 
 
 Thy blushes from me ! Ah ! I wis, I wis 
 
 The robber of Barana owns that kiss ! " 
 
56 BLANID. 
 
 Deeper the Bright One s blush, though well she 
 strove 
 
 To hide it, as the Chatterer cried again, 
 " Oh ! would that I were old enough to love 
 
 And know what love is and be loved by men ! 
 I tell thee I would make my champion prove 
 
 His mettle among heroes ; in the fen 
 Of Gurmal the Gray Serpent he should slay 
 With sword and spear before the bridal day! 
 
 " For I was taught by poets sweet and wise 
 
 Within my brother s hall what knights should be, 
 
 And mine should have a soul of high emprise, 
 And with brass keels should plough the stubborn 
 sea 
 
 To foreign lands, where untold treasure lies 
 In dragon s dens, and he should bring to me 
 
 The dragon s claws as tokens, and full measure 
 
 Unto my house of all the priceless treasure ! 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 
 
 57 
 
 "And he should have three hounds with golden 
 chains 
 
 And bells all tinkling like the gay harp s thrills, 
 A war-steed from the far-off emerald plains 
 
 Of Human, and a hawk from Norway s hills ; 
 The three sweet Berries of the Yew with stains 
 
 Of crimson on them, from Dunthirre s rills, 
 He d bring to me, with the bright Marigold 
 Three-headed from Birara s magic wold ; 
 
 "And he " Here like a posy of fresh pink 
 Blanid s fair hand upon her mouth was pressed, 
 
 To stay the flood of talk that o er its brink 
 
 Was bubbling now so fast. " Unblest ! unblest 
 
 The hapless man," she cried, "foredoomed to 
 
 drink 
 The bridal cup with thee, for naught of rest 
 
 He 11 know till his last life-thread is unstrung, 
 
 While thou art near him with thy prattling tongue ! 
 3* 
 
58 BLANID. 
 
 " And yet I love thee, child ; and well I may, 
 Since thy strong sire, great lord of Beramere, 
 
 Gave his life for my father s in that fray 
 Waged with Tintagel s heroes, ere a year 
 
 Had crowned thy winsome head with ringlets gay ; 
 And now thou knowest my heart, oh ! still more 
 dear 
 
 I love thee, thou sweet pearl ! Then come, and bring 
 
 Thy lute with thee, that thou mayest play and sing." 
 
 Then forth they went, and through a wicket small 
 Of brazen tracery sought the garden fair, 
 
 Where through the luminous, whispering leaves 
 
 did fall 
 Shafts of white sunlight upon blossoms rare 
 
 From every clime ; and nigh the further wall 
 They sat them down upon a fresh bank, where 
 
 The placid fount, the garden s azure eye, 
 
 Returned the love-lit glances of the sky. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 59 
 
 And Blanid said, " Sweet blossom of the May, 
 Sing me a song to cheer me." Eager then 
 
 Brown Mora answered, " Shall I sing the Lay 
 Of Garmon, or the Lady and the Wren, 
 
 Or Starry Fingers, or the Twilight Fay, 
 Or that old mournful song beloved of men 
 
 And maids, The Knight forlorn slept in the 
 Wood, 
 
 The Gold Branch, or White Mergal by the Flood, 
 
 Or Mora and the Moon, that Tiernan sings, 
 Our minstrel, or The blooming Almond Tree, 
 
 The Mermaid and the Man, or Silver Wings " 
 " Sing," said fair Blanid laughing, " Sing to me 
 
 The song that Tiernan made for thee, that brings 
 Gladness whene er t is sung ! " " O mistress ! 
 
 see," 
 
 Cried Mora, " yon two doves upon their bough ! 
 For them he made this song I sing thee now." 
 
60 BLANID. 
 
 "THE DOVES. 
 
 " My little blue doves were born, 
 
 Were born in the windy March, 
 
 Up in the tapering larch 
 That laughs in the light of morn : 
 O, so high o er the meadow ! 
 
 O, so high o er the glen ! 
 And they sit in the leafy shadow, 
 
 The joy and delight of men, 
 Cooing, with voices flowing 
 
 In melody soft and sweet, 
 Their necks with the rainbow glowing, 
 
 And the pink on their silver feet. 
 
 " My little doves lived together, 
 Unweeting of woe and pain, 
 Through the days of the winds and rain 
 And the sunny and fragrant weather ; 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 6 1 
 
 And the lark sang o er them in heaven, 
 
 And the linnet from banks of flowers, 
 And the robin chanted at even, 
 
 And the thrush in the morning hours 
 Carolled to cheer their wooing, 
 
 And the blackbird merry and bold 
 Answered their cooing, cooing 
 
 Out from the windy wold. 
 
 " When the daisy its eye uncloses, 
 
 And the cowslip glistens with dew, 
 
 And the hyacinth pure and blue 
 And the lilies and pearl-bright roses 
 Prink themselves in the splendor 
 
 Of the delicate white-foot Dawn, 
 Mid the flowers and the fragrance tender 
 
 My little dove s heart was thawn 
 With love by the cooing, cooing 
 
 Of the gentle mate at her side, 
 And they married in midst of their wooing, 
 
 My bridegroom and woodland bride ! " 
 
62 BLANID. 
 
 Now take the lute thyself, O mistress sweet, 
 And sing to me of love, and let me know 
 
 What love is, for t is surely most unmeet 
 That I should sit in hall and see a glow 
 
 In young squires eyes my morning presence 
 
 greet, 
 Not knowing why. Sing ! that I may bestow 
 
 Four kisses on thee, two from me, and two 
 
 For one who worships well thine eyes of blue ! " 
 
 And Blanid took the lute, and " Would that I 
 Could tell thee, child ! " she said. " But since 
 that noon 
 
 He saved me in the forest, the bright sky 
 Seems brighter, and all things I see a boon 
 
 Sent by the Gods who rule in heaven on high, 
 To give me gladness ; but alas ! too soon 
 
 My father s ire will end it ; and to thee 
 
 I 11 sing my thoughts of what the end may be : - 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 63 
 
 "WHAT IS THIS LOVE? 
 
 " What is this love, this love that makes 
 
 My heart s warm pulses quiver? 
 They say it is the power that wakes 
 The hyacinth mid hazel brakes, 
 
 The lilies by the river, 
 And that same thing that bids the dove 
 Sit in the pine-tree high above, 
 
 Its sweetheart wooing ; 
 But oh ! alas ! whate er it be, 
 And howsoe er it comes to me, 
 
 It comes for my undoing ! 
 
 " The lily of the river side 
 
 By its sweet mate reposes 
 Through autumn moons and winter-tide, 
 To wake in love and beauty s pride 
 When comes the time of roses, 
 
64 BLANID. 
 
 And in the springing of the year 
 The doves sweet voices you will hear 
 
 Their vows renewing ; 
 But oh ! alas ! whate er love be, 
 And howsoe er it comes to me, 
 
 It comes for my undoing ! 
 
 " O child ! I fear this love, for always pain 
 
 It mingles with its joy, I fear, I fear 
 I know not what while in my heart doth reign 
 
 This tyrant. But the air is sultry here, 
 And I would see the foxglove s purple stain 
 
 And heather, and would smell the blossomed brere, 
 And love to pluck the forest flowers, and yearn 
 To trail my robe amidst the fragrant fern ! " 
 
 And forth they went, and left the garden bright 
 Through a small postern, and t was joy to see 
 
 Their young hearts tasting of the dear delight 
 Of freedom in fresh woods ; each branching tree 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 65 
 
 To them towered upward to a glorious height ; 
 The zephyrs sang, the rill, the bird, the bee, 
 Sang in return, till all the flowery ground 
 Seemed pulsing to the sweet pervading sound. 
 
 At length they heard the murmur of the river 
 Wherein the forest streamlets plunge and drown 
 
 Their merriment, and mid the stir and quiver 
 Of grasses and green leaves they sat them down 
 
 Upon a bank where thyme, the perfume-giver 
 To flocks and herds on hills and moorlands brown, 
 
 Grew thick with bronzed moss, heath, and lacly s- 
 dower, 
 
 Wild hyacinth and every woodland flower. 
 
 And as they sat, their quickened senses steeping 
 In the new life and glory of the wood, 
 
 Young Mora through the blossomed thicket peeping 
 Saw a tall man anigh them, where the flood 
 
 E 
 
66 BLANID. 
 
 Adown its pebbly bed went gaily leaping ; 
 
 A minstrel s cloak he wore, a minstrel s hood 
 Of seven fresh colors bright, and in his hand 
 lie held a glittering harp that lit the strand. 
 
 Upon a stone he sat, and silently 
 
 Gazed on the crystal tide, while near him played 
 The river-birds unfrightened. " Hush ! t is he ! " 
 
 Glad Mora cried, " the minstrel, all arrayed 
 For musjc as on yesterday ! What glee ! 
 
 To hear the fairy music that he made ! 
 But hush! he stirs ; let s take what fortune brings! 
 He wakes the sounding wires ! He sings, he 
 sings ! " 
 
 SONG. 
 " O Wind of the west that bringest, 
 
 O er wood and lea, 
 
 Perfume of flowers from my lady s bowers 
 And a strain and a melody, 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 67 
 
 While soft mid the bloom thou singest 
 
 Thy songs of laughter and sighs, 
 
 Steal in where my darling lies 
 With a kiss to her mouth from me ! 
 
 " White Rose, when at morn thou twinest 
 
 Her lattice fair, 
 Wave to and fro in the fresh sun s glow 
 
 Till she wakes and beholds thee there ; 
 When over her brow thou shinest, 
 
 Then whisper from me, and press 
 
 On her dear head one fond caress, 
 And a kiss on her yellow hair ! 
 
 " O Rose ! and O Wind that found her 
 
 Mid morning s glee ! 
 While the noon goes by, keep ever nigh 
 
 With your beauty and melody ; 
 With your smile and your song stay round her 
 
 Till she closes her eyelids bright ; 
 
 Then give her a sweet Good-night 
 And a kiss on the lips from me ! " 
 
68 BLANID. 
 
 The first note Blanid heard, her face grew wan, 
 Half-rose she, trembling, with dilated eyes, 
 
 Sat down again, and some sweet flowers that shone 
 Beside her she plucked up, and like a prize 
 
 Beloved kissed them as the strain went on, 
 And laughed a little, till, like morning skies 
 
 Reddening with dainty rose, the blush that speaks 
 
 Of health and joy returned to her fair cheeks. 
 
 Then laughed she unto Mora, " He is here ! 
 
 No minstrel he, but my strong lover true ! 
 Though Death with his pale hand should close mine 
 ear, 
 
 His voice would pierce my fond heart and renew 
 Its throbbings, lying cold upon the bier, 
 
 The grave-clothes round me! Bring him here 
 
 and strew 
 
 Some flowers upon this sunny bank to bless 
 Our wondrous meeting and our happiness ! " 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 69 
 
 And Mora plucked the bright fresh-smelling flowers 
 And strewed them on the bank, then out she ran 
 
 With loose hair through the intervening bowers 
 And down the slope, and, ere the bright-robed man 
 
 Knew where he sat, rained kisses sweet in showers 
 On both his cheeks, and " Come," she said, " the 
 ban 
 
 Of her great sire is on thee ; but let me 
 
 In all these things thy kind protector be." 
 
 She took his hand in hers, and like a child 
 He followed her with joyful throbbing heart 
 
 Up the green slope, till through the copses wild 
 He reached the place, and saw new blushes 
 start 
 
 Unto his loved one s fair cheek as she smiled 
 Like a full moon on him. With lips apart 
 
 And upraised hands she stood before him, fain 
 
 To clasp him to her happy breast again ! 
 
B LAN ID. 
 
 Then hand touched hand, and face met burning face, 
 And sweet words passed, as sweet words will forever 
 
 Tween hearts that love, and mid that bloomy place 
 They sat them down, and in the wide world never 
 
 Sat such a pair ; their looks, their smiles, gave grace 
 And beauty to the spot no thought could sever 
 
 From all things round, all things that laugh and live 
 
 In sunshine and the gladness sunbeams give ! 
 
 Said Blanid, " Since the hour I saw thee first 
 Thou rt in my heart ! " Said he, " Since that glad 
 
 hour, 
 My heart has yearned with love s insatiate thirst, 
 
 Burning for thee, and some immortal power 
 Impels me to thee through the best and worst 
 Of this my life ! " Said she, " Black clouds may 
 
 lower 
 
 Upon our love, but my love will remain 
 Unchanged through all, through all life s joy and 
 pain!" 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. ji 
 
 He pressed his lips to hers and to his breast 
 Her throbbing breast, and said, "Through all I 
 see 
 
 Of peril and of sorrow and unrest, 
 
 My love shall grow like yonder vigorous tree 
 
 That rears unto the sky its blossomed crest, 
 Gladdening the forest ; so my love shall be, 
 
 Till, as a blast strikes low the proud tree s head, 
 
 Fate comes and counts me with the early dead ! 
 
 " For know, beloved one, my weird and doom ! 
 
 When I was sixteen summers, Caffa old, 
 The King s seer, prophesied, and pierced the gloom 
 
 Of the veil tween us and the Gods, and told 
 That he who on the morrow would assume 
 
 Knighthood should be the pink and pearl and 
 
 gold 
 
 Of chivalry, and that his fame should die 
 Only when earth died and the eternal sky. 
 
72 BLANID. 
 
 " With wrapt eyes still he prophesied, and said, 
 His fame shall be a tree whose branches wide 
 
 Shall overspread the world, but he is wed 
 Unto a weird, that in the strength and pride 
 
 Of early manhood he shall fill the bed 
 
 Of death ! who takes the weird ? And I replied, 
 
 I take it ! and a knight was made next day, 
 
 The short life and the glorious for my pay. 
 
 "Therefore, O maid! my love shall bring thee 
 sorrow ! " 
 
 " Therefore," she cried, " my love will bring thee 
 
 bliss 
 Through thy short life, O valiant one ! and borrow 
 
 Light from all things for thee, and what we miss 
 Of length of days what boots it, when a morrow 
 
 Will come at last when we shall fade like this, 
 This little flower I hold within my hand, 
 That, plucked or not, would die upon the strand ? " 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 73 
 
 And thus they sat and vowed, till from the bank 
 Of the bright stream came Mora, lilting sweet 
 
 Her Dove Song, then long draughts of love they 
 
 drank 
 Each from the other s eyes, for hours are fleet 
 
 When soul meets soul and time is ever blank ; 
 And Mora said, " I hear the hurrying feet 
 
 Of hunters in the wood and ye must part ; 
 
 Now let me see how heart beats unto heart ! " 
 
 Upstood they trembling with their love, and he 
 Opening his arms, unto his breast she flew, 
 
 Her fond arms round his neck, and mournfully 
 She kissed him till he felt the love-born dew 
 
 Of her tears on his cheeks. " I see ! I see ! " 
 Cried Mora now, " how true heart beats to true ! 
 
 Away, before the hunters find the trace, 
 
 But come and meet next morn in this bright 
 place ! " 
 
74 BLANID. 
 
 Six times they met. On the sixth morn she said, 
 " Where is thy war-gear, O brave love of mine ? 
 
 For I would see thy bright helm on thy head, 
 Thy battle harness with its bosses shine 
 
 Of gold and brass, thy shield with Branches 
 
 Red 
 Graven upon it ! " " Where the salty brine 
 
 Rolls up the river mouth," he said, " they lie 
 
 Within my broad-sailed galley for thine eye. 
 
 " Then come with me, O love, and in my hall 
 Of strong Dun Dalgan thou a queen shalt 
 reign, 
 
 And mistress of my fond heart, over all 
 The ladies of the land, while I attain 
 
 All things for love and thee, before my fall 
 In the great fight upon the fated plain, 
 
 Before I die and laugh no more with thee ! " 
 
 " Ah ! no, no, no ! " she cried, " it cannot be ! 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 75 
 
 " What wouldst thou think of me in years to come 
 If I should list to thee, if I should yield, 
 
 When underneath the earth my sire was dumb 
 And could not speak his wrath with spear and 
 shield, 
 
 When thou wouldst say, She left her happy home, 
 Her hard heart like a frozen fountain sealed 
 
 Gainst her gray sire ! Can she be true to me ? 
 
 Ah ! no, no, no ! Alas ! it cannot be ! " 
 
 They parted, and upon the seventh bright morn, 
 As he rode upward through the forest wild, 
 
 A small black cloud within the east was born 
 Beneath the sun, and oft looked down and smiled 
 
 With serpent face on fields of tender corn 
 
 And leaf and flower of woodland calm and 
 mild, 
 
 And lake and stream, as though it whispered, " I 
 
 Will soon devour all things beneath the sky ! " 
 
BLANID. 
 
 And as he rode, the cloud clomb up the east 
 On the sun s track and swallowed it ; around, 
 
 From copse and brake the birds their carols ceased 
 In terror, and the multitudinous sound 
 
 Of the wood s life grew still ; the bristled beast 
 Gainst the rough oak his tusks in anger 
 ground, 
 
 The trout sank in the stream, the rabbit fled, 
 
 And the brown otter sought his caverned bed. 
 
 As he went through the valley of the Mead 
 And Waterfall and Tree, east, south and west 
 
 And the grim north were black : but little heed 
 He took of all the gloom, as on he pressed, 
 
 With high heart, clothed in his battle weed, 
 To meet his love, his spear in hand, his crest 
 
 Brightening the gloom, as on he rode like 
 Nied, 
 
 The God of War, along that river side. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 77 
 
 And as he came unto the trysting-place 
 
 To find his love, and found no love was there, 
 
 His battle-steed, Lia Macha, raised her face 
 And neighed three times, till through the murky 
 air 
 
 The Gods sent lightning from the dreadful space 
 Tvveen the cloud s serpent jaws, and in the glare 
 
 He saw the wood surrounded, and the sheen 
 
 Of threatening swords the mossy trunks between ! 
 
 And as he moved the great shield from his back 
 And poised it on his arm, Lia Macha smote 
 
 The ground with earthquake hoof, and still more 
 
 black 
 The gloom became, and from the sulphurous throat 
 
 Of the grim cloud burst thunder like the wrack 
 Of worlds in their destruction, and a moat 
 
 The glade seemed in a moment, from the flood 
 
 Of rain dashed down from heaven upon the wood ! 
 
BLAN1D. 
 
 Then spake he to Lia Macha : " Thou divine, 
 Bright searcher of the souls of heroes, thou 
 
 Who, on the first morn the sharp sword did shine 
 Of Knighthood in my hand, didst raise thy brow 
 
 And neigh portentous till the deafening sign 
 All Eman shook, as earth and heaven shakes 
 now 
 
 At thy dread voice, comrade of my last fray, 
 
 Ah ! bear me well, ah ! bear me well to-day ! " 
 
 Then raised he high his spear and in the 
 gleam 
 
 Of the pale lightning shook it, till its stave 
 Trembled, as a young willow by the stream 
 
 Amidst the fairy whirlwind, and he gave 
 The rein to the fleet steed who, like a beam 
 
 Piercing the dreadful darkness, onward drave 
 Against the foeman s thickest ranks that came 
 With a fierce shout upon him swift as flame ! 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 79 
 
 And round him and Lia Macha flickering played 
 The lightning, till to every foeman s eye 
 
 He seemed a wild bright thing from heaven arrayed 
 Bursting upon them, and his battle-cry 
 
 Smote them as smote the thunder, till afraid 
 They cowered before him, as he swept anigh 
 
 With levelled spear, and through them rushing went 
 
 As a fierce bull drives through the mountain 
 bent! 
 
 Then rose a wind around him and between 
 His foes and him, upon the echoing shore, 
 
 And grew in strength and scourged the copses green 
 With wallowing sound like a huge lion s roar 
 
 In haunted forests where no foot has been, 
 And blew around in circles and uptore 
 
 Tall trees from their strong footholds, stem and 
 spray, 
 
 Shaking them as a wild beast shakes his prey ! 
 
So BLANID. 
 
 No more the ambush followed ; yet the storm 
 With tenfold fury raged, as on he flew 
 
 Through hollows with the murderous lightnings 
 
 warm, 
 Through swollen and boiling torrents that upthrcw 
 
 Their treacherous waves round bright Lia Macha s 
 
 form 
 To clasp her, unavailing, till he drew 
 
 Nigh to the valley of the Mead and Tree, 
 
 And then the storm passed on and smote the sea. 
 
 And the sun shone, and all the forest leaves 
 Seemed hung with trembling glories glittering, 
 
 The blithe red-breasted bird his song that weaves 
 Upon the hawthorn bush began to sing, 
 
 And thrushes spoke, and the lone wight that grieves 
 At dark gave forth a strain, and many a wing 
 
 Of wood-doves struck the air, and blossoms sweet 
 
 Laughed in the sunlight round Lia Macha s feet. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 8 1 
 
 And now from the strong charger he alit, 
 
 And stroked her tween the ears, and led her 
 down 
 
 The mead, to where the brightest spot was smit 
 By sunbeams till it glittered like a crown 
 
 With jewelled blossoms ; then the golden bit 
 He loosed and set her free, and with a frown 
 
 Turned upward to the torrent s ridge of stone 
 
 To think upon his misery alone. 
 
 He sat upon the rocky ledge, while loud 
 
 The river down its passage raged and roared 
 
 That erstwhile sang, and o er him from a cloud 
 The forest eagle screamed as high it soared 
 
 With voice of bitter anger, and a shroud 
 
 The grass looked on the meadow, and there 
 poured 
 
 Out from his laden heart without relief 
 
 This stammering to himself of deadly grief : 
 
82 BLANID. 
 
 " Earth, air, and sun, and moon and star, 
 Of man s strange soul but mirrors are, 
 Bright when the soul is bright, and dark 
 As now, without one saving spark, 
 While the black tides of sorrow flow, 
 And I am suffering and I know { 
 
 " To my sad eyes that sorrow dims 
 The greenest grass the swallow skims, 
 The flowers that once were fair to me, 
 The meadow and the blooming tree, 
 Dark as funereal garments grow, 
 And I am suffering, and I know ! " 
 
 Then stood he up, and, striding to and fro, 
 
 He muttered, " Is she false ? Has she betrayed 
 
 My presence to her sire ? Ah ! no, no, no ! 
 It cannot be ! Her father s spies have played 
 
 Their part within the wood ; and days shall grow 
 To weary moons, and moons in years shall fade, 
 
 Ere I behold her dear face, now she s gone, 
 
 And lost to me for aye !" And he went on : 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 83 
 
 " The measured sounds of dancing feet, 
 The songs of wood-birds wild and sweet, 
 The music of the horn and flute, 
 Of the gold strings of harp and lute, 
 Unheeded all shall come and go, 
 For I am suffering, and I know ! 
 
 " No kindly counsel of a friend 
 With soothing balm the hurt can mend. 
 I walk alone in grief, and make 
 My bitter moan for her dear sake, 
 For loss of love is man s worst woe, 
 And I am suffering, and I know ! 
 
 " Misery, companion dread, 
 Thou art partner of my bed. 
 Soul to soul will you and I 
 Ever on the same couch lie, 
 While life s bitter waters flow, 
 And I am suffering, and I know ! " 
 
8 4 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Then cried he, " Shall I suffer till the hour 
 
 When through the fated wound my soul shall 
 fly? 
 
 Can battlemented walls, or fosse or tower, 
 Or king or vassal, shut her from mine eye ? 
 
 No ! By my hand of valor ! if there s power 
 In sword and spear I 11 win her ere I die ! 
 
 Nor time, nor tide, nor intervening sea, 
 
 Nor bitter wave, shall be a bar to me ! " 
 
 And now he called Lia Macha and bestrode 
 Her bright back with its gay caparison. 
 
 And through the glen and rain-wet forest rode 
 In sorrow, till the river-mouth he won, 
 
 Where lay his long-hulled galley, and where 
 
 glowed 
 The minstrel s robe th embattled poop upon, 
 
 As he sat waiting with his harp, again 
 
 To greet the hero s ears with some blithe strain. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 85 
 
 And when the slant sun lit the waters wide, 
 Lia Macha stood within her brazen stall 
 
 Upon the galley s deck, and by her side 
 Barana whinnied like the gladsome call 
 
 Of friend to friend ; and favoring wind and tide 
 Now turning to the west, the rocky wall 
 
 Of Mana s cliffs they left, and through the spray 
 
 For sad Cuhullin s home they ploughed their 
 way. 
 
 And as the hero sat with gloomy look 
 
 Gazing upon the land where mourned his love, 
 
 Ferkertne without weeping scarce could brook 
 His bitter woe, and with sweet language strove 
 
 To soothe him, but such sorrow ne er forsook 
 Its prey for kindly pleadings. Of the grove 
 
 In Mana and his heart s lost love and pride 
 
 He only thought, and smote his breast and 
 cried : 
 
86 BLANID. 
 
 " Can I think with a heart elate 
 
 Of the looks and the smiles that won me, 
 While the dreadful finger of fate 
 
 With its touch of iron is on me ? 
 When I sleep in my grave alone 
 
 Where the terror of darkness lies, 
 The joy of her voice s tone, 
 
 The glance of her love-lit eyes, 
 
 Will pierce through the earth above me, and bid me arise ! 
 arise ! 
 
 " For the pitiless bitter wave 
 
 Of mine early doom must devour me, 
 But the laurels that deck the grave 
 
 Of the valiant dead will embower me ; 
 And perchance in the years to come, 
 In the fondness of tears and sighs, 
 She may lean o er my lonely tomb, 
 
 Then up to her sobs and cries, 
 
 Through the earth and the tangled grasses, my wakened 
 soul will arise !" 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 87 
 
 Then thought flew after thought on pinions fleet 
 Through his wild brain, and as they darker 
 grew, 
 
 Despair, the obscene bird with taloned feet, 
 Tore at his heart, and every breath he drew 
 
 Seemed fire, until he thought how heroes meet 
 And fall, and then he saw the ghastly dew 
 
 Of death on him, and the black battle-crow 
 
 Perched on him on the red field lying low. 
 
 Then smote he at his breast again, and cried, 
 " Is this the end of all ? Alas ! will she, 
 
 My love ! my love ! no more be at my side 
 
 In the strange land with Gods where I shall 
 be,- 
 
 With Gods and heroes in the angry pride 
 Of a forlorn heart ? Alas ! with me 
 
 Will she abide again ? Perchance she may 
 
 Walk by my side through the eternal day ! " 
 
88 BLANID. 
 
 Now went he where the minstrel sat, and took 
 The harp from him, and with in-gazing eye 
 
 Drew his hand o er the golden strings, and strook 
 A strain, and, as when mid the mountains high 
 
 An eagle questing o er the roaring brook 
 
 Feels through his breast the archer s arrow 
 
 fly, 
 
 With dreadful voice he cries his cry of pain, 
 Darkening the wet gray sands with bloody stain ; 
 
 So rose the hero s wild and fierce lament, 
 
 And the brown sailors heard it, and strong 
 fear 
 
 Fell on them, till the minstrel sighing went 
 And took his hand in his, and said, " The bier 
 
 Holds not thy loved one yet ; and discontent, 
 And grief, and the despair that hath no tear, 
 
 And hath no action, ne er can win thee back 
 
 Thy love across the field that knows no track. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 89 
 
 " Sit by me here upon the poop, and list 
 
 To this my tale of one whom, like thee now, 
 
 Misfortune, the dread hag, had wooed and kissed 
 And lured unto her bed, but whose bright brow 
 
 Sunlike arose from the foul vampire s mist, 
 As thine will yet, when, like my hero, thou, 
 
 Not by weak grief, but deeds of valor bold, 
 
 Shalt win thy love ! " And thus his tale he told : 
 
 THE WINNING OF AMARAC. 
 
 To each man s heart a kingdom fair is given : 
 Mine is girt round by lakes and silver seas 
 
 And green sky-piercing mountains thunder-riven, 
 With forests at their foot and flowery leas ; 
 
 And I can make that kingdom hell or heaven 
 As the fierce winds of passion burn and freeze, 
 
 Or the soft airs of reason waft life s hours 
 
 On silent wings of peace through sun and showers. 
 
90 BLANID. 
 
 Within my kingdom all things are that seem 
 Before the Poet s eye : there sunny lands 
 
 Outspread in glory where bright castles gleam 
 From hill-tops, and beside the golden sands 
 
 Of fairy lake, or sea, or singing stream, 
 Rise palaces wherein the snowy hands 
 
 Of ladies ever young and fair as May 
 
 Weave garlands for the knights who pass the way. 
 
 And there spread fastnesses of rock and wood 
 
 Wherein the tawny lions ramp and roar, 
 And the great bear stalks by the sounding flood, 
 And wild deer graze the moorlands, and the 
 
 boar 
 
 And wolf and fox, as nature made their mood, 
 Come forth and show themselves, and forests 
 hoar 
 
 Teem with bright birds and insects, and all things 
 Of Fairy haunt the brooks and bubbling springs. 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. gj 
 
 And oft I see these fairy beings pass 
 
 Before mine eyes, and oft they sing to me 
 
 Sweet songs, as dancing o er the fragrant 
 
 grass, 
 Flower-garlanded, in royal pageantry 
 
 They crowd some forest meadow, but, alas ! 
 Howe er by wood or stream I hear or see 
 
 These people of the Sid, in heart and brain 
 
 Only some echoes of their songs remain. 
 
 I walked alone within my kingdom fair 
 
 And heard them singing from the branchy 
 side 
 
 Of a wild wood, till the still evening air 
 Pulsed with their music, and the silver tide 
 
 Of a young mountain stream that wimpled there 
 Forgot its murmuring, and the carols died 
 
 Of birds beside the lake, that, listening 
 
 As I did, heard the Spirit People sing : 
 
9 2 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 " O where could we, Spirits, sport in a hollow 
 
 Of vernal beauty so sweet as this, 
 
 Where two streams, meeting, in laughter kiss 
 And sing towards the lake, till the light winds follow, 
 
 Entranced with their music, through sun and shade, 
 Where flies in the first of the spring the swallow 
 
 To his flower that waits in the windy glade ? 
 
 " Here the doves in the tall green pines are cooing, 
 Here the linnet sings from the gorse s gold, 
 And the lark soars high o er the morning wold, 
 
 And the cuckoo comes at the year s renewing, 
 Calling from heaven, Awake ! awake ! 
 
 O flowers and grass, to the South-wind s wooing 
 And the soft rain s kisses by stream and lake ! 
 
 " Here springs our well of the sacred water, 
 
 Here droops o er its crystal the Rowan-Tree 
 
 With its berries red as the red lips be 
 Of the bright-haired Amarac, Fierne s daughter, 
 
 Who sits neath its shadow and calls and cries, 
 From the stricken plain, from the ridge of slaughter, 
 
 Can my love come back ? Can the dead arise ? 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 
 
 93 
 
 Her love : alas ! she loved a mortal knight 
 
 Who from the south and strong Tintagel 
 came, 
 
 Singing upon his harp the deeds of might 
 Wrought by his hand, and ever seeking fame 
 
 With valiant heart in tourney and in fight ; 
 And ladies smiles and warriors loud acclaim 
 
 Met him where er he went, till one still morn 
 
 He woke from sleep neath Fierne s elfin thorn. 
 
 He woke, and looking through the silver mist 
 In which the young dawn wraps itself enwoven 
 
 With films of gold, saw o er him sunrise-kissed 
 Tall pinnacles of rock, and, earthquake-cloven, 
 
 A gorge beneath, a lake of amethyst 
 
 In the reflected light, with rocks uphoven 
 
 Like towers around its brink, save where the 
 dawn 
 
 Faced it, and there outspread a grassy lawn. 
 
94 BLANID. 
 
 And on that lawn, where the sweet waters speed 
 Out from the lake, he saw the snowy kine 
 
 Of Amarac upon the blossoms feed 
 In silence, and beheld the Maid divine 
 
 Standing beside the stream in golden weed, 
 
 Watching the first red beams of morn to 
 shine 
 
 Upon her white-backed herd, when she and they 
 
 Would fade in mist from mortal sight away ! 
 
 He looked and loved ; she looked and loved him, too ; 
 
 But as he rose up from his grassy bed 
 To clasp her to his burning heart, she knew 
 
 Her father s weird was on her, and she fled 
 With her white herd into the lake that, blue 
 
 Like molten sapphire, in a moment spread 
 O er them, with mystic echoes sweetly ringing 
 Round the calm shores ! But hark the Spirits 
 singing ! 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 95 
 
 " To the ends of the earth 
 
 Did the noble knight wander, 
 And the sounds of his mirth 
 
 Were the battle-field s thunder, 
 As he laughed like the Morn in her stormy attire ; 
 And his foemen were scattered as straw in his ire, 
 And he trod on their necks 
 And he clove them asunder 
 And consumed them with fire ! 
 
 " But we followed him far 
 
 As his fierce passion bore him, 
 His moon and his star 
 
 That one image before him ; 
 And in safety he looked upon war s brazen gleam, 
 In safety he slumbered by meadow and stream, 
 For we moved by his side, 
 And our wings fluttered o er him, 
 And we calmed him in dream ! 
 
 " Then we placed in his breast 
 The black Pearl of Sorrow, 
 And his passion s unrest 
 Died away on the morrow, 
 
96 BLANID. 
 
 And we soon lured him back to her mountains, to slake 
 His thirst in our well and her calm crystal lake, 
 
 And to talk with his soul 
 
 That its darkness might borrow 
 Some light for her sake ! " 
 
 Once more he slept, once more he woke, and then 
 Rose from his grassy couch, and ncath a tree 
 
 That drooped its branching glories by the glen, 
 Hid himself till the dawn rose and the lea 
 
 Showed its sward prankt with fresh flowers, and 
 
 again 
 Out from the depths of that small crystal sea 
 
 The snowy-backed and pink-eared cattle came 
 
 With Amarac ene rose the morn s full flame. 
 
 He stept from his concealment, and besought 
 Her love in burning words that brought the tears 
 
 To her compassionate eyes, and gently wrought 
 Within her heart strange yearnings and quick 
 fears ; 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN, 97 
 
 But soon her memory stung her, and distraught 
 With sorrow for his mournfulness, she nears 
 The margent of the lake, and with her kine 
 Under its waters hides her head divine. 
 
 He dropt upon the grass, as one whom dead 
 A lance-but strikes in battle, and he lay 
 
 Neath the tree s shadow on the moist cold bed 
 Of grass and flowers, until the glorious day 
 
 Reached the blue lake from the bright mountain 
 
 head ; 
 Then sprang he on his steed, and went his way 
 
 Through the wide world redressing sin and wrong 
 
 With harp and sword. But hark the Spirits song ! 
 
 FIRST SPIRIT. 
 
 " Where the vapors thicken 
 Through the city s ways, 
 And the people sicken 
 
 In the poisoned blaze 
 5 c 
 
98 BLANID. 
 
 Of the sun that rots the swamp, 
 There beside the failing lamp 
 Of the lowly and the stricken 
 He hath stood to cheer and quicken 
 With his harp life s dying rays ! 
 
 SECOND SPIRIT. 
 
 " Where tyrants darkened the light 
 
 In the hearts of mankind 
 With the tortures of famine and blight 
 And the shackles that bind, 
 There his broad pennon streamed to the wind 
 
 And the weak ones arose and followed, 
 And the strength of the tyrants melted away, 
 Like the blood-red eve of a stormy day, 
 In the jaws of the battle swallowed ! 
 
 FIRST SPIRIT. 
 
 " He turned in a waking dream 
 
 From the home of the rising morn, 
 Lured by her deep eyes gleam 
 To the land where his love was born ; 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULUN. 99 
 
 And no doorway of joy would ope, 
 
 No cloud from his soul depart, 
 Till the gold-bright Pearl of Hope 
 
 We placed o er his loving heart. 
 Then his harp-strings rang by the river 
 
 And his voice upswelled by the shore, 
 Till the leaves o er his long plume quiver 
 
 By the stream and the lake once more." 
 
 Again he watched and waited : by his side 
 
 He held his gold-stringed harp, and stooping 
 
 stood 
 Neath the embowering leaves that near the 
 
 tide 
 Drooped and concealed him, till the many- 
 
 hued 
 Young Dawn arose, and ere the rabbit spied 
 
 Her favorite bloom-beds, and the callow brood 
 Of the wild duck awoke, upon the mead 
 Came Amarac her snowy kine to feed. 
 
100 BLANID. 
 
 And now he touched his harp, and soft and low 
 The strings spoke to his fingers, and anear 
 
 The kine drew in the ever-brightening glow 
 
 Of the calm dawn, while one, unknown to 
 fear, 
 
 The infant of the herd, with footsteps slow 
 
 Came nigher still, and stood with raptured ear, 
 
 As if she ne er again cared to behold 
 
 The buttercups that turned her teeth to gold. 
 
 And still the sweet strings spoke, and nearer yet 
 To the green tree the large-eyed listener drew 
 
 With dainty footsteps that scarce seemed to fret 
 From the young flowers and grass the diamond 
 dew. 
 
 Then stooped the player ; down his harp he set 
 Beside the tree, and from his ambush flew 
 
 And grasped the bright-backed offspring of the morn 
 
 By one pink ear and by one budding horn ! 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. IQI 
 
 A hurrying by the lakelet and a cry ! , 
 
 A sparkle in his eyes ! No more, no more 
 
 He held his little captive ; with a sigh" 
 
 He turned, and on the meadow s blossomed floor 
 
 His love stood near the stream -bank bright and 
 
 shy 
 As a young sea-gull on some sunny shore, 
 
 And spoke to him. " O love ! " she said, " O love ! 
 
 O dear one, well thy fealty thou dost prove ! 
 
 " O dear beloved one, I weep for thee, 
 
 I ve wept and weep for thee, but not in vain, 
 
 And I will seek this spot and hallowed tree 
 
 And yearn for thee and think of all thy 
 pain ! 
 
 But go, beloved ; the Rovers of the sea 
 Fasten upon thy land their cruel chain ; 
 
 One trial more, until thy land rejoices 
 
 At thy best deed ! " But hark the Spirit voices ! 
 
102 BLAXID. 
 
 FIRST SPIRIT. 
 
 He went forth like a meteor of morning, and the rocks 
 
 felt the hoofs of his steed, 
 He tore through the fords of the rivers, and he furrowed 
 
 the swards with his speed, 
 And the lances that gathered around him were thick as 
 
 the larches that shake 
 
 In the broad shaggy woods of Bengara, when the whirl 
 wind sweeps down from the lake ; 
 And his shout was the cry of the eagle, and his charge 
 
 was the shock of the sea 
 When it rolls with its tide and its tempest and swallows 
 
 the sands ; and the tree 
 Of his long spear uplifted his pennon like the terror of the 
 
 moon in eclipse, 
 Till it fluttered in the winds of his triumph and the foemen 
 
 fell back to their ships ; 
 But alas for the broad -barbed arrow and its swift path of 
 
 woe through his side, 
 And the bowstring of fury that winged it ere the last of 
 
 the red Rovers died ! 
 
 SECOND SPIRIT. 
 
 His soul soared high o er the battle wrack, 
 
 But we hovered around her and brought her back, 
 
THE DESPAIR OF CUHULLIN. 
 
 103 
 
 Brought her back through the passage narrow, 
 The bitter road of the barbed arrow, 
 And we opened his eyes, and he looked around 
 On the ruined things of the foughten ground, 
 And we saw in his quick-returning sense 
 His life s fair purpose and thought intense ; 
 And we scattered the clouds of his battle-swound, 
 And we placed her gift on his ruddy wound, 
 Her heart s bright treasure, all gifts above, 
 The rose-red Pearl of perfect love ! 
 
 I hear a horse-tramp echoing from the dell ! 
 
 He comes gay glittering up the ferny pass ! 
 I see bright Amarac beside the well 
 
 Trembling, till in a gleam of gold and brass 
 He leaps from his strong steed ! Ah ! who can 
 tell 
 
 Their happiness ? The flowers amid the grass 
 Laughed brighter, and the birds sang by the shore 
 To see these lovers meet and part no more ! 
 
IO4 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 " What think st thou now, O mournful one ? Can 
 this, 
 
 Thy morn of life unclouded all glide on ? 
 See what things happed to mar my hero s bliss, 
 
 And how with hopeful heart he fought and won, 
 Won even his love, his love so sure to miss, 
 
 So hard to win ! And now life s currents run 
 Against thee, yet keep high thy heart, and ne er 
 Let black misfortune bring thee to despair ! " 
 
 Next eve, with grateful heart and farewells kind, 
 The minstrel southward rode, and for his train 
 
 Two pages took, and three young steeds the wind 
 Could not outstrip, three hounds with bell and 
 chain, 
 
 Three hawks of Guydilod ; yet in his mind 
 A dark unrest grew and a secret pain, 
 
 Thinking what cureless woes this love might bring 
 
 To strong Cuhullin, Blanid, and his King! 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 
 
 105 
 
 THE TAKING OF MANA. 
 
 O AID Mora in the garden, " He is gone ! 
 
 But fear thou not, for in the hall to-day 
 As the great storm subsided, I asked one 
 About thy love who in the ambush lay, 
 And he replied, Some bright God by the Sun 
 Sent down to earth he seemed, as in the ray 
 Of lightning he rushed through us, and his shout 
 Worse than the thunder was and storm s wild 
 rout ! 
 5* 
 
I0 6 BLANID. 
 
 "What think st thou now of love ?" Then Blanid kept 
 Her glance fixed on the ground awhile, and wrung 
 
 Her lovely hands, and with wild passion wept 
 As though her heart would burst, but from her 
 tongue 
 
 No answer came ; while Mora nigh her crept 
 And kissed her cheek and said, " The bards have 
 sung 
 
 Thy fame throughout the world, and thinkest thou 
 
 That he 11 forget ? that he forsakes thee now ? 
 
 " I know not love, but yet I know fond eyes ! 
 
 And each sad morn when thou from him didst part, 
 O mistress fair, I marked his tear-drops rise 
 
 And his great bosom heave, and saw him dart 
 Sweet glances back on thee ; and as for sighs, 
 
 He sighed as doth the merchant for his mart 
 Of jewels, when mid wrath and pillage born 
 The robbers come and leave him all forlorn. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 107 
 
 
 
 " Who sighs like him will ne er his love desert, 
 But, like my brother, when his bride he sought, 
 
 The fair Brigantian, Nera ; as thou wert 
 
 These days she was, she loved him, till she 
 brought 
 
 Upon his head her father s ire ; begirt 
 
 For war my brother sailed the sea and fought 
 
 For love and Nera, and with sword and fire 
 
 And fifty galleys reft her from her sire. 
 
 " So he will come and take thee, and when I, 
 In other days, shall grow to womanhood, 
 
 Some lovely lord with heart and courage high 
 May spread his sails and plough the salty flood 
 
 And win me for his bride, and when I die 
 
 May weep for me ! " Then up the bright one 
 stood, 
 
 Folding the Chatterer in her fondling arms, 
 
 Half comforted and cured of love s alarms. 
 
108 BLANID. 
 
 And still increased her fame : on winged feet 
 Rumor danced round the world with cap and 
 bells, 
 
 Jangling his foolish music wild and sweet 
 
 All in her praise, from courts where empire dwells 
 
 In glory, to the babbling village street, 
 
 Casting o er all a glamour of strange spells, 
 
 Till no man s head or heart or soul was free, 
 
 And the world bound in love s strong slavery. 
 
 Then rose throughout the lands a threatening hum, 
 Man s savage growl to taste forbidden fruit, 
 
 And those who in her presence erst were dumb, 
 Or wooed her with sweet songs of harp and lute, 
 
 Now set their passions free, grew venturesome 
 With bloody sword and spear to press their 
 suit, 
 
 And leagued and schemed till their invading sails 
 
 Shadowed the deep and swallowed all the gales. 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 
 
 109 
 
 And like thick flocks of gulls that from afar 
 
 Strain landward in white myriads when the storms 
 
 Out on the ocean wage their thundering war, 
 From northern coasts the slant sun scarcely 
 warms, 
 
 From east and west, from neath the southern star, 
 From continent and sea-beat isle, in swarms, 
 
 With sails spread wide and pennons flying gay, 
 
 The mustering ships thronged bright Dun Dalgan s 
 bay/ 
 
 From far Hispanian mountain crests that lower 
 
 Over the wallowing bay of Biscany, 
 Batanjos came with all his vassal power 
 
 In twelve long galleys laboring up the sea, 
 His prow a Wolf, his ensign a high Tower, 
 
 His men in armor glittering barbarously ; 
 Fierce were their looks and savage was their speech 
 Like growling of wild waves on Lora s beach. 
 
1 10 BLANID. 
 
 Next from strong Gallia s shores Toutillos came 
 Whose conquering sword oft crossed the Roman 
 blade. 
 
 The heart that throbbed within his mighty frame 
 Was love-sick now at thought of that fair maid ; 
 
 His followers trod the decks with eyes of flame, 
 And flashing arms, and heavy helms arrayed 
 
 With head-skins of great beasts whose gorgon look 
 
 The weak beholder s heart with terror shook. 
 
 From where the Sea Ploughers bored the glistening 
 sod 
 
 For ores by toppling crags of Cornuaille, 
 Stout Penon came with ensign flying broad 
 
 And gilded pine-tree mast and silken sail 
 Phoenician-like ; the, lord of Guydilod, 
 
 Mathonwy, in his plumes and painted mail, 
 Across the tumbling waves behind him bore 
 With seven tall ships from wild Brigantia s shore. 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 
 
 Like a fierce sea-hawk from its savage nest, 
 Down from the woody shores of Caledon, 
 
 Dara was there in ruffling tartans drest 
 With shining eagle plumes his helm* upon ; 
 
 With him five chiefs the self-same amorous quest 
 Sought from their windy homes where billows 
 run 
 
 With ceaseless clamor loud before the breeze 
 
 Of Orkney and the wave-worn Hebrides. 
 
 From stern Norwegian valleys, well bedight 
 In armor of stout bull-hide studded o er 
 
 With scale of brass and boss of silver bright, 
 Tall Broder came with nine ships, and the 
 shore 
 
 Resounded like strong thunder in the night, 
 As his fierce followers with loud uproar 
 
 Leaped from the bulwarks knee-deep in the wave, 
 
 And to the strand in long lines shouting drave. 
 
112 BLANID. 
 
 And Erin sent her lords and chiefs of pride, 
 
 Their valiant hearts by love s enchantment 
 led, 
 
 From coasts where morn salutes Kilmantan s side, 
 To Mizzen and Kinsala s ancient head ; 
 
 From west and north, to where with sunset dyed, 
 Ben Borka seeks the stars o er ocean s bed, 
 
 And inland from the mighty flood that drains 
 
 Heberian hills and Heremonian plains. 
 
 Now on the gathered ships slow fell the night, 
 And the sky oped o er earth her jewelled page, 
 
 And in Dun Dalgan s hall of festive light 
 
 The thronging warriors met for council sage ; 
 
 Over their heads the white lamps glittered bright 
 On arms that oft had stemmed the battle s 
 rage, 
 
 On brazen harnesses and helms of gold 
 
 And flags and trophies of the days of old. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 
 
 And fast the goblets flowed, and clear and sweet 
 The minstrels on their harps began to play, 
 
 While heroic poems flowing rhythmic feet 
 
 Danced from their mouths, and many a shorter 
 
 lay 
 
 Of love was sung with heavenly joy would greet 
 
 The dullest ear, till in his bright array 
 Of war upstood the Gaul, Toutillos strong, 
 And thus in soldier s words addressed the throng : 
 
 " Comrades ! some hero must command this quest 
 Over us all for high achievement good, 
 
 Some man of wondrous soul whom all the rest 
 Can follow, and, if fate wills, wade through 
 blood 
 
 For honor and for love ; and in my breast 
 On the high place one hero long hath stood, 
 
 Brjghter than all by fame s effulgence lit, 
 
 Cuhullin, in whose bannered hall we sit ! " 
 
 u 
 
BLANID. 
 
 Then turned he to Dun Dalgan s lord. "To thee, 
 
 Strongest of heroes, prince of high renown, 
 And topmost flower of valor s stately tree, 
 
 I give my voice, and droop my pennon down ; 
 
 \ 
 Her father was thy dead sire s enemy, 
 
 Then do thou lead, and bright success shall 
 
 crown 
 
 Our enterprise ! " And through the echoing hall 
 Assent the heroes shouted one and all. 
 
 Now stately rose Cuhullin : " O brave peers, 
 I may not say ye nay, the more that I 
 
 Have seen her, that these glad, enraptured ears 
 Heard her delightful voice in days gone by ; 
 
 But ere we win her, many a grove of spears 
 
 And many a man and cloven shield shall 
 lie 
 
 Along the smoking breaches as we cross 
 
 With victor feet her castle s circling fosse 1 " 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 115 
 
 And so it fell that ere the jewels red 
 
 That deck Dawn s golden sandals lit the 
 
 sky, 
 Raising the anchors from their oozy bed 
 
 The sailors their strong cables gan to ply. 
 And as the sun upraised his burning head 
 
 Over the bulging waves, afar and nigh, 
 Scattered along the breezy waters free, 
 The great fleet sailed for Mana of the Sea. 
 
 Deep in a vale the Hold of Mana stood, 
 
 Where many a dell with falling streamlets rang, 
 
 Where trees their blossomy raiments from each 
 
 wood 
 
 Flaunted, and all day long the wild-birds sang; 
 
 Yet not so far from Ocean s restless flood 
 
 But one might smell the salt and hear the clang 
 
 Of sea-birds and the muffled sound of waves 
 
 Rumbling in hollow thunder through the caves. 
 
1 16 BLANID. 
 
 Far other sounds that castle soon shall hear 
 
 Than songs of birds and murmurs of sweet 
 streams, 
 
 From iron rams rock-splintering, ponderous gear, 
 From catapults loud-clashing chains and beams ; 
 
 Yet little does the old King fret or fear, 
 
 But sits from day to day like one in dreams 
 
 Of great exploits and actions to be done 
 
 When the strong leaguer draws his hold upon. 
 
 What should he fear within his lordly hold, 
 Through middle air by magic might uphurled, 
 
 Built by his foresire, Mananan, of old, 
 A wonder and a glory to the world ? 
 
 Three giant walls its broad girth did enfold, 
 
 Three shining fosses like great serpents 
 curled 
 
 Between them, by three brazen bridges spanned, 
 
 With brazen gates wrought by no earthly hand. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 
 
 Tween the two outward fosses and high walls 
 Laughing in light the lovely garden spread, 
 
 One fair expanse of bloom, with waterfalls 
 And singing runnels from the fountain fed ; 
 
 There lived no noisome thing that creeps or crawls, 
 There glad birds sang with notes would wake 
 the dead, 
 
 And flowers of every clime and every hue 
 
 In nurtured bed or glade of wildness grew. 
 
 High o er the towered walls twelve faces bright 
 To the green woods that castle did display, 
 
 Whereon the figures of the Months were dight 
 With cunning art in wonderful array ; 
 
 There was chill January clad in white, 
 And February sullen, cold and gray, 
 
 And March would through the budding green 
 woods go, 
 
 A blustering boy with bright face all aglow. 
 
BLANID. 
 
 There April stepped the daisied pastures through 
 In azure gown with girlish smile most sweet, 
 
 Pale pansies, primroses, and violets blue 
 Sprang up where er she set her dainty feet ; 
 
 And May, her laughing sister, seemed she 
 
 flew 
 Over the spangled meads in joy to greet 
 
 Bright June, the lovely queen of all the flowers, 
 
 Enthroned amid her ever-blooming bowers. 
 
 And there was strong July, the lusty swain, 
 
 Knee-deep amidst the new-mown meadow grass, 
 
 And August, jolly farmer, on his wain 
 Of golden corn by orchards ripe did pass, 
 
 One hand upon the poppy-wreathed rein, 
 
 One beckoning to a brown-cheeked country 
 lass, 
 
 Buxom September, bright-eyed, rose-lipped, clad 
 
 In russet not too gay and not too sad. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 119 
 
 Next like the remnant of a kingly man 
 
 October mid the brown woods brooding came ; 
 
 Him followed, as though neath some withering ban, 
 November sour, a wrinkled spitfire dame, 
 
 Then he whose steps had reached life s farthest 
 
 span, 
 Hoary December, wheezing, hobbling, lame, 
 
 Bent double o er his crutch and very lean, 
 
 And all but dead from palsy, pains, and spleen ! 
 
 High towering o er these wondrous imageries 
 Shot up a world of gilded dome and vane, 
 
 Pinnet and fretted roof, like phantasies 
 
 That run at full moon through a madman s 
 brain ; 
 
 And could you through its crystal galleries 
 
 And golden halls and bowers hear fitting strain, 
 
 One long-drawn dream of glory none could tell 
 
 
 Would hold you many an hour beneath its spell ! 
 
120 BLANID. 
 
 Within the garden on the fragrant grass 
 
 Sat Blanid with her bower-maid at the noon 
 
 Of a still day, and made the fond hours pass 
 With talk of love, the ever-living boon 
 
 Of the almighty Gods, that yet, alas! 
 
 Oft treads upon our souls with angry shoon ; 
 
 And Blanid said, " I know, howe er it be, 
 
 That some great horror now approacheth me ! 
 
 " Rumor is busy now, and tells his tale 
 
 This way and that, how cross the heaving brine 
 
 For Mana s shore each ship of war doth sail 
 That e er was built ; and what joy can be mine, 
 
 Well knowing that ev n here shall rise our wail 
 Some day for my sire s loss, that we shall 
 pine 
 
 Captives of some dread lord whose looks shall 
 lower 
 
 And slay us as the east wind slays the flower ? " 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 121 
 
 " What fearest thou," said Mora, " of thy doom ? 
 
 The minstrels sing thy lover s praises loud ; 
 One look from his kind eyes will chase the 
 gloom 
 
 That chills thy heart. Remember ye are vowed 
 Soul unto soul forever. He will come, 
 
 And, like the royal eagle from the cloud 
 Midst little hawks contending for the prey, 
 He 11 swoop and bear thee to his home away ! " 
 
 But nathless Blanid wept, and in her grief 
 
 Asked for the lute, and said, "To yonder 
 dell 
 
 Go thou and bring me dewy flower and leaf 
 Of roses, that unwitnessed I may tell 
 
 Some thoughts unto my love, for no reprief 
 My heart lias in his absence ! " By the well 
 
 She sat alone, her blue eyes rilled with tears, 
 
 And sang unto her love her hopes and fears : 
 6 
 
I22 BLANW. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " I walk in dreams mid heavenly hills, 
 I hear the music of their rills, 
 Their wild-birds sing, their zephyrs play, 
 In greenwoods of eternal May. 
 
 " I see their morn and sunset gleams 
 Far glittering over lakes and streams, 
 Where happy spirits born to love 
 Disport by fragrant bank and grove. 
 
 " Amidst those spirits everywhere, 
 By lake and stream and forest fair, 
 With gladsome heart, with sweet surprise, 
 I see thee and thy smiling eyes. 
 
 " And as I feel thy radiant glance, 
 My fears retreat, my hopes advance, 
 The hemlock, grief, hath lost its bane, 
 The rose of joy is mine again. 
 
 " Then oh ! perchance these visions come 
 As messengers from some fair home, 
 Some world of bliss and constancy 
 Bright after death for you and me ! " 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 123 
 
 " O love ! O love ! " she cried, " couldst thou stand 
 by us 
 
 On the dark day of doom that comes so fast, 
 In glorious wage of war the world might try us 
 
 And reap defeat and ruin, and, aghast 
 With terror at thy hand of valor, fly us, 
 
 But ah ! my sire, relentless to the last ! 
 He will not see my tears, or hear thy suit, 
 But thirsts for vengeance and war s bitter fruit ! " 
 
 By this young Mora from the dell of flowers 
 
 Came with one hand beneath her robe, and said, 
 
 " I Ve roamed and searched around the white-rose 
 
 bowers 
 But found none fit for thee, nor through the red : 
 
 At last I reached a sward of sun and showers 
 Whereshone these lovely blooms I broughtinstead, 
 
 These gems that deck the garden s fairy spots, 
 
 Wild hyacinths and sweet forget-me-nots." 
 
124 BLANID. 
 
 And then she bared her nimble hand and laughed, 
 And, holding up the flowers, said, " Here they 
 are ! 
 
 These blue-bells, in the gentle poet s craft 
 Emblems of constancy, and, dearer far, 
 
 These beautiful forget-me-nots that quaffed 
 The cool dew when the blinking morning star 
 
 Rose o er the hill ! Here, take them, and be sure 
 
 As that thou It kiss them his love will endure ! " 
 
 And Blanid took the flowers and in their bloom 
 Buried her rosy mouth. " Ah ! well I see," 
 
 Then Mora cried, " how thy bright eyes illume 
 One for remembrance, one for constancy ! 
 
 But sit thee down. No more of grief and gloom ! 
 Give me the lute and I will sine: to thee 
 
 o 
 
 The song that Tiernan made for me and taught 
 
 me 
 With the first bright forget-me-nots he brought me! 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 125 
 
 FORGET ME NOT. 
 
 " The East Wind sprang into a lovely place, 
 And cried, I 11 slay the flowers and leave no trace 
 
 Of all their blooming in this happy spot ! 
 And, as before his breath the sweet flowers died, 
 One little bright-eyed blossom moaned and cried, 
 
 1 woods ! forget me not ! forget me not ! 
 
 " O woods of waving trees ! O living streams ! 
 In all your noontide joys and starry dreams, 
 
 Let me, for love, let me be unforgot ! 
 O birds that sing your carols while I die, 
 O list to me ! O hear my piteous cry ! 
 
 Forget me not ! alas ! forget me not ! 
 
 " And the Gods heard her plaint and swept away 
 The bitter-fanged, strong East Wind from his prey, 
 
 And smiled upon the flower and changed her lot, 
 So now that, as we mark her azure leaf, 
 We think of life and love and parting grief, 
 
 And sigh, * Forget me not ! forget me not ! 
 
126 BLANID. 
 
 And thus the hours were passed, while to their shore 
 Over the waters wide the ships drew near, 
 
 Propelled by favoring wind and sturdy oar 
 
 And thronged with valiant hearts that knew not 
 fear, 
 
 Plying, as to some stricken field of gore 
 
 The prey-birds haste from rocks and deserts drear, 
 
 With hungry eyes and eager wings outspread, 
 
 To raven and to batten on the dead ! 
 
 Mongst wonders told by hardy sailor folk 
 Who from hot climes their way of peril win, 
 
 Some monstrous spider, just as morn has broke, 
 O er a cave s mouth his treacherous web doth 
 spin, 
 
 To wrap round robber wasps the fatal yoke, 
 And flies and gilded gnats to catch therein, 
 
 So sat the old King in his halls and planned 
 
 Death to the coming raiders of his land ! 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 127 
 
 At length it happed that, as one morn he chose 
 To view his manned walls, with sour look and 
 fell 
 
 He saw the glancing banners of his foes 
 Rising and falling with the ocean swell 
 
 Over the bay, and, as next morn arose, 
 
 From clouds of dust that choked the forest 
 dell 
 
 Flashed hostile sword and helm and bright cuirass 
 
 And many an iron spear and shield of brass ! 
 
 And like some orient grove that all in bloom 
 Nods its tall blossoms to the swaying breeze, 
 
 With myriad mantles gay, with crest and plume, 
 With fluttering flags and war s best braveries, 
 
 Emerging from the dusky valley s womb, 
 From forest path and pass, his enemies 
 
 Over the open meads, far shining, wound, 
 
 Encompassing his stronghold round and round ! 
 
128 BLANID. 
 
 Ere the hot sun had set, their ordered camp, 
 White tent and silk pavilion, gleamed like gold 
 
 Smit by his rays, and tramp re-echoed tramp 
 Of sentinels around the glittering wold ; 
 
 And on the castle walls, when rose night s lamp, 
 Her silvery rays glimmered with radiance cold 
 
 On swords and spear-points thick as autumn 
 corn 
 
 Ready for fight and waiting for the morn. 
 
 And when the next sun s life-inspiring rays 
 
 Smote the moist meads and dried the pearly dew, 
 
 A herald, his gay tabard all ablaze 
 
 With broideries rich, slow toward the castle 
 drew 
 
 And halted nigh the fosse, his fearless gaze 
 Bent on the foe awhile ; then shrilly blew 
 
 His trumpeter three warning blasts, and then 
 
 He spoke his message unto Mana s men. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 129 
 
 Prompt to the message came the thundering clang 
 Of a great arblast s chain, and then down bore 
 
 A bolt that through the bright air whizzed and 
 
 sang, 
 And nigh their feet the sunny greensward tore ; 
 
 High o er the grass the trumpeter upsprang 
 And turned his back and fled in panic sore, 
 
 The haughty herald pacing slow behind 
 
 With stately step and unperturbed mind ! 
 
 Whereat, along the weapon-bristling walls 
 
 Pealed a great laugh that made the valleys ring, 
 
 And from the camp uprose the captains calls, 
 With clash of arms and noise of marshalling, 
 
 Till from the forest s sunny intervals 
 
 Out rushed the hosts in long lines glittering, 
 
 With shout and threatening clang, and many a 
 note 
 
 Defiant from the trumpet s brazen throat. 
 6* i 
 
130 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Then javelins sang their death-songs as they flew 
 With sharp, shrill clangor swift from foes to 
 foes, 
 
 And clouds of feathered darts obscured the blue, 
 Huge engines thundered and great cries arose ; 
 
 And louder and more wild the clamor grew, 
 As when a storm at morn begins and blows 
 
 With gathering fury, till, ere night s dull shade, 
 
 The tall trees of the forest low are laid. 
 
 So fought they, till the broad fosse deep and calm 
 Was bridged with dead, and o er that weapon-gored 
 
 And ghastly ridge, the incessant thundering ram 
 A yawning breach through the outward ballium 
 bored : 
 
 Then towering o er his men, as towers a palm 
 O er the tall forest-trees, Dun Dalgan s lord 
 
 Shouted his battle-cry, and with firm tread 
 
 The fierce assault o er the red ruin led. 
 
THE TAKING. OF MAN A. 131 
 
 High were their valiant hearts as they rushed in 
 And planked the second fosse with small delay, 
 
 Haling between them the remorseless gin 
 
 That through the second ballium tore its way; 
 
 Then rose above the high walls such a din 
 As thunder makes, when on an autumn day 
 
 The trembling wanderer hears its earthquake tone 
 
 Rattling behind the ridgy hills of stone. 
 
 Hard fought the heroes in that bold attack 
 
 With all that men could do of bravery : 
 Twice were they driven the bloody breaches back, 
 Thrice inward drave as rolls Toth s plunging 
 
 sea 
 Tween Skerry s Rocks, and with hearts nothing 
 
 slack 
 
 Of valiance, breast to breast, and knee to knee, 
 Fighting they held the vantage they had won, 
 Till on the turmoil sank the blood-red sun. 
 
132 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 As a young vestal with the sacred flame 
 
 Lights the gemmed arches of some temple dome, 
 
 The moon from pearl-bright bowers then upward 
 
 came, 
 Flooding the heavens with light as on she clomb : 
 
 On hills and lakes and woods she writ her name, 
 Queen of repose, and her calm smilesbrought home 
 
 Quiet to marshalled camp and guarded hold, 
 
 Till Morn awoke and shook her locks of gold. 
 
 Then rose again the clang, the shout, the cry 
 Of war from inward fosse and outward pale, 
 
 And fast again the arrowy showers did fly 
 
 From twanging bows thick as the rattling hail 
 
 From thundering cloud and lightning-litten sky, 
 And shields were split, and riven breast and 
 mail 
 
 Gave forth the souls of heroes, till the night 
 
 Lowered o er the woods, and still the clamorous fight 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 133 
 
 Raged round the castle with redoubled roar 
 
 Through all the long and lonesome hours of dark, 
 
 As roll Moyle s wallowing billows on the shore 
 Mixed with the mariners cries ; and still their 
 mark 
 
 The axe and red glaive made of steaming gore 
 On many a hero s front, until the lark 
 
 Sang his thin song from heavenly meadows sweet 
 
 Bright with the radiance of Dawn s rosy feet. 
 
 And still the battle raged. Of great deeds done 
 By strong Toutillos, Penon, and their peers 
 
 What need to tell ? How Mana s heroes won 
 High names of bright renown for after years ; 
 
 How from the clashing catapults out spun 
 
 The whizzing bolts through groves of splintering 
 spears, 
 
 Till the hot noon, when th inner ballium broke 
 
 Before the cruel ram s earth-shaking stroke. 
 
134 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Then, as Dun Dalgan s lord prepared to cross, 
 Beside the breach rose an unearthly sound 
 
 From a huge wheel gray with ten centuries moss 
 That now gan turning slowly round and round, 
 
 Until the weeds and waters of the fosse 
 
 With ever-growing speed it churned and ground, 
 
 While round the echoing walls the watchword 
 ran 
 
 Of " Gaily speed thy wheel, O Mananan ! " 
 
 For there twas set in ages long gone by 
 
 By Mananan, the Ruler of the sea, 
 With many a magic rite the wall anigh, 
 
 Better than stone a triple fence to be, 
 And thus within they raised their triumph cry 
 
 To Mananan, and clashed their shields in glee 
 To see the wheel s tremendous vans below 
 Smite the red fosse with many a sounding 
 blow ; 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 135 
 
 To see the broad fosse once as smooth as glass 
 Driven in a tide no mortal power could stay, 
 
 That almost choked the shuddering bridge of 
 
 brass 
 
 With whirling watery torrents white with 
 spray ! 
 
 It was a. stream no living wight could pass, 
 And thus, as smote the sun s retiring ray 
 
 In red effulgence upon land and main 
 
 The heroes met for council once again. 
 
 \ 
 With fierce eyes full of baffled rage and care 
 
 And burning heart each hero told his need, 
 Till all had spoken, yet no man would dare 
 
 To tempt the magic tide s devouring speed ; 
 Then midst them suddenly were they aware 
 
 Of a tall warrior clad in brazen weed, 
 Whose voice from out his hollow helmet broke 
 Like a strong torrent s rumbling as he spoke : 
 
136 BLANID. 
 
 " O valiant ones ! the yawning breach is red 
 
 With many a brave man s blood, but all in 
 vain, 
 
 For o er the whirling moat may no man tread, 
 The castle s shield of safety and your bane ! 
 
 Yet here am I, and by my father s head, 
 And by the Sun and Wind, I swear to gain 
 
 Your passage to the hold, if you decree 
 
 The brightest jewel there my choice to be ! 
 
 " See ye this magic spear ? With its strong 
 aid 
 
 Can we alone the castle overthrow ; 
 By a great Danaan smith of old twas made 
 
 With many a potent spell against the foe 
 And one against its master : when its blade 
 
 Is raised to strike, and strikes not a sure blow, 
 Stayed by one thrill of fear, it hath the charm 
 To wither for a moon the coward arm. 
 
THE TAKING OF MAN A. 
 
 " Then first at morn when the red sunbeams spring 
 O er the whale s restless home, again fall on, 
 
 For I would hear the bolts of iron swing 
 
 From the strong arblasts, and the shout and 
 groan 
 
 Of heroes, and the rattling javelins ring 
 
 On the hard mail, and crash of falling stone 
 
 From the high walls the earth around me shake, 
 
 To swell this heart such deed to undertake ! " 
 
 And so it was : and as the earth was dight 
 By the glad Morn in robes of pearl and gold, 
 
 The great sun s eye unblinking saw the fight 
 Rage once again around that stubborn hold : 
 
 And myriad deeds were done of matchless 
 
 might 
 In that stern fray, and myriad heroes bold 
 
 Slept the long glorious slumber of the brave 
 
 Beneath their earthen mounds by Mana s wave. 
 
1 38 BLANID. 
 
 There many a man s dim closing eye was cast 
 In wonder at the strange Knight s glittering 
 form, 
 
 His spear-shaft sloped, like a tall galley s mast 
 Bent slantwise by the buffets of the storm, 
 
 As with grim frowning brows and footsteps fast 
 Along the breach with heroes heart-blood warm, 
 
 Mid showers of bolts and darts, like Crom the God 
 
 Of Thunder, toward the magic wheel he trod. 
 
 Now paused he for a space and looked, when, 
 lo! 
 
 Between him and the fosse erstwhile so near, 
 There spread a stricken war-field, where the glow 
 
 Fell lurid upon broken sword and spear ; 
 And from a reedy marsh a javelin s throw 
 
 Upon his right crept forth a thing of fear, 
 A serpent vast, with crested head, and coils 
 Would crush ten battle chargers. Like the spoils 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 
 
 139 
 
 Of a great city gleamed his spotted back 
 
 As from the trembling reeds his volumes rolled, 
 
 Wide spread, approaching o er the tangled wrack 
 Of battle, his bright head now flashing gold, 
 
 Now red, now green, now sapphire. On his track 
 The hero stood in wrath, and with firm hold 
 
 Raised high the spear that from his right hand sped 
 
 Down crashing through the monster s burnished 
 head. 
 
 As he plucked forth his spear and still strode on, 
 Out from behind a heap of slain there rose 
 
 A dreadful beast with eyes that gleamed and 
 
 shone 
 In fury, like the eyes of one of those 
 
 Twin Dragons of the Strife that ever run 
 Beside the feet of Bava when she goes 
 
 From the bright Mount of Monad with the brand 
 
 Of war far flaring in her armed hand. 
 
140 BLANID. 
 
 So flashed the beast s wild eyes, while o er the dead 
 He rushed to meet his foe ; as he drew nigh 
 
 Uprose the glittering shaft and spear-point dread 
 And then shot forth, and mid the fire-bright 
 eye 
 
 Pierced him through brain and body, on the bed 
 Of war transfixing him ; then rising high 
 
 The hero loosed his spear, and mid the slain 
 
 Left him still writhing, and strode forth again. 
 
 And, as he went, there rose at every rood 
 Some monster dire his onward course to stay 
 
 To the dread wheel, but through the demon brood 
 He fearless broke, until before him lay 
 
 A river whirling by of streaming blood. 
 
 Shouting he plunged therein, and made his 
 way 
 
 Up the far bank, and raising high his spear 
 
 Strode onward still across that field of fear. 
 
THE TAKING OF MANA. 
 
 141 
 
 Then rose from off the blood-stained fern a 
 shape 
 
 Tall, threatening, with a crown upon his head, 
 Bright clad in gold and brass from heel to nape 
 
 Of sturdy neck, and with a mantle red 
 Wind-blown, that let the dazzling flashes scape 
 
 Of the strong mail, as now with onward tread 
 He strode, and raised his giant arm in wrath, 
 To the great wheel to stop the hero s path ; 
 
 The hero who, now pausing, looked, and there 
 Under the crown saw his dead father s face 
 
 Approaching with fell frowning, ghastly stare 
 Against him : yet no whit the hero s pace 
 
 Was checked thereat ; on high his spear he bare 
 And pierced the Phantom s breast, and all the 
 place 
 
 Was empty now, and by the fosse s marge 
 
 He felt the mortal arrows smite his targe. 
 
142 
 
 BLAN1D. 
 
 Then stood he like a tower and poised his spear, 
 And lightning-like the fateful weapon flung, 
 
 And lodged it in the wheel s loud-roaring gear, 
 Firm fixed in the huge plank whereon twas 
 hung; 
 
 No more the fosse whirled round with tide of fear, 
 No more the magic engine thundering rung : 
 
 Still as a frozen mill-wheel now it lay, 
 
 And through the last breach open was the way. 
 
 No minstrel s tongue, or taught in heaven or hell, 
 Whate er of pearls of price his harp adorn, 
 
 Howe er his fingers touch the strings, could tell 
 The great deeds done upon that far-famed morn ; 
 
 How amid heaps of slain the old King fell, 
 
 How to the wood the Bloom-bright One forlorn 
 
 And her fair maids were brought forth from the 
 hold, 
 
 With all the treasures of bright gems and gold. 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 143 
 
 THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 T^HERE spread a lovely glade all cool and still 
 
 Three javelin casts beyond the outer wall, 
 Where bloomed their seasons wild-rose, daffodil, 
 
 Fresh daisy, hyacinth, and foxglove tall, 
 And many another flower at Nature s will : 
 
 And there she stood, the sweetest flower of 
 
 all, 
 
 The Bloom-bright One, that eve, her maids amid, 
 The glory of her eyes by tears half hid. 
 
144 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 There in barbaric splendor o er the green 
 
 Were strewn the spoils from stubborn Mana 
 won, 
 
 Broad golden bowls up-filled with sapphires sheen 
 And diamonds that once in beauty shone 
 
 On brow of Indian maid, or dusky queen 
 
 Of realms that burn neath Afric s blinding sun, 
 
 And chalices with pearls filled to the lips, 
 
 Brought thitherward by wandering Tyrian ships. 
 
 And there gleamed piles of linked armor gay, 
 And helms with crests that shone like yellow 
 fire, 
 
 And plumes of that strange bird old legends say 
 Springs to new life from its own burning pyre, 
 
 And wondrous bucklers brought from far Cathay, 
 And bright stuffs from the golden looms of Tyre, 
 
 Baldricks and gilded torques and costly rings, 
 
 And jewelled swords fit for the sons of kings, 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANW. 
 
 145 
 
 And drinking cups with carven slender stems, 
 Dishes of gold, and fairy baskets wrought 
 
 Of pearl and silver filled with emerald gems 
 Whose least would make ten misers souls dis 
 traught, 
 
 And opals upon quaint old diadems, 
 
 And rubies on huge crowns of splendor brought 
 
 By Mananan from many a royal head 
 
 Of kingdoms by the sea long swallowed. 
 
 Now on them from the reddening western skies 
 The sun shone and a blaze of glory made, 
 
 Ten thousand gnats and glistering dragon-flies 
 And glowing moths seemed circling round the 
 glade, 
 
 And lizards backs and myriad serpents eyes 
 Tremulous to gleam by fern and grassy blade, 
 
 And all men wondered as they stood around 
 
 To see such treasures spread on mortal ground. 
 7 J 
 
I4 6 B LAN ID. 
 
 Amid these priceless hoards young Blanid stood 
 With all her lovely bower-maids weeping sore, 
 
 Her cloak fallen at her feet, her Tyrian hood 
 
 Thrown back, her gown s blue radiance rippled o er 
 
 By her bright silken hair, a tawny flood 
 
 That almost reached the smooth glade s emerald 
 floor, 
 
 Where glanced the white pearls on herbroidered shoon 
 
 Like silver-glistening dew-drops neath the moon. 
 
 And round the glade, leaning on their long spears, 
 Stood the great knights, the marrers of her mirth, 
 
 Who looked on her as though with doubts and 
 
 fears 
 That her bright beauty had no mortal birth ; 
 
 For, nathless her keen sorrow and her tears, 
 The red of all the roses of the earth 
 
 Seemed on her lips, and in her eyes the blue 
 
 Of all the violets that since Adam grew. 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 147 
 
 Advanced beyond the throng and towering high 
 Stood he whose might the magic wheel did 
 tame, 
 
 With spear in hand, the lightning of his eye 
 From his barred helmet glinting like a flame, 
 
 As drew Dun Dalgan s mighty lord anigh 
 
 And spoke aloud : 4< O knight without a name, 
 
 To whom we owe the castle s mastery, 
 
 Choose now thy jewel, whatsoe er it be ! " 
 
 Then strode he forth and laid his armed hand 
 Upon the shrinking shoulder of the maid : 
 
 " I choose," he said, " this flower of all the land, 
 This priceless gem in beauty s garb arrayed ; 
 
 And if there be amongst this soldier band 
 A lord or prince of honor so unstaid 
 
 As now to say me nay, then I stand here 
 
 To prove my well-won right with shield and 
 spear!" 
 
, 4 8 BLANID. 
 
 There fell a surly silence on the throng, 
 
 And all their valiant hearts grew cold as stone, 
 
 Their knightly promise pledged, or right or wrong, 
 To make the loveliest jewel there his own ; 
 
 Wistful they stood and grieved, until erelong 
 Burst from their laboring breasts a bitter groan 
 
 Like the hoarse grumbling of the storm s last 
 breeze 
 
 Dying amid the sturdy forest-trees. 
 
 What recked they now of gems and stores of gold 
 But as poor gauds worthless in all men s eyes, 
 
 As from their midst they saw the hero bold 
 
 Through the green glades bear off the glorious 
 prize, 
 
 With her bower-maids, her foster-mother old, 
 And a stout varlet of her house ? The skies 
 
 Darkened apace, and the sun left them there 
 
 Dumb as the hollow night in their despair. 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 149 
 
 The moon and stars shone bright on Mana s bay, 
 The winds were still, the drowsy sailors slept, 
 
 And all the mighty fleet in silence lay, 
 
 When from the shadow that the huge rocks kept 
 
 Over a little inlet bore away 
 
 The galley of the Nameless Knight, and swept, 
 
 With brawny arms and hands to ply the oar, 
 
 Towards Borka s blue-bright peaks from Mana 
 shore. 
 
 Over its royal deck were all things strewn 
 
 Fit for his weeping prize to rest upon, 
 Gemmed seats carved o er with many an ancient rune, 
 
 Footstools, Ulidian webs of saffron lawn, 
 Thick cloths of gold, the Persian s gorgeous boon, 
 . Gay Tyrian shawls that with strange brilliance 
 
 shone, 
 
 And Norland furs, and tawny lions hides 
 From the brown burning tracts that Nile divides. 
 
150 
 
 BLA.VID. 
 
 Amidst them in her tameless agony 
 
 Prone on the deck long lay the Bright One 
 
 low, 
 And yet no sighs would come her breast to free, 
 
 No tears to lighten her sad weight of woe ; 
 At length she sat her up, and piteously 
 
 Crept nigh her foster dame, and to and fro 
 Rocked herself, moaning like a wounded hind 
 In a wild forest far from all mankind ! 
 
 Then Mora crept anigh. " O child and friend ! " 
 Said Blanid, " now our night of life s begun, 
 
 Our misery without a change or end ; 
 
 Where now are those kind Gods whose smiles 
 we won 
 
 With prayers ? Where now to shelter and defend 
 The helpless ? While our hearts sad currents run, 
 
 No 1 more, no more they 11 smile on us, and give 
 
 The sweet joys back that made life worth to live ! 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 151 
 
 " No more, no more my father s face we 11 see, 
 Smiling farewell at night ; alas ! no more 
 
 Shall his fond arms of love be clasped round me 
 For morning s welcome ; in the breach of gore 
 
 He lies with stiffened hand, the enemy 
 
 In piles around him heaped, his banner tore, 
 
 His bright sword broken, and his nobles all 
 
 Stretched stark beside him o er red breach and 
 wall. 
 
 " And my beloved one, who with my sire 
 
 Shared all my heart, woe, woe for me and him ! 
 
 No more where laughs the foxglove s gay attire 
 By the woodside we 11 meet. Destruction grim 
 
 Hath plunged my native land in war s hot mire 
 Of blood ! And now her fading shores grow 
 dim ! " - 
 
 And down the Bright One fell, and, lying prone, 
 
 Kept muttering to herself her parting moan : 
 
152 BLAi\ID. 
 
 " Farewell to thee, Mana beloved ! 
 
 Forlorn as thou art ! 
 Too well was thy valiance proved, 
 
 Dear home of my heart ! 
 No more shall thy halls of glory 
 
 Sound to the harp and flute ; 
 Still, still is the minstrel s story, 
 
 And the voice of the bard is mute. 
 
 " Farewell to thee, Mana beloved ! 
 
 Alas ! and alas ! 
 Where the feet of my girlhood roved, 
 
 From the tangled grass 
 In my desolate place of roses 
 
 The grim, gray wolf doth whine, 
 And the bat mid the leaves reposes 
 
 In the bowers that once were mine. 
 
 " Farewell to thee, Mana beloved ! 
 
 To thy guest-halls bright, 
 Where the fingers of minstrels moved 
 
 Unto sounds of delight ! 
 Farewell to thy vale and forest, 
 
 Thy cincture of sea-waves green, 
 And the mantle of joy thou worest 
 
 In the happy days that have been ! " 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 153 
 
 Again crept Mora to her, whispering, 
 
 " What ails thee, dearest ? Raise thy heart and 
 
 cry 
 Unto the Gods ! Perchance thy voice will bring 
 
 Upon our hapless state their kindly eye ! 
 Bethink thee of the fair ones whom the wing 
 
 Of fortune flapped in anger ! Did they die 
 In their first black despondency ? Ah, no ! 
 They lived to see joy ending all their woe ! 
 
 " Think of fair Etain s fortunate return 
 
 To her fond lover s arms from Midir s land, 
 
 Of young Fingalla and the Fairy Urn, 
 Of Enna on the Sea isle, and of Fand, 
 
 The princess who made many a brave heart 
 
 burn, 
 Neim, Fea, and Fininda of the strand, 
 
 She lived to see her sorrows pass away 
 
 And marry three good husbands in her day ! 
 7* 
 
BLANID. 
 
 " Arise, O darling of my heart ! arise ! 
 
 A mother I will prove to thee erelong 
 Far better than thy foster-dame, though wise 
 
 Tenfold she looks there by the bulwark strong 
 Sitting and gazing on us ! Lift thine eyes 
 
 And kiss me, dearest ! Woe and bitter wrong 
 May crush thee, yet, than me, thou It never 
 
 find 
 A mother, sister, friend, more fond and kind ! " 
 
 But still no softening tears her eyes would bless, 
 Till rose a light wind on the silver sea 
 
 Singing amidst the sails : then her distress 
 Seemed as a thing far off, and dreamily 
 
 All things grew mixed, as in her weariness 
 
 She laid her bright head on her fosterer s 
 knee 
 
 And slept till morning broke, then up she sat 
 
 And moaned again, but yet no comfort gat 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 And merrily hummed its song the galley s prore 
 As fast it clave the blue sea s glassy plain, 
 
 And through a winding inlet neared a shore 
 
 Whose sunny woods smelt fresh from recent 
 rain. 
 
 Thereon they disembarked ; then seaward bore 
 The lordly galley o er the waves again, 
 
 Till far away sank down its tall mast s stem, 
 
 And left the Nameless Knight alone with them. 
 
 There spread a lovely bank twixt wave and wood 
 Prankt o er with sea-pink and blue violet, 
 
 And there she sat a space in vacant mood 
 
 And saw the flowers with hard eyes still un- 
 wet ; 
 
 Then a fond memory came and brought the blood 
 Into her cheeks, and then a fierce regret 
 
 For her lost home and all her happy years 
 
 Burned in her heart, but yet she shed no tears ! 
 
5 6 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Like to a startled, mournful mountain erne 
 That sees its only fledgling droop and die, 
 
 And flaps her wings and screams along the 
 
 fern, 
 The foster-dame looked in that haggard eye 
 
 With melting mother s heart that sore did yearn, 
 Then clapped her hands and raised a woful cry 
 
 Of sorrow, as one wails above the dead, 
 
 But still no answering tears young Blanid shed ! 
 
 Whereat the great Knight smote his sounding shield 
 With deafening clang, and raised his voice 
 aloud, 
 
 And from the shelter of the leafy weald 
 
 A tall squire led a war-horse prancing proud 
 
 With brass-shod hoofs adown the flowery field, 
 And head-plumes glancing like a tawny cloud, 
 
 And jangling rein and red caparison, 
 
 And glittering selle a King might sit upon. 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 157 
 
 And after him another squire there came 
 Leading an ambling palfrey white as snow, 
 
 Fit for some princess or imperial dame, 
 With arched neck and stately pace and slow, 
 
 With many a gem its bridle bright aflame, 
 With pearls of price its saddle all aglow, 
 
 Its housings azure silks and cloth of gold, 
 
 A wonder and heart -gladness to behold ! 
 
 Then other squires came forth with many steeds, 
 Varlets with sumpter mules, and everything 
 
 That thirst might yearn for, or that hunger 
 
 needs, 
 In depths of woods and far-off journeying ; 
 
 And soon the bank s green grass and flowery 
 
 weeds 
 Smelt of the sweet repast, and in a ring 
 
 Sat they around, maids, foster-dame, and squire, 
 
 And feasted there to each one s heart s desire, 
 
i 5 8 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Save the bright Maid. Listless and sad she ate 
 Her bitter crust without a sob or sigh, 
 
 As one who dreams some doom all desolate 
 
 Holds her in thrall she knows not where or 
 why; 
 
 Then strong Ferkertne took his harp and sate 
 Before her, and awoke with fervor high 
 
 A melody would raise one from the tomb 
 
 To melt her heart, but yet no tears would come ! 
 
 Whereat Ferkertne whispered, " O thou flower 
 Of constant womanhood, another strain 
 
 May strike thy heart ! One day in wildwood 
 
 bower 
 I heard the man thou lovest sore complain, 
 
 Singing to thee, as though by some God s power 
 Thou wert beside him, while beyond the main 
 
 In Mana s halls thou wert ! His words I ll sing 
 
 To ope thy laden heart, thy tears to bring : 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " When the winds in the wood are still, 
 And the lake sleeps calm in the hollow, 
 
 And the moon pours over the hill 
 Her light upon glade and tree, 
 
 I sit by the sparkling rill 
 
 And my thoughts the fleet waves follow 
 Like the flight of the early swallow 
 
 To the summer of love and thee. 
 
 " In the sapphire and rose of dawn 
 
 When the lark from his nest is springing, 
 
 And the dappled deer and the fawn 
 
 Come down to the wood-stream s shore, 
 
 I stand on the dew-bright lawn, 
 And list to the skylark s singing, 
 And think of thy sweet voice bringing 
 
 Its thrill to my heart once more. 
 
 " When the west is purple and red 
 With the glory of sunset dying, 
 And the waves to the sky outspread 
 In the tremulous splendors burn, 
 
160 BLANID. 
 
 I stray by the ocean bed, 
 
 The sea-birds around me flying, 
 And think in my sadness, sighing, 
 
 Of the hours that will ne er return. 
 
 " In the flight of the winged hour, 
 
 In the changing of moon and season, 
 
 The seed upsprings in the flower, 
 
 And the flower neath the cold blast dies : - 
 
 There is change in tlie Sun-God s power, 
 There is death in the wind s unreason, 
 In a woman s heart is there treason ? 
 
 Is there falsehood in woman s eyes ? 
 
 " I prayed to the Gods at noon 
 
 That thou wouldst not hate or fear me, 
 I asked of the Gods a boon 
 
 And they answered mine eager cry, 
 For a Voice in the wind of June 
 
 It answered that thou dost hear me, 
 
 That thou in thy thoughts art near me 
 However the hours flit by ! " 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 161 
 
 Still stubborn sat the Bright One, into space 
 
 Looking as though some dreadful shape up- 
 sprang 
 
 Before her, blotting out the sunny place 
 
 With its black shadow as the minstrel sang ; 
 
 Then hid she tween her hands her troubled face, 
 Stricken like orchard flowers that listless hang 
 
 When the frosts come and th East s pernicious wind 
 
 Blows on their bloom and leaves no life behind ! 
 
 But when the war-horse pranced with joyous neigh 
 
 Of pleasure at the moving melody, 
 Up sat she, looking on his harness gay, 
 
 And mused awhile, and then fond memory 
 Brought back to her bruised heart the happy 
 day, 
 
 When mid the forest s sunny glades and free 
 Rode up her heart s beloved on such a steed 
 And slew the great bull in her hour of need. 
 
1 62 BLANID. 
 
 Then, as an April morn awakes all red 
 
 With blushes bright, to end in glistening showers, 
 
 The crimson from her heart her cheeks o erspread, 
 Her breast heaved, and she dropt amid the flowers 
 
 And swooned awhile, then woke and raised her 
 
 head, 
 Like the young Moon within her silver bowers. 
 
 And torn with grief and racked with many fears, 
 
 She wept but got no comfort from her tears ! 
 
 Then heavy trouble fell on Ferkertne, 
 
 He knew not why, but as he gazed on her 
 
 Strange voices whispered to him, " Thou art he 
 That lovest her the best ! " and thoughts would 
 stir 
 
 Within his brain and through his strong heart flee, 
 Shaking him as the hill-wind shakes the fir, 
 
 As mournfully he sat there till the sound 
 
 And bustling for departure echoed round. 
 
THE TEARS OF BLANID. 
 
 Soon mounted they, and mid the forest green 
 Went downward through the breezy perfumed 
 dells, 
 
 And sweetly the strong-towering trunks between 
 Came back the tinkling of the palfrey s bells 
 
 On the light wind, while flashed the sunlight sheen 
 From spears and swords and fluttering pennoncels 
 
 And caps and plumes and braveries golden gay, 
 
 Till through the wild-woods south they passed away. 
 
1 64 BLANID. 
 
 THE HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF 
 BIERNA. 
 
 LOVE ! O love ! Ofttimes a bitter guest, 
 
 Ofttimes a golden joy without a stain, 
 Lord of hard grief, of anger and unrest, 
 
 Gift-giver of bright pleasure after pain ; 
 O thou whose breath warmeth the hardened breast 
 As wintry frosts by spring s sweet winds and 
 
 rain, 
 
 There s blood upon thine arrows warm and red ! 
 And why art thou with vengeance still unfed ? 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 165 
 
 For where erstwhile thy sunny garden grew 
 A pleasaunce of delight naught seemed to chill, 
 
 Decked with all flowers that ever drank the dew, 
 Vocal with bird and breeze and singing rill, 
 
 Now nothing meets thy mournful victim s view 
 But desert sand and rock and fierce-browed 
 hill, - 
 
 Naked and grim, with clouds of gloom o erspread 
 
 Pouring misfortune s rain upon his head ! 
 
 i 
 
 With heart forlorn his galley s deck he trode 
 And sailed the sea to high Dun Dalgan s hall ; 
 
 Nor long within its chambers he abode, 
 
 But with sweet hopes all changed to bitter 
 gall, 
 
 And sorrow darkening his lonely road, 
 
 He sought the hills, that song of waterfall 
 
 And breeze within the wood and wild-birds strain 
 
 Might wake to gladness his sad heart again. 
 
1 66 BLANID. 
 
 But though the wild-birds sang their sweetest lays, 
 Though all the forest flowers bloomed in their 
 prime, 
 
 And the sweet winds beneath the summer rays 
 Played mid the whispering leaves their lulling 
 chime, 
 
 Though many a brooklet down the greenwood maze 
 Danced in blithe gladness, yet nor change nor time 
 
 Could end his care or lighten his sad woe, 
 
 Howe er the birds might sing or breezes blow! 
 
 One day as he rode downward through a glen 
 Whose sparkling stream made music as he sped, 
 
 He came on hurrying groups of armed men 
 Marching along the winding path that led 
 
 Around a rock-encircled gloomy fen 
 Unto a village green, whereon, adread 
 
 Of something strange they halted, each one s hand 
 
 Grasping with nervous grip the spear or brand. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 167 
 
 And there the priests were from the neighboring 
 shrine, 
 
 The villagers around them, young and old, 
 Who, when they saw Cuhullin s harness shine 
 
 Anear them with its links of brass and gold, 
 Knew him for their own prince, and as strong wine 
 
 Makes the faint-hearted ofttimes overbold, 
 His presence raised their hearts, and boisterously 
 They shouted like the roaring of the sea. 
 
 Then one came nigh and said, " O prince and 
 lord 
 
 Of this our land and home, the Gods at last 
 Take pity on our state, with one accord 
 
 Sending thee to us, and our woe is past 
 When thou, O hero ! helpest. By the ford 
 
 Of Bierna, where the black flood hurries fast 
 Out of the fen, there dwells a monster dire 
 Whose wrath consumes us like a forest fire ! 
 
1 68 BLANID. 
 
 And how he came we know not, but one day 
 The birds sat still in garden, grove, and wood, 
 
 Till the dark night fell, then each branch and 
 
 spray 
 Resounded with a weird, alarming flood 
 
 Of music from their throats ; and when the gray 
 Of Morn came, a great storm-cloud red as blood 
 
 Rose in the east, and down the glen there bore 
 
 Seven ravens with their long beaks dripping gore. 
 
 And then the storm came rending sky and earth, 
 And a thick darkness with it, and the flame 
 
 Of lightning split in its demoniac mirth 
 
 Yon sacred tree, and from the ford there 
 came 
 
 Roaring a monstrous wolf, that ne er had birth 
 Save from the nether Gods without a name, 
 
 And into my fair brother s cottage burst 
 
 And slew him, child and wife, with jaws accurst ! 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 169 
 
 And since each night he rushes from his lair, 
 Slaying both child and man ; and shield and 
 
 spear 
 Seem naught against him, and the young and fair 
 
 Sweet morsels are to him, and thus we fear, 
 O prince ! his vengeance fell, though trembling care 
 
 Will leave our doubting hearts now thou art here 
 To rid us of the pest ; but hark the moan 
 Of the bereaved ones for their joys o erthrown ! " 
 
 FIRST PRIEST. 
 
 The Pest of the Fiends hath won us, 
 
 The Bringer of woe is nigh, 
 No friendly Gods smile on us, 
 
 Or list to our wail and cry ! 
 Our word is the foam that flashes 
 
 Down the torrent, to fade and pass, 
 Our prayers are but dust and ashes, 
 
 Our wish is the withered grass ! 
 8 
 
I/O 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 SECOND PRIEST. 
 
 He was born by the fen s black mirror, 
 
 The offspring of Doom and Hate, 
 He was cradled in the cave of Terror, 
 
 And nursed at the dugs of Fate ! 
 We chatter with fear, like sparrows 
 
 When the adder stirs by the wall, 
 For our threats are as pointless arrows 
 
 Gainst the thews of his strength to fall j 
 And we pray with the hate hate nurses 
 
 Till our vision with rage is dim, 
 And our mouths foam over with curses 
 
 To wither him, heart and limb ; 
 But some fiend of the fiends hath fenced him, 
 
 Hath strengthened him, fang and claw, 
 And our curses are naught against him, 
 
 And our prayers are but chaff and straw ! 
 
 CHIEF OF THE VILLAGE. 
 
 My son in the throngs of the valiant was valiant where 
 
 cowered the brave, 
 He grew like the shaft of the pine-tree that towers by 
 
 Beraran s dark wave ; 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 171 
 
 On the ridge of the fore-front of battle, like the moon 
 
 through the dust shone his targe, 
 And the prince of the land was his comrade, as his 
 
 long spear came up to the charge ! 
 No more will he follow his lord to the conquest of isles 
 
 and of coasts, 
 No more where the firm earth is shaken by the shout and 
 
 the charging of hosts 
 Gainst his shield will the javelins clatter, or the light 
 
 arrows whirr through his plume, 
 For his bones strew the black ford of Bierna, and his 
 
 flesh feeds the fierce Thing of doom ! 
 
 FIRST MOTHER. 
 
 As a bud in a land of roses 
 
 My little one grew, 
 As the violet Morn uncloses, 
 
 His eyes of blue ; 
 As the harps neath the golden rafter 
 
 Of the King with the flutes combine, 
 Was the voice of his silvery laughter 
 
 To this desolate heart of mine ! 
 
BLANID. 
 
 Alas for the tender blossom 
 
 Of bloom and light ! 
 Alas for the mother s bosom 
 
 That once was bright ! 
 The brook in the woodland dances, 
 
 The sunbeams shimmer and burn, 
 But the rapture of my love s glances 
 
 Will ne er to my heart return ! 
 
 SECOND MOTHER. 
 
 As a twig of the catkined willow 
 
 My loved one bloomed at my side, 
 She was pure as the moon s white pillow 
 
 Of cloud o er the ocean tide ; 
 She was winsome and bright and bonny 
 
 As the lily by Bana s lake, 
 She was sweet as the sweet wild honey 
 
 The bees in the gold moss make ; 
 Her mouth was a rose unfolden 
 
 With the glory of morning smit, 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 173 
 
 Her hair as the corn was golden 
 
 By the tawn of the Autumn lit : 
 Her voice was the throstle s singing 
 
 At even from Lora s bowers, 
 Her breath was the wood-breeze bringing 
 
 The joy of unnumbered flowers ; 
 But alas ! and alas ! that never 
 
 Again will her hand clasp mine ! 
 Alas for the fateful Riever ! 
 
 And woe for the Wrath divine ! 
 
 Then thronged they round the hero and they 
 cried, 
 
 " Deliverer, by the good Gods sent ! O thou 
 That comest in the glory and the pride 
 
 Of thy young manhood, with thy sunlike brow 
 Beaming on us the look that never lied 
 
 Of hope and comfort, in thy valiance now 
 Strike for us ! Strike ! and rid us of the Pest 
 Hurled on us by the nether Gods unblest ! " 
 
174 BLANID. 
 
 Then called the hero to him a young man 
 Who sat a strong gray horse and held a spear 
 
 In his firm grasp. " The winds this morn that ran 
 Over the fen where dwells this thing of fear 
 
 Not swifter sped than thou must scour the span 
 Tween this and high Dun Dalgan, and bring 
 here 
 
 Lia Macha from her brazen stall, and him, 
 
 Barana of the light and powerful limb ! 
 
 " Bring hither the three giants ta en by me 
 The day we plundered Mana for my spoil, 
 
 With their three brazen flails, and Aranie, 
 
 My Poet, and the three hounds, Dil and 
 Goil 
 
 And Brena, and the Skimmer of the meads, 
 Loy the strong charioteer, and in the toil 
 
 Of the loud roaring chase, or in his den, 
 
 We 11 meet and slay this monster of the fen ! " 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 175 
 
 Away the young man sped, and loud again 
 Cuhullin cried, " Go to your homes and sleep 
 
 The sleep of safety ; and I too am fain 
 
 To slumber ! Let this old man watch, and weep 
 
 Beside me for his son till on the plain 
 
 Eve s shadows fall ; then I will rise and keep 
 
 Watch for you through the night with spear and 
 sword 
 
 Gainst the dread Fiend by Bierna s gloomy ford ! " 
 
 With that he sprang from off his horse, and lay 
 Under the riven tree, and closed his eyes 
 
 In slumber, while the old man sat all day 
 
 Wringing his hands and moaning with low cries 
 
 For his dead son, till when the twilight gray 
 
 Crept round the hills and from the golden 
 skies 
 
 The sun went down, he cried, " O hero, wake ! 
 
 And watch by blood-stained Bierna for our sake ! " 
 
176 BLANID. 
 
 And all that night he watched before the cave 
 Of Bierna, by the black ford, and anon 
 
 Taunted the Fiend within, and three times drave 
 His horse half cross the ford, and three times 
 spun 
 
 His spear into the air and caught its stave 
 Shouting as it came down, and when the sun 
 
 In pink and saffron robed the rising morn 
 
 He heard from th eastern hill-gap Loy s blithe horn. 
 
 Then back unto the village green he sped 
 And waited, but not long, till from the wood 
 
 Came Loy and Aranie, and with them led 
 Lia Macha and Barana, and the brood 
 
 Of Shrang, the three great hounds, black, tawn, and 
 
 red, 
 Brena and Dil and Goil, and those that stood 
 
 Like three strong towers, the giants that he won 
 
 In Mana when the gory sack was done. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 There stood they with their brazen flails and smiled 
 With joy to meet their master, while around 
 
 The three great dogs of chase in circles wild 
 
 Scampered with gladness o er the smooth green 
 ground, 
 
 And loud Barana whinnied when the mild 
 Kind accents of his master with sweet sound 
 
 Fell on his ears, and eager for the fight 
 
 Lia Macha neighed and shook her trappings bright. 
 
 Then cried he to the villagers once more, 
 " Go to your homes, and, shut therein, abide 
 
 Praying unto the Gods, while to the shore 
 Of the black fen I and my people ride 
 
 To rid you of the Pest ; and where before 
 
 You groaned in dull despair, the welcome tide 
 
 Of joy may flood your hearts!" and off he 
 rode 
 
 With his stout following for the Fiend s abode. 
 8* L 
 
178 BLANID. 
 
 There leapt he from Lia Macha where the fen 
 Spewed out its sullen flood, and with a look 
 
 Of import dread he eyed the monster s den, 
 And, raising high his spear, its shaft he shook 
 
 Defiant ; then advanced the giant men 
 
 With their bright brazen flails across the 
 brook, 
 
 Shouting in tones whereat the rugged hills 
 
 Trembled with all their forests, lakes, and rills ! 
 
 Before the den there rose a savage brake 
 
 Of copse and woven wood of thorn, wherethrough 
 
 No man could rush, and there, a path to make, 
 Around the giants heads the bright flails 
 flew ; 
 
 And as strong husbandmen with scythes that take 
 The meadow grass and all its glories strew 
 
 Around them, with their flashing flails of wrath 
 
 Up to the den they mowed their master s path. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 1/9 
 
 Then laughing they returned across the stream, 
 And pointed to the cave, wherefrom the eyes 
 
 Of the dread Monster blazed, as like a dream 
 Of terror he lay crouched, his demon size 
 
 Half filling the dark cavern. As a beam 
 Of sunlight darting or the bolt that flies 
 
 O er the flat meadow from the storm-cloud 
 sent 
 
 Cuhullin cross the ford now rushing went, 
 
 And leapt upon the bank with armed feet, 
 Nimble, and up the path of beaten sedge 
 
 Left by the giants flails, strong, fierce, and fleet 
 He rushed, keen looking o er his targe s edge 
 
 On the huge wolf that now sprang forth to 
 
 meet 
 His coming like the falling of a ledge 
 
 In Barna, mixing as he thundered out 
 
 His howling with the hero s mighty shout. 
 
l8o BLANID. 
 
 Gainst the great shield he struck, and, as a wave 
 That plunges from the firm sea-rock, aside 
 
 Glanced from the graven disk, and, bounding, clave 
 With his strong breast the black ford s muddy 
 tide ; 
 
 Then up the other bank through blow of glaive 
 And lash of flail and dart of javelin tried 
 
 In many a fray, he rushed, and headlong sped 
 
 Down the broad track that to the village led. 
 
 And after him with dreadful clash and clang 
 
 Cuhullin rode, swift Loy and Aranie 
 At his left arm, and loud their harness rang 
 
 As their fleet-footed steeds swept down the lea 
 On the wolfs furious track, that growled and 
 sprang 
 
 Before them, past the lightning-riven tree, 
 Under thick dust-clouds through the village street, 
 And outward o er the meadows cool and sweet ! 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 181 
 
 The peasant cowered behind his garden wall 
 As they went by ; the children from their play 
 
 Fled in blind terror, screaming one and all 
 As the wild hurricane of chase passed on by 
 spray 
 
 Of falling brook, by mead, by cot and hall, 
 By rock and hill, by wood and shore, till Day 
 
 His golden hand with Night s black palm did join 
 
 On level meads beside the fishful Boyne ! 
 
 There in the midmost of a meadow rose 
 A sacred fane to Gods whom no one knew 
 
 So old it was, and there like virgin snows 
 A flock of sheep lay nigh it with the dew 
 
 Falling on their white fleeces, while with 
 
 nose 
 Half buried in the grass and violets blue, 
 
 And twisted horns and ears of silver gray, 
 
 The Patriarch of the flock outside them lay. 
 
1 82 BLANID. 
 
 On him the wolf sprang swift and by the flank 
 Caught him in his fell jaws, and with a bound 
 
 Carried him o er the encircling wall, and drank 
 His blood within the fane, where man nor 
 hound 
 
 Would follow him, while over brake and bank 
 Scattered the panting flock with fear astound ; 
 
 And there the hunters slept or watched all night, 
 
 Till the fresh morn made earth and ocean bright. 
 
 Then with a howl the wolf sprang from the fane 
 And swept the flat lands with immortal speed, 
 
 While, close behind, the hunt rushed on again 
 Like the fierce whirlwind that mows the mead 
 
 And cornfield with its wings of wrath and bane, 
 Away, away, hound, man, and foaming steed, 
 
 Through Boyne, by Tara s height, by grove and 
 dell, 
 
 Till the hot noon passed by and evening fell ! 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 183 
 
 On the far border of the Bregian plain 
 
 A gorge there was by ancient earthquakes split 
 
 Through a hill s heart, and now with crimson stain 
 Its rocks and savage trees were all alit 
 
 By the descending sun, as the wild train 
 
 Rushed through its darkening mouth, while, 
 terror-smit, 
 
 Before them rushed twelve kine with thundering din 
 
 Up to the cliffs that shut the steep gorge in. 
 
 There, as Cuhullin neared the dizzy height, 
 
 And the fierce herd of kine turned round, his 
 prey 
 
 Sprang on a brindled bull, and, where no light 
 Gleamed thro a cave anigh that open lay, 
 
 Ramped in his victim s blood, and, as the bright 
 Sweet dawn awoke, rushed out and made his way 
 
 Neath javelin cast and stroke of sword and flail 
 
 From the deep gorge and o er the open dale. 
 
1 84 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Away, away through ford and rocky pass 
 
 Two long days more they sped, till as the 
 noon 
 
 Of the fourth day died, through a fragrant mass 
 Of foliage green they burst ; and there the boon 
 
 Of Aine lay before them, flowers and grass 
 That drank from light of sun and star and 
 moon 
 
 Their ever-during loveliness, for there 
 
 Beside a lake outspread a garden fair. 
 
 And by the lake upon a knoll there stood 
 A lovely house, whose front with traceries 
 
 Was beautified, of many-tinted wood, 
 
 Carven in rose, and the white flower that sees 
 
 The stars from out the pond, with brilliant-hued 
 Fresh blossoms of the moorlands and the leas 
 
 And gardens, and the meadow s grassy floors, 
 
 All intertwined round windows, walls, and doors. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 185 
 
 And all the knoll was bloom, the garden sweet 
 All bloom and light, as if no Winter there 
 
 Had ever shown with deadly frowns unmeet 
 His frosty beard, and soft the perfumed air 
 
 Blew from the lake, as with destructive feet 
 The wolf now rushed o er lawn and flower-bed 
 fair 
 
 On to the house, neath shaft and javelin whirr, 
 
 The house and peaceful home of Bras Mac 
 Lir! 
 
 Now Bras Mac Lir a priest of Aine was, 
 Well versed in every rite and mystery 
 
 Of the bright Goddess, and the gentle laws 
 That govern love and the flower progeny 
 
 Of earth and sun, and how kind Nature draws 
 Her sustenance from both, and blithe was he, 
 
 With his fair sons and daughters and his spouse, 
 
 Within that happy, smiling, sunlit house. 
 
1 86 BLANID. 
 
 In the bright sunny chamber sat they now, 
 
 Sire, wife, and children, while through bank and 
 bed 
 
 Of flowers the wolf drave as the sharpened plough 
 Through the soft sward, till, his eyes flaming red, 
 
 He burst into the chamber, every brow 
 Paling at his fell aspect, as with head 
 
 Savage and huge and grim he crouching lay 
 
 Glaring on them, ready to spring and slay. 
 
 Then came the tread of armed feet, and fast 
 
 Through the door strode C uhullin, and plunged deep 
 
 Into the wolf s broad breast his sword, that passed 
 Through heart and lung, ere the fell beast could 
 leap 
 
 With his sharp fangs upon him ; grim and vast 
 Against the wall he lay, a gory heap, 
 
 No more to ramp and raven in the blood 
 
 Of the sad .folk by Bierna s gloomy flood ! 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 187 
 
 Now Bras Mac Lir before his household cried: 
 " O bright-clad hero, God-sent here to save 
 
 My clear ones ! mid thy targe s circle wide 
 I see the eagle soaring o er his wave, 
 
 I see the Red Branch, royal Eman s pride ! 
 Then thou art he who took the option brave 
 
 Of the short life and glorious, thou art he, 
 
 Famed through the islands and o er many a 
 sea ! " 
 
 Then strode the giants through the hall, and bore 
 The dread Thing from the chamber, and afar 
 
 Amid the woods buried him in his gore 
 In a dark spot where neither light of star 
 
 Nor moon could reach him, nor the sunbeams 
 
 pour 
 Their gold upon his grave, an oaken spar 
 
 Driven through his heart into the bloody clay, 
 
 To bind him in his darksome home alway. 
 
1 88 BLANID. 
 
 Meanwhile the priest cried, "Why thou cam st I 
 know 
 
 Chasing this demon Pest : for one bright morn 
 Beside our crystal lake five days ago 
 
 I saw a train bright as if they were born 
 In fairy-land, where sweetest blossoms blow 
 
 Upon the mead, to sound of flute and horn, 
 And harp and pipe and tympan, resting there 
 Around a silk pavilion smooth and fair. 
 
 " And at its door upon a brazen seat 
 A lady sat, fair as the flower that blows 
 
 In summer when the garden is complete 
 Of blossoms, and the beautiful white rose 
 
 Laughs in their midst, her ladies at her feet 
 
 On the cool grass, and like the pine that 
 grows 
 
 Tallest in Tunnamara s mountain wood 
 
 A kingly man of battle by them stood. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 189 
 
 " And Fame had come before, and well I knew 
 Great Curoi, and fair Blanid, and their train, 
 
 And the fond promises tween her and you, 
 And thy misfortunes, and her bosom s pain, 
 
 And I am Aine s priest, and through the blue 
 Of heaven I ll send my prayers that not in 
 vain 
 
 Thou comest on the eve of her bright feast 
 
 To save my house and slay this monstrous beast." 
 
 Now when the house with perfume and with prayer 
 Was purified, and when the Night divine 
 
 With all her diamond lamps through th eastern 
 
 air 
 Upclomb, and bathed earth in the sacred wine 
 
 Of slumber and forgetfulness of care, 
 
 Cuhullin slept, and through the fairy mine 
 
 Of dream he wandered and in glimpses dim 
 
 He saw his loved one ever weep for him ! 
 
190 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 At morn he woke and called to Aranie : 
 
 " Poet and friend through fair or adverse tide, 
 
 Arise and take my following home with thee, 
 Giants and hounds and all, and there abide 
 
 Till my return, for only Loy shall be 
 
 My comrade searching for my promised bride ; 
 
 For I have dreamt and seen her lovely eyes 
 
 All drowned in tears for me, and heard her sighs ! " 
 
 Then Loy and strong Cuhullin sought their steeds, 
 And left the priest mid his green leaves em 
 bowered, 
 
 And to the south all day o er streams and meads 
 And dales and mosses and great moors they 
 scoured, 
 
 And at the silent hour when the sun leads 
 
 His glorious cohorts neath the waves, devoured 
 
 With love and grief, by Loy he laid him down 
 
 And slept till Morning donned her yellow crown. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 191 
 
 And all that day beneath the burning sky 
 
 Still south they rode swift as the eagle s wings, 
 
 Till at the eve where rose the mountains high 
 Like a tall circle of old Druid kings 
 
 Watching the closing of their fire God s eye 
 Over the crimson waves, by Blama s springs 
 
 Cuhullin and swift Loy in mournful mood 
 
 Lay down to sleep within a windless wood. 
 
 There dreamt he a strange dream, that made him 
 see 
 
 A sight whereat his heart did throbbing run, 
 A lovely stream that sang melodiously, 
 
 A meadow o er which Aine bright had spun 
 Her many-tinted robe of brilliancy, 
 
 And on its verge a gay pavilion 
 Whose lofty poles and roof neath sunset s 
 
 gold 
 Shone with rare glory over mead and wold ! 
 
1 92 BLANID. 
 
 And by its door he saw his loved one sit 
 
 With her bower-maids, the squires, and foster- 
 dame, 
 
 And the great Knight, while in a rapturous fit 
 The minstrel took his harp and named her name 
 
 In a blithe song that caused the wood-birds flit 
 Out from their homes, and for a space made tame 
 
 The shy brown rabbit with his ears in air, 
 
 And the red fox that watched him from his lair ! 
 
 But nathless all the sweetness of the lay, 
 
 He saw in her blue eyes but thoughts of him, 
 
 He saw her memories were far away 
 In Mana, by the blue lake s bosky rim, 
 
 And thought he heard her sigh, low murmuring 
 say, 
 
 " Ah me ! ah me ! ah me ! mine eyes are dim 
 
 With weeping, O beloved ! why com st thou not ? 
 
 Am I, thine own, so very soon forgot ? 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 193 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! In joy the sun may rise, 
 Beyond the mountain s ridge in glory set ; 
 
 But naught of day or night can glad mine eyes, 
 Can charm my soul or cure my heart s regret 
 
 Ah me ! ah me ! why are Love s golden ties 
 
 Made to be broken ? why, when once we 
 met, 
 
 Are we two chosen, O beloved, to be 
 
 Parted forever, plunged in misery ? " 
 
 Then daylight died, dark shadows gathered down, 
 And slowly faded all the vision bright, 
 
 And he awoke. Naught saw he save the brown 
 High hill-tops towering through the ghostly 
 night. 
 
 Then loud he called on Loy. " By my renown, 
 O valiant friend," he said, " I ve seen a sight 
 
 In dream that soon may bring a fateful hour 
 
 To me and yonder Knight of Caher s tower ! 
 9 M 
 
BLANID. 
 
 " But rest we while we may : the night is still, 
 And I will think of her I love the best." 
 
 " May no dark dreams of blighting grief and ill, 
 O master mine," said Loy, " disturb thy rest ! " 
 
 So slept they side by side, till th eastern hill 
 Waxed red with morn, and then through his 
 high crest 
 
 The fresh wind played as swiftly on they sped 
 
 Down the lone pathway that still southward led. 
 
 Fair smiled the morning upon Blama s hilts, 
 The silver mists curled up from moor and plain, 
 
 Blithe poured from myriads of joyous bills 
 
 The wild-birds songs and mingled with the 
 strain 
 
 Of murmuring winds and woods and falling rills, 
 As with light heart the lord of Beramain 
 
 On his fresh couch of fern-leaves oped his eyes, 
 
 Leapt on his steed and looked upon his prize. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 195 
 
 And as he looked he heard a trumpet clear 
 
 Sound from the northern wood, and then there rode 
 
 Into the glade a Knight. As he drew near 
 Gay in the sun his gilded armor glowed ; 
 
 Lordly his mien, high raised his glittering spear, 
 Caparisoned in blue his charger strode 
 
 O er the green grass, and arched his neck and 
 neighed, 
 
 And with his jangling bridle champed and played ! 
 
 " Dost know this shield s Red Branch and Soaring 
 Bird, 
 
 High prince of Beramain ? " the stranger said ; 
 And at the voice with flush of anger stirred 
 
 Stern Curoi his bold question answered, 
 "Where er Fame s trumpet sounds, or Rumor s heard, 
 
 That shield is known ! But by what black weird led 
 Comes strong Dun Dalgan s prince across my path ? " 
 "I come," Cuhullin cried in rising wrath, 
 
196 BLANID. 
 
 " I come to win back thy misgotten prize, 
 
 Mine own beloved, the bloom-bright Maid of 
 Man!" 
 
 " Thou com st to dye this grass with ruddy dyes 
 Of thy best blood," cried Curoi, " and to ban 
 
 All knighthood with thy word forsworn ! Her eyes 
 Shall see the fight, so let him take who can ! 
 
 Lo ! there she stands with her fear-whitened face ; 
 
 Look thy last on her now, and take thy place ! " 
 
 Then rose the rivalry and hate of years 
 
 Hot raging in their hearts, as round they went 
 
 To sunder for the red race of the spears, 
 
 And as the wind-blown flame burns up the 
 bent 
 
 On a brown mountain s back that autumn sears, 
 So all kind thoughts of good got banishment 
 
 From their hard hearts of pride where revelled free 
 
 Infuriate wrath and burning jealousy. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 19; 
 
 Meanwhile, as one who on a wreck doth stand 
 That the wide wallowing waves toss to and 
 fro, 
 
 And sees the saving boat put from the land, 
 Now high, now in the sea-trough sunken low, 
 
 Trembling tween fear and hope, each lily hand 
 Pressed o er her heart as if to hide her woe, 
 
 And pale as one who had forsaken life, 
 
 Young Blanid stood to watch the coming strife ! 
 
 Short time she stood and looked with fear-dazed eye, 
 Till each strong knight his lance the level gave, 
 
 And like the thunder cried his battle cry, 
 
 And spurred his steed, and cross the greensward 
 drave, 
 
 And as two rounded rocks that standing high 
 Each side a deep sheer dell, when rain-storms lave 
 
 The soft sands from beneath them, downward break 
 
 And meet, and with loud shock the firm earth shake, 
 
198 
 
 DLANID. 
 
 So on the trembling sward in mid career 
 
 The heroes met, so each went thundering down, 
 
 Fierce horse and man ; but yet each valiant spear 
 Had done its work ; stern Curoi s helmet crown, 
 
 Torn off, upon the grass lay glittering near, 
 
 And through Cuhullin s shield with mighty 
 stowne 
 
 Curoi s sharp point to the white shoulder went 
 
 And all his glittering mail with blood besprent. 
 
 Then sprang they to their feet and warily 
 
 Looked in each other s eyes with look of hate, 
 
 And crossed their jarring swords, and with bent 
 
 knee 
 Fought a long time their burning ire to sate, 
 
 Till like a storm-uprooted stately tree 
 Cuhullin fell, and Curoi stood elate, 
 
 Eying him as the hunter eyes the boar 
 
 That righting falls but yet may rise once more. 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 
 
 199 
 
 " I 11 slay thee not !" he said, " but this strong man 
 Must free thee from the Gods!" then caught 
 and raised 
 
 His mighty spear, and then a two-loot span 
 Of the bright brazen blood-red point outblazed 
 
 Beyond a follower s back, that shivering, wan, 
 With fear looked at the fight, whose eyes death 
 glazed 
 
 Even as he fell ; the varlet stout was he 
 
 Who in fair Blanid s train came o er the sea. 
 
 " I 11 slay thee not, but I will bind thee sore, 
 And rive thee of thy yellow flowing hair, 
 
 That in the press of knights thou It ride no more 
 For many a weary moon of grief and care ! " 
 
 Then loud he called a squire, who with a store 
 Of hempen coils came from the tent, and there 
 
 With many a knot they bound the luckless knight, 
 
 And reft him of his yellow locks of light. 
 
200 BLANID. 
 
 Trembling against the strong pavilion pole 
 
 The Bright One leant and watched the bitter fray, 
 
 Strong hope and terror struggling in her soul 
 As the quick swords clashed in their murderous 
 play ; 
 
 And when she saw her loved one, falling, roll 
 On the red grass, a cry of wild dismay 
 
 Burst from her, like the last despairing scream 
 
 Of one who sinks amid the ocean stream. 
 
 Then o er the hoof-torn sward she tottering stept, 
 And by his side fell down with dreary moan, 
 
 And pressed her face to his, and sobbed and wept 
 In a low, wailing voice, "Mine own ! mine own ! 
 
 O love! O love! " she cried, "why hast thou kept 
 This bloody tryst? Why cam st thou here 
 alone ? 
 
 Alas ! the answer in thine eyes I see ; 
 
 Love brought thee hither, love ! for me, for me ! 
 
HUNTING OF THE WOLF OF BIERNA. 2 OI 
 
 " Why have we loved ? Why was thy true heart fed 
 With hopes of bliss ? O dear one ! but for me 
 
 Mid green Ulidian hills thou now wouldst tread, 
 Chasing the dun deer through the wild-woods 
 free! 
 
 Now a poor captive liest thou here instead, 
 
 Bound helpless in these bonds of shame, and he, 
 
 Thy victor in the contest, mocks thee sore, 
 
 But in thy shame I love thee more and more ! 
 
 " Farewell ! farewell ! He strikes his sounding shield, 
 But Love is cunning, and Revenge is strong ; 
 
 Though my weak hand no gleaming sword can 
 
 wield, 
 Red blood shall flow for this thy shame erelong : 
 
 Farewell ! farewell ! The frosts in glade and field 
 Will nip the flowers, ere thou thy peers among 
 
 Shalt ride as fits a knight by hill or shore, 
 
 But in thy shame I love thee more and more ! " 
 9* 
 
202 BLANID. 
 
 "O loved one," low he said, "what tongue can 
 tell 
 
 My heart s despair, mine anguish, and my pain 
 To meet thee thus ? Alas ! farewell, farewell ! 
 
 Fate smites us hard, yet we may meet again !" 
 One moment more, and in her jewelled selle 
 
 She sat perforce, and mid the guardian train 
 Of glimmering spears, oft gazing sadly back, 
 She vanished down the forest s southern track. 
 
 Then Loy stepped out from the wild tangled wood, 
 And with his dagger reft the bonds away, 
 
 And deftly from the shoulder wiped the blood, 
 With healing herbs the long torn wound to stay ,- 
 
 And free once more Dun Dalgan s hero stood 
 Shamefaced, and like two ghosts that shun the 
 day, 
 
 Skulking through woods and paths untrod of men, 
 
 They sought Ben Borka s friendly peaks again. 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 203 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 TVJIGH the great, craggy mountains that each eve, 
 High towering through the calm Momonian 
 
 sky, 
 In golden cones and pinnacles receive 
 
 The last red glories from Day s closing eye, 
 From where the silver streams blithe singing leave 
 
 Their birthplaces amid the summits high, 
 A wilderness slopes downward to the sea 
 That murmurs on its gray beach joyously. 
 
204 DLANID. 
 
 High towering o er the tallest pines that wave 
 Their green heads in that blooming summer wold. 
 
 With towers and battlements and fosses brave, 
 In gray, grim state stands Curoi s castle old, 
 
 Upon whose front did hoary Time engrave, 
 
 Through many a summer s heat and winter s 
 cold, 
 
 His battle marks, his scars of wasting frost, 
 
 And rainy storms from the wild sea waves tost. 
 
 There is a high and lordly chamber there, 
 
 A broad brown hall hung with quaint draperies 
 
 That picture ancient Gods of sea and air, 
 
 Heroes of might, and ships before the breeze, 
 
 And sylvan feasts, and merry greenwoods fair 
 Where wild things gambol neath the rustling 
 trees 
 
 And hunters range, and o er its massive doors 
 
 Hang wolf-brows and the curved teeth of boars. 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 205 
 
 And round about its great cyclopean walls 
 Are ranged in dusty state with antlers spread 
 
 Skulls of the primal elk, and brazen mauls 
 And shields for centuries unburnished, 
 
 Jackets of mail, and banners black as palls 
 That bright in ages gone to victory led, 
 
 And glaives and spears rusted with ancient 
 gore, 
 
 Crossed now, but not in conflict as of yore. 
 
 
 
 Now on them steals the yellow morning light, 
 These trophies of great heroes dead and gone, 
 
 And the huge chamber gradually grows bright 
 And a grim swarthy smile of joy puts on ; 
 
 As some old forest nook with moss bedight 
 Seems all ablaze with splendor when the sun 
 
 Looks through its guardian tree-boles, blithe, and 
 fills 
 
 Its depths with ruddy light from orient hills. 
 
206 BLANID. 
 
 A window openeth to the. sunny bay 
 
 And the faint breezes of the day new born 
 
 Lightly with its barbaric draperies play, 
 
 And from their sleep the twittering eve-birds 
 warn ; 
 
 And there, like two sweet bunches of the May 
 That bloom in light on Doona s fairy thorn, 
 
 Stand Blanid and young Mora motionless 
 
 Gazing o er bay and beach and wilderness. 
 
 No living thing she sees where er she looks, 
 
 Save the white gull its wheeling course that steers, 
 
 Or o er the wood the morn-awakened rooks, 
 
 Or sea-hawk s wing that through the haze 
 appears, 
 
 Or hermit heron from far inland brooks 
 On one long leg amid the shallow meres 
 
 Watching the scaly sea tribes, as he stands 
 
 Like a lone spirit of the silent sands. 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 207 
 
 Then wept she to herself awhile, and said 
 Verses from love-lorn poets to relieve 
 
 Her burning, doubting* heart with hope unfed, 
 The more she said, the more to sigh and 
 grieve, 
 
 And took her lute, with music sad to wed 
 The verses that some ancient bard did weave 
 
 To soothe his own heart, or some lover s pain, 
 
 And thus with dove-like voice she sang her strain : 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " Deep in the dell where ferns are growing 
 
 A fountain springs, 
 And o er its gentle wavelets flowing 
 And blossoms in the sunshine blowing 
 
 The sky-lark sings : 
 Oh ! how he sings unto his mate 
 
 Down from the ether blue, 
 While I sit here all desolate 
 
 And think, beloved, of you ! 
 
208 BLANID. 
 
 " O happy bird, each hour returning 
 
 Unto its nest 
 
 Love s rapture in its bosom burning ! 
 O heart of mine, forever mourning 
 
 In sore unrest ! 
 How dear the sky-lark s happy state 
 
 Beside its lover true, 
 While I, alone, all desolate, 
 
 Sit here and weep for you ! " 
 
 Now looked she on the ancient tapestry 
 
 Whereon the wood was pictured, and therein 
 
 She saw a little bright-winged bird in glee 
 Singing its voiceless carol sweet and thin 
 
 On Monad s Mount, upon the sacred Tree 
 
 Of Life, and then she thought how near 
 akin 
 
 Her life was to that happy bird s one time, 
 
 And sang, grief-filled again, the poet s rhyme : 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 209 
 
 SONG. 
 
 " The linnet on his leafy Bough 
 
 Sang O so clear and sweet ! 
 When Love my comrade was, but now 
 
 That Love is gone on winged feet, 
 
 No more to give my heart good-morrow, 
 What can I with the linnet s song 
 But sadly sit and listen long, 
 
 And think it full of sorrow ? 
 
 " The throstle at the opening day 
 
 Sang O so sweet and clear ! 
 In Love s delightful month of May ; 
 
 But now that Love lies cold and drear, 
 
 What can my heart but sadness borrow ? 
 What can I with the warbling note 
 The throstle pipes from his sweet throat 
 
 But think it full of sorrow ? 
 
 " For Love in life was all I had, 
 
 Love O so fresh and sweet ! 
 To make my lonely bosom glad, 
 
 But now, ah ! never more to meet 
 
 His sunny smile and dear good-morrow, 
 What can I with this life of mine 
 But muse upon its woes and pine, 
 
 And think it naught but sorrow? " 
 
2io BLANID. 
 
 And still she weeps and still cries mournfully, 
 " He comes not to console my wasting pain! 
 
 Alas that I have loved ! Ah, woe is me 
 
 For the heart s loneliness and longings vain, 
 
 And promised bliss and wordless misery ! 
 
 I Ve seen brown Autumn end his lingering 
 reign, 
 
 And hoary Winter his white mantle spread 
 
 O er the sad earth, with yearning still unfed. 
 
 " I Ve seen blithe Springtide change with genial 
 ray 
 
 The hills frore pyramids to golden green, 
 But watching in my misery day by day, 
 
 No sight of my beloved one have I seen ; 
 I ve ta en my silken broidery to allay, 
 
 Weaving its shining threads, my sorrows keen, 
 My unavailing hopes and bitter fears, 
 But only wet its woof with ceaseless tears ! 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 2 II 
 
 " And now gay Summer with her sunny gleams 
 In royal robes moves through her perfumed 
 bowers, 
 
 Her heralds wild-birds music, songs of streams, 
 And the bees tiny trumpets mid the flowers : 
 
 Alas, alas, that I have dreamed these dreams ! 
 And woe is me for love s lost honeyed hours ! 
 
 For while joy reigns around and all is glad 
 
 In earth and heaven, I I alone am sad ! " 
 
 Then Mora said, " The hour is drawing nigh, 
 O mistress, for the ending of our gloom, 
 
 The blissful, happy hour when you and I 
 
 Shall walk through fair Dun Dalgan s groves of 
 bloom 
 
 As once we walked in Mana, where our sky 
 Was bright with joys that never now illume 
 
 Our lives, or fill with gladness and delight 
 
 Our morning and our noontide and our night ! 
 
212 BLANID. 
 
 "There never was a princess yet in story, 
 Captive to some sea rover or some king, 
 
 Some giant or some miser old and hoary, 
 That did not win at last, when, sweetening 
 
 Her life with hope of love and all the glory 
 
 And gladness that her hero s deeds would 
 bring, 
 
 She saw her star rise from the clouds malign 
 
 Of black despair, as thou wilt now see thine ! 
 
 " For, as I walked beside the stream that sees 
 At the hill s foot the wild things at their 
 play 
 
 Round its green banks, and all the mysteries 
 Of the blue heavens, the eve of yesterday, 
 
 I saw an old man sitting where the trees 
 
 Bend o er the tumbling water s diamond spray, 
 
 With a small harp, a long begrizzled beard, 
 
 And a great sword that made me half afeard ! 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 213 
 
 " And as I stood irresolute, he cast 
 
 A kindly look on me and said, Sit here, 
 
 O brown-eyed little beauty, for thou hast 
 
 No cause to shun me and no cause to 
 fear! 
 
 Sit by this tree that yet will be the mast 
 Of some great ship ! I am the poet-seer 
 
 Of him thy mistress loveth, Aranie 
 
 Of strong Dun Dalgan by the eastern sea ! 
 
 " Sit by me here and learn this song I sing, 
 And sing it to thy mistress ! and he took 
 
 His harp and with deft fingers touched its string, 
 And in strange accents like the voiceful brook 
 
 Three times he sang this song, and made me 
 
 bring 
 My voice in tune with his, till every nook 
 
 Of rock and wild-wood with the echoes rang ! " 
 
 And then she took the golden lute and sang : 
 
214 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 THE MESSAGE. 
 
 " Is the spirit of gladness dead ? 
 
 Are there naught but regrets and fears ? 
 Hath hope from thy bosom fled 
 
 That thou drownest thine eyes with tears ? 
 Wilt thou never, O loved one ! never 
 Grief and thy heart dissever, 
 And gather the roses red 
 
 Of joy for the after years? 
 
 " From the troubles that waste and mar 
 
 Joy and delight are born, 
 Reward stands oft afar, 
 
 Near are defeat and scorn ; 
 But the steadfast soul hath in it 
 Power that can work and win it, 
 The comfort of hope s bright star 
 
 In the glow between mirk and morn ! 
 
 " True love hath a charmed life, 
 
 It wakes in the morning air, 
 It walks in the noonday strife, 
 
 It lives through the midnight s care ; 
 And better in hope receive it, 
 In trusting faith believe it, 
 Than die by Griefs dread knife 
 
 Or the arrow of black Despair ! 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 215 
 
 " Then up he stood, and went, and like a dream 
 The whole thing was to me ; but now I ll seek 
 
 The King s bright garden where the fiery beam 
 Of morn doth kiss the rose-bud s ruddy 
 cheek ; 
 
 Watch from the window, downward by the stream, 
 O er the blithe forest and the hillside bleak, 
 
 The strand, the moorland and the glittering mere, 
 
 For in my heart I know thy love is near ! " 
 
 And Blanid looks. From round a looming cape 
 On whose high-towering front the sea-birds sit 
 
 Guarding their windy homes, a boat doth shape 
 Its course and cross the sunny harbor flit 
 
 And round a point with sea-caves all agape, 
 Till from its prow, his burnished harness lit 
 
 By the glad morning sun, with spear in hand 
 
 And waving plume, a knight springs to the 
 strand. 
 
2l6 BLANID. 
 
 Where er Love s flame with light immortal burns 
 What wondrous instinct in the bosom lies ! 
 
 Ah ! thus with her, the Bloom-bright One, by 
 
 turns 
 Her cheeks grow pale, then red as morning skies, 
 
 For well her heart foreknows whose footstep spurns 
 The white sands far beneath her, and her eyes 
 
 Shine with unwonted brightness as she sees 
 
 Cuhullin s long plume waving in the breeze ! 
 
 With red lips parted in a smile more sweet 
 Than roses smile in their first virgin bloom, 
 
 She turns, her golden-sandalled winsome feet 
 Tread with light step across the lordly room 
 
 As though they trod on air, her pulses beat 
 
 With a strange rapture, and her year of 
 gloom, 
 
 Like a black vision nigh the morning seen, 
 
 Seems all forgot, as though it ne er had been ! 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 217 
 
 Fast through a secret postern to the wood 
 Out glided she, and down a pathway sped 
 
 That wound by knolls of heather red as blood, 
 And decked with fresh flowers, to the harbor 
 led, 
 
 Till by a spreading oak she sudden stood 
 Irresolute, with a strange fear adread, 
 
 And sat her down in a faint musing fit, 
 
 And plucked a little flower and gazed on it. 
 
 And as she looked upon its petals bright 
 
 She thought of her lost home, her golden bower 
 
 In Mana, and her days of young delight 
 
 When she was fresh and pure as that sweet 
 flower ; 
 
 Then sprang she up, and like a dove aflight 
 From the quick forester s keen shaft of power, 
 
 Adown the path half blind with tears she ran, 
 
 Till where it reached the beach s sunny span, 
 
 10 
 
2l8 BLANID. 
 
 Beyond the wood shade, in the open ray 
 She saw a godlike form all glittering 
 
 With loving arms outstretched athwart her way ; 
 Then felt them closely round her press and 
 cling 
 
 In fond embrace, and heard a kind voice say, 
 " O love ! O love ! be this thy welcoming 
 
 To my true heart ! " then faded wood and shore 
 
 And for a space she saw and heard no more ! 
 
 She woke ; t was on a bank where o er them 
 spread 
 
 A young tree tween them and the joyous skies, 
 Upon his mail-clad arm her shining head 
 
 Was pillowed, and his large gray kingly eyes 
 Looked into hers with love unshadowed 
 
 By absence or the burning doubt that tries 
 The lover s heart with sevenfold fire : then she, 
 Forgetting for a time her misery, 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 2I 9 
 
 Slowly uprising, round his strong neck flung 
 
 Her arms, and hid gainst his her burning 
 face, 
 
 And as a wild vine the green woods among 
 Shivers wind-blown against its tree, a space 
 
 Around him, her strong refuge now, she clung 
 Trembling, then sudden sprang from his embrace 
 
 And "stood before him half af eard, half shy, 
 
 With drooping form and sad deploring eye. 
 
 And " O beloved ! " she cried, " think not of me 
 As once, when in the heyday of my fame 
 
 I won thy heart in virgin purity, 
 
 When princes from earth s farthest confines came 
 
 To court my smiles! now, now what dost thou 
 see 
 
 Before thee ? A poor wretch of blight and shame, 
 
 . 
 For whom the Fates a dismal doom have wove, 
 
 His blood-won slave despised, his thrall of love ! 
 
220 BLANID. 
 
 " Ah ! would this heart were dead, these eyes were 
 blind, 
 
 At rest from ceaseless torture day by day ! 
 Torture by his fell presence thrice refined ; 
 
 For though he loves in his rough soldier way, 
 I hate him tenfold among all mankind, 
 
 And, hating, must dissemble as I may, 
 Must cringe and lie, for I am brought so low 
 That pride and truth are conquered by my woe ! 
 
 " Arise then, O beloved one ! and depart, 
 And leave me to the woes I must endure ; 
 
 I am not worth thy faith : life hath its smart, 
 But death erelong will come and bring the cure ! " 
 
 He rose, he clasped her to his faithful heart, 
 
 And fondly cried, " To me thou rt bright and 
 pure, 
 
 O love ! and I will bear thee back with me, 
 
 And my young bride high honored shalt thou be ! " 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 2 2I 
 
 Ah ! well for them that Curoi with his knights 
 Is on the southern borders of his land, 
 
 Encamped amid the lovely pine-clad heights 
 That rise o er spreading Carra s silver strand ! 
 
 There roams he, tasting all the fresh delights 
 That woodcraft brings when summer winds are 
 bland, 
 
 Forgetting his fair prize and her sad lot, 
 
 And that wronged love revengeful sleepath not. 
 
 Again they sat beneath the leafy tree, 
 
 On the green flowery bank, gaze answering 
 
 gaze, 
 And word fond word, in love s fresh ecstasy, 
 
 As once before in those lost happy days 
 Far, far away in Mana of the Sea. 
 
 Thus sat they till the hot noon s torrid rays 
 Smote sea and wood, then down the pathway came 
 Unto their trysting-place the foster-dame. 
 
222 BLANID. 
 
 " And art thou come ? " she cried, " O valiant one ! 
 
 Hath love o er thy true heart such wondrous 
 
 power, 
 That thou in blind desire must heedless run 
 
 Into the lion s jaws for this poor flower? 
 Alas that ever shone the mocking sun 
 
 Upon our bootless rage ! This very hour 
 A courier crossed the bridge on courser light 
 To tell of bis great lord s return to-night. 
 
 "Arise then and depart! His purpose dread 
 I know not, yet I know that naught remains 
 
 For thee but instant flight, else on her head 
 Will fall his anger, and renewed pains 
 
 Will rive our hearts, and thou on dungeon 
 
 bed 
 Shalt lie beneath the moat in captive chains 
 
 Till into black despair thy warm heart sink, 
 
 Or the red block thy youthful blood shall drink. 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 223 
 
 " Depart ! depart ! The hour will yet draw near 
 For love and for thy vengeance long delayed : 
 
 The Summer flowers bloom bright by stream and 
 
 mere 
 
 And wood and crag, but thou must let them 
 fade 
 
 Thy vengeance still unwon ; then Autumn sere 
 Shall come, but when upon the moaning glade 
 
 Slain by the winds of Winter he expires 
 
 Mid Samhain s feast and sacrificial fires, 
 
 " Then do thou come, and with thy bravest band 
 Valiant and swift and sure, and here abide 
 
 Within this secret wood. Then Curoi s sand 
 Of life shall run its last, for I will guide 
 
 To vengeance sure and stern thine armed hand ! 
 Then in his hour of triumph and of pride 
 
 We 11 slay him as the forest dwellers slay 
 
 The wolf that bears their best-loved child away ! 
 
224 BLANID. 
 
 " And thou, poor child of many sorrows, lay 
 Thy face against this withered breast of mine 
 
 To shut from thy sad eyes the woful ray 
 
 That lights his parting footsteps ! Gaily shine 
 
 O er sea and hill the beams of middle day, 
 
 And ye must part, and thou must now un 
 twine 
 
 Thine arms from him, O maid!" and shudder- 
 ingly, 
 
 Moaning the while in her great agony, 
 
 Fair Blanid saw him go. Then as a wreath 
 Of snow at Springtide in the mountain pass 
 
 Slides from its cleft to the flat sward beneath, 
 So dropt she down upon the woodland grass 
 
 All motionless, as though she ne er would breathe 
 Earth s air again. Too soon, too soon, alas ! 
 
 She woke to weep, then rose and weeping still 
 
 With the old foster-dame went up the hill ! 
 
THE MEETING OF THE LOVERS. 
 
 225 
 
 Meanwhile Cuhullin plied the rapid oar 
 
 Of the light boat with gladsome heart and fond 
 
 Across the harbor, round the sea-cape hoar, 
 And into a lone wood-locked cove beyond, 
 
 Where sprang he lightly to the wave-ribbed shore 
 And up the wild-wood went, Love s golden 
 wand 
 
 Touching his heart with its sweet sorcery, 
 
 Till won he where a stream danced fresh and free 
 
 From ledge to ledge into a glade of green : 
 And there Loy waited, there the twain bestrode 
 
 Their steeds, and like a dream each changing 
 
 scene 
 Seemed hurrying by as in hot haste they rode 
 
 Unto the North, till, as with ray serene 
 Upon the mountain-tops the sunset glowed, 
 
 They laid them down and slept, and morn again 
 
 Found them fast speeding o er the perilous plain. 
 
 10* O 
 
226 BLANID. 
 
 THE SLAYING OF CUROI AND THE 
 REVENGE OF HIS MINSTREL. 
 
 REEN are the hills of early summer-time, 
 And lingering long their emerald glories fade, 
 When Autumn with slow steps begins to climb 
 Their breezy fronts from the brown forest 
 
 shade, 
 
 Nipping the grass and flowers with frosty rime, 
 Till long-drawn glen and bosky upland glade, 
 Broad shadowy moor and skyey mountain spire, 
 Put on their heathery robes of purple fire. 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROI. 227 
 
 And slowly as it comes, it fades away, 
 The glory of the heather s purple glow, 
 
 Like human grandeur born but to decay 
 
 As the long years glide on with footsteps 
 slow ; 
 
 The woods are bare, the hills are cold and gray, 
 The cheerless morns no genial heat bestow ; 
 
 And thus the earth changed with the changing sun 
 
 Till Winter and the Samhain feast came on. 
 
 One day, before the feast, the old dame sat 
 By the bower window of her foster child, 
 
 And looked upon the northern moorland flat, 
 And saw a horseman spurring from the wild, 
 
 And laughed, and rubbed her withered hands 
 
 thereat, 
 And on her foster daughter looked and smiled 
 
 A crafty smile, exulting as she said, 
 
 " Behold the first crumb of his bitter bread ! 
 
228 BLANID. 
 
 " I was not born yesterday. I know 
 
 The wiles of courts, the unstable hearts of men, 
 And this sweet tongue some little seed did sow 
 
 Within these walls, that have sprung up again 
 In fruit whose baleful taste is war and woe. 
 
 See the good horseman how he scours the 
 
 glen! 
 
 How up the stony path his harness rings ! 
 Black with fell wrath be all the news he brings ! " 
 
 With clash and clang the horseman passed the 
 gate, 
 
 With tottering steps he gained the lofty hall, 
 And to the knights assembled gan relate 
 
 How Roving Angus of the Iron Maul 
 Fell upon Lora, wreaking his fierce hate 
 
 On kith and kin of Ademar the Tall, 
 The bravest knight that e er in battle tide 
 Put lance in rest by noble Curoi s side. 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROL 
 
 229 
 
 And soon the northern causeway gleamed with steel, 
 As Ademar went off with all his power, 
 
 And as the sun with golden chariot-wheel 
 
 Had sought neath crimson clouds his western 
 bower, 
 
 With dying steed that scarce the spur could feel, 
 Another courier came from Barra s tower 
 
 To tell unto the knights his tale forlorn 
 
 How Talc the Pirate sacked it on that morn. 
 
 Next day a messenger from Brann the Red 
 With gory spur came o er the eastern moors 
 
 To tell them how the Hold of Dunigled 
 
 Was fast besieged by rascal slaves and 
 boors, 
 
 How scarce its ancient towers in conflict dread 
 Their ruffian war another day endures, 
 
 And asking for a gallant knightly band 
 
 With conquering spears to quell their bloody hand. 
 
230 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 And thus the couriers came ; thus forth they went, 
 The knights and men, to the far border lands, 
 
 And as an evil sprite from hell upsent 
 
 The old dame glided round and rubbed her 
 hands, 
 
 And smiled and leered in her false merriment, 
 And brewed her cruel plot, till of his bands 
 
 Remained with Curoi only ten good spears 
 
 When Samhain s sun rose o er the eastern meres. 
 
 An hour before the fires were all alight 
 
 By stead and town, temple, and village green, 
 
 In worship of the mild Queen of the night, 
 The old dame stole adown the forest screen, 
 
 Till by a lonely brook that took its flight 
 
 Murmuring two tangled banks of wood be 
 tween, 
 
 She found Dun Dalgan s lord in ambush hid 
 
 With many a mail-clad man the copse amid. 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROI. 231 
 
 " And O them faithful knight ! " she whispered low, 
 " The hour is nigh thine own beloved to save ; 
 
 Watch well this sounding stream, and when the glow 
 Thou mark st of white swan s feathers on its 
 wave 
 
 That I as signal for the deed shall throw 
 Into its bed above, then bare thy glaive 
 
 And with thy warriors storm the hold, and slay 
 
 And work the bitter vengeance as ye may ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, as evening o er the valleys threw 
 Its mantle gray, within his lordly hall 
 
 Sat the great knight amidst a merry crew 
 Of squires and pages, gladsome one and all ; 
 
 There some with eyes intent the hazard drew, 
 Some the white dice upon the board let fall, 
 
 Some quaffed the golden mead, some moved the 
 chess, 
 
 Laughing the while in their full happiness. 
 
232 BLANID. 
 
 Stately he sat, a smile on his brown face, 
 As he looked round upon the revelry, 
 
 His scarlet robe thrown back with kingly 
 
 grace, 
 His saffron tunic flowing to his knee, 
 
 With golden belt that showed the cunning trace 
 In gems of monsters of the land and sea, 
 
 With gorget glittering, and dark locks bare 
 
 Silvered a little by the helmet s wear. 
 
 In his right hand he raised a sparkling bowl, 
 And " Fill," he said, " O merry friends of 
 mine, 
 
 And drink unto the mistress of my soul, 
 Blanid, the peerless one, the dame divine ! 
 
 And though she weep betimes, as seasons roll, 
 May she wax glad again, and may she shine 
 
 In her bright beauty fresh as roses red 
 
 That deck the garden bowers when Winter s dead ! " 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROT. 233 
 
 And she within her bower lay hid, each sound 
 From the far banquet-hall that reached her ear 
 
 Making her heart with new-fledged terrors 
 
 bound ; 
 While the old foster-dame went far and near 
 
 From door to door the joyous castle round, 
 And oft into the banquet-hall would peer, 
 
 Oft to the postern gate would secret go, 
 
 Watching her time the signal white to throw. 
 
 And still within the darksome forest glen 
 
 Cuhullin lay, and watched the darkness come, 
 
 And all was silent round, save now and then 
 
 From the bright castle doors would float a 
 hum 
 
 Of merriment, or from the moory fen 
 
 The curlew s whistle or the bittern s drum 
 
 Would sound inconstant, till a breeze blew chill, 
 
 And the white moon clomb o er the eastern hill. 
 
234 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Then all at once the Samhain fires outblazed 
 
 To welcome night s mild Empress, bright and 
 high 
 
 On the round-shouldered mountains some upraised, 
 Some low adown flaring against the sky ; 
 
 But noting naught of them, Cuhullin gazed 
 Into the darksome waters hurrying by, 
 
 Starting at every leaf and moonlight gleam 
 
 That whirled and flashed upon the lonely stream. 
 
 At length, as higher rose the moon s pale rays 
 Over the withered trees, and on the tide 
 
 Flickered in flakes of snowy pearl, his gaze 
 
 Caught the first gleaming of the white swan s 
 pride 
 
 Floating adown ; and as a wolf that stays 
 All night within his lair, and long has eyed 
 
 Its woodland prey and sees it near, he sprang 
 
 Unto his feet, and while with mighty clang 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROL 235 
 
 Of mail-jacks and of clattering spears, his kin 
 Followed him, cross the stream he sprang, and 
 fast 
 
 Out from the shadow of the dark ravine 
 
 And up the moonlit hill-sides fierce they passed 
 
 Unto the castle gate with furious din, 
 
 And fell on the scant guard, who all aghast 
 
 Stood at the porch and met the bloody shock 
 
 Like withered fern before the falling rock. 
 
 And then, as ocean s tide, wild wave on wave, 
 Driven before the storm, with deafening roar, 
 
 Hurry, and turmoil fills some yawning cave 
 
 Tossing its spray on high, so through the door, 
 
 In one bewildering whirl of plume and glaive, 
 They filled the hall, and with dread shouts down 
 bore 
 
 The revellers faint resistance, all save him 
 
 Who now stood looking on them cold and grim. 
 
236 BLANID. 
 
 Against the wall he stood, his eagle eye 
 Glancing around upon the bloody wrack 
 
 Seeking his foe, then reached his hand on high 
 And seized a brazen maul, and to the attack 
 
 Like the red lightning-bolt that cleaves the sky 
 He sprang, and, for a moment s space, beat back 
 
 The hedge of spears, till, drenched with hostile 
 blood, 
 
 He gained the spot where fierce Cuhullin stood. 
 
 There from a soldier s arm he tore the targe 
 
 And poised it o er his breast with warm blood 
 wet, 
 
 And with tall knee advanced looked o er its marge 
 Into his foeman s eyes, and, fearless yet, 
 
 With a great bound leapt forward to the charge, 
 Shouting his cry of war, but ere they met, 
 
 Pierced by a score of spears he fell, the tide 
 
 Of life fast welling from his riven side. 
 
THE SLAYING OF CUROL 
 
 237 
 
 Then hard a jackman smote him as he bled, 
 But as the spear-but whirled on high again, 
 
 Cuhullin sheered away the caitiff s head, 
 
 And kneeling down in strange remorse and 
 pain 
 
 By the great knight, " O man of men ! " he said, 
 " I d give my life and all my broad domain 
 
 To see thee as thou wert, my brother true 
 
 In camp and court ere strife between us grew ! " 
 
 Once moved his lips with words he could not say, 
 Once rolled his eyes his ruined hall around, 
 
 And he was dead ! Upon the hill-side gray, 
 
 High o er the mournful beach, they made his 
 mound ; 
 
 And as the mountain tops neath morning s ray 
 Threw off their circling vapors, northward bound, 
 
 Cuhullin rode along the woodlands bare 
 
 With his stout followers and his lady fair. 
 
238 BLANID. 
 
 Upon the new-raised mound all drearily 
 Sat Curoi s minstrel brooding in his woe, 
 
 One day that upward moaning from the sea 
 
 Through the sere wood the wind began to blow : 
 
 Naught recked he of the wild wind s wrath or 
 
 glee, 
 For of the mighty man who lay below 
 
 Sleeping for aye the thoughts would constant rise 
 
 And swell his heart and blind with tears his eyes. 
 
 At length he took his harp, and, low at first, 
 Woke its thin voice in mournful preludings ; 
 
 Then high and clear a wailing strain outburst 
 Neath his light fingers from the trembling 
 strings ; 
 
 Then frowning with black brows like one athirst 
 For blood and for the joy that vengeance brings, 
 
 He left the mound, strode down the hill-side gray, 
 
 And to the northward took his weary way. 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 
 
 239 
 
 And many a sight he saw by dale and down, 
 
 Wandering till Winter s snows began to fade 
 From the rejoicing hills, and his renown 
 
 Preceded him, and wheresoe er he strayed 
 The people flocked from village, tower, and town 
 
 To hear the wondrous music that he made 
 On his weird harp, a thing from heaven down- 
 sent, 
 
 \ 
 
 And crowned him first of bards where er he went ! 
 
 The village urchin and the maiden shy, 
 
 The matron staid, the soldier brave and young, 
 
 The aged carle, stood each with tearful eye 
 
 And wept betimes at the sad songs he 
 sung; 
 
 And thus he roamed till day by day the sky 
 Grew warmer, and the budding blossoms hung 
 
 From the laburnum and the lilac pale, 
 
 And the young grass in emerald robed the vale. 
 
240 BLANID. 
 
 And day by day, as still he wandered on 
 
 From side to side, but always north, the hills 
 
 Grew brighter, o er the breezy moorlands dun 
 The young lambs gambolled, and the streams 
 and rills 
 
 Sang songs of gladness, for the amorous sun 
 Kissed them not vainly, till with gentle thrills 
 
 The warm winds played amidst the opening bowers, 
 
 And all the meads were gay with Springtide flowers. 
 
 And Summer came ; the corn-stalks marshalled 
 stood 
 
 O er the bright fields in all their greenery, 
 The foxglove s glorious crimson edged the wood, 
 
 The wild rose laughed, the gleaming apple-tree 
 Showered down its blossoms on the linnet s brood 
 
 That chirped amid its branches ; glad and free 
 All things o er Nature s throbbing bosom glowed, 
 Save the fierce minstrel on his weary road. 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 
 
 241 
 
 And as he wandered on, one sunny day, 
 
 Where four roads crossed within a beechen 
 screen 
 
 He saw through the thin branches far away 
 The glint of mail-rings and the brassy sheen 
 
 Of targets and the glow of helmets gay, 
 Of scarlet mantles and of tunics green, 
 
 And dim beneath the sun-enlivened trees 
 
 A country multitude surrounding these. 
 
 And as with weary steps he drew anigh, 
 Four trumpeters on silver trumpets played 
 
 A melody with long-drawn notes and high, 
 Then a great cymbal-clash wild clamor made ; 
 
 And then a stately man with haughty eye, 
 
 The king s own herald, in bright robes 
 arrayed, 
 
 Upraised his truncheon with red gold aflame, 
 
 And to the wondering people gan proclaim : 
 ii p 
 
242 
 
 BLAXID. 
 
 " O men ! O men ! O men ! pale Death is strong 
 And life is weak ; and, like the withered grass, 
 
 Before his dreadful scythe the lord of song, 
 
 The King s own bard, to Death s ditn realm did 
 pass 
 
 Not long ago ; and now all things are wrong 
 With the great King, for, like false-sounding brass, 
 
 Or jarring notes of a cracked virginal, 
 
 The next bard s songs upon his sad ears fall ! 
 
 "And tis for this the silver trumpets blow, 
 For this the brazen cymbals clash and ring, 
 
 And t is for this I wander to and fro, 
 
 To find a bard will please my lord the King ; 
 
 And I have journeyed far, and yet must go 
 Still farther, till to Eman s halls I bring 
 
 Some wondrous bard, some magic-fingered one, 
 
 Will please my lord the King like him that s 
 gone ! " 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 
 
 243 
 
 Then sat the dust-soiled minstrel sullen down, 
 Unslung his harp and bared its strings of gold 
 
 Before them all, and, with a troubled frown, 
 Played a light-tinkling prelude, and, behold ! 
 
 Strange bliss the listeners cares began to drown ; 
 Thenvoiceand harp-notes, mingled sweet, uprolled 
 
 In a great soul-entrancing wondrous lay 
 
 That stole the hearts from out their breasts 
 straightway ! 
 
 And when the lay was done, a glad thrill ran 
 
 Through the great crowd, and high before them all 
 
 The herald spoke: "O sweet-tongued, marvellous 
 
 man, 
 Blest be the day I see thee ! Bitter gall 
 
 Seems the best music that since life began 
 I ve heard near thine. Never, in cot or hall, 
 
 Heard serf, or lord, or lady, one like thee ! 
 
 Arise, and come to the King s house with me ! " 
 
244 BLANID. 
 
 And so it fell the minstrel must abide 
 In the King s house, in gay apparel clad, 
 
 And many a merry lay he sang belied 
 
 His inward thoughts, for a sore heart he 
 had. 
 
 Then came the Beltain feast, when all the pride 
 Of Ulad s nobles came with bosoms glad 
 
 From many a moated town to Eman s hall 
 
 At the king s word to hold high festival. 
 
 And there Cuhullin came ; and with him came 
 Bright Blanid, and love s boundless happiness 
 
 Had blotted from her mind the very name 
 And memory of the bard, yet none the less 
 
 The dark man with his furtive eyes of flame 
 
 Eyed her with rage his soul could scarce suppress, 
 
 As through the gorgeous throng each day she 
 moved 
 
 In peerless beauty loving and beloved. 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 245 
 
 Three days the feast went on ; on the fourth morn 
 The glad hawks shook their wings and silver 
 bells 
 
 In the King s mews, the hounds, that all forlorn 
 In kennel slept, now woke with joyous yells 
 
 As the King s huntsman wound his echoing horn ; 
 And soon both King and court amid the dells 
 
 With hawk and hound went out to hunt the deer 
 
 And start the heron gray by brook and mere. 
 
 Three days they hunted ; on the third the chase 
 Led them unto the high top of a hill, 
 
 And there upon a breezy sunlit space 
 
 They reined their steeds ; before them a bright rill 
 
 Ran through a ferny gorge down th eastern face 
 Of a steep slope in glittering falls, until 
 
 It reached a dale, where neath man s peaceful reign 
 
 Spread homesteads, gardens, groves, and fields of 
 grain. 
 
246 BLANID. 
 
 Beyond the dale s rich verge, embellished 
 By many a stately tree, a forest grew, 
 
 Then a broad gleaming moorland far outspread, 
 Wrapped in light azure haze, then to the 
 view 
 
 A cape raised high its wave-impending head, 
 Then shimmering golden-green and silvery blue, 
 
 Like a wide mead of Asphodel, the sea 
 
 Stretched to the heavens its grand immensity. 
 
 Adown the slope they went, across the plain 
 
 And thro the wood and up the cape s proud neck 
 
 To the flat top, where the soft summer rain 
 
 Brought from the grass wild-flowers in many a 
 speck. 
 
 There from their steeds they lighted, and full fain 
 The squires and pages at the blithe King s beck 
 
 Went to and fro, in merry mood, while fast 
 
 They pitched the tents and spread the gay repast. 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 247 
 
 And as they sat, in glorious symphony 
 The sea made music, and the summer air 
 
 Played in the branches of each wildwood tree 
 That round the cape s flat top grew here and there ; 
 
 The heavens shone bright, and midst that company 
 The mead went round in jewelled goblets rare, 
 
 The wine-cup sparkled, eyes met loving eyes, 
 
 And young hearts throbbed, and laughter gay 
 did rise. 
 
 Then some to cull the mountain flowers would go, 
 Some danced upon the sward, within the tent 
 
 Some hid them from the noontide sultry glpw, 
 Some plied the wine-cup in light merriment ; 
 
 And she, the Bloom-bright One, now wandered 
 
 slow 
 Down to the cape s impending verge, and leant 
 
 Against an aged thorn that drooping stood 
 
 Through many a changing year o er ocean s flood. 
 
248 
 
 BLANID. 
 
 Pensive she stood against the mossy stem 
 
 In her full joy, the roses of life s May 
 Tingeing her cheeks once more, and many a 
 
 gem 
 
 Sparkling within her tresses golden gay ; 
 Over the waves she leant, and looked on them 
 
 As one who on a village green the play 
 Of children sees, and smiles as memory 
 Brings back some glimpse of childhood and its glee. 
 
 Anigh her sat the bard, his dark head bare, 
 
 His wild keen eyes with a strange brightness 
 filled, 
 
 The sea-breeze blowing through his curling hair, 
 The sunshine gleaming as if but to gild 
 
 His harp-frame richly wrought ; and smiling there 
 Anon the King came down, then sweetly thrilled 
 
 The music, and the courtiers gathered round 
 
 To hear the wondrous bard his harp-strings sound. 
 
REVENGE OF THE MINSTREL. 
 
 249 
 
 Then soft he touched the strings and made them 
 speak 
 
 In low love music, whose delightful tone 
 Deepened the roses red on Blanid s cheek, 
 
 Now like high trumpets on a war-field blown 
 He clashed the wires and sang, then low and weak 
 
 In dying sobs the melody did moan, 
 Then voice and strings broke forth in one wild wail 
 Of woe, that up the bright heaven seemed to sail ! 
 
 Up sprang he then, his eyes with rage alight, 
 And dashed his harp down with a crashing clang, 
 
 And clutched the Bright One, and ere lord or 
 
 knight 
 Could rush between them, o er the cliff he sprang, 
 
 Clutching her closely still ! Along the height 
 His last weird shout of vengeance lessening rang, 
 
 As far beneath amid the breakers roar 
 
 They disappeared, and ne er were looked on more ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
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