SINGING FIRES OF ERIN ELEANOR ROGERS COX m w& \ m ■ WW." "" , Pit ' j ■ I ■ .(1 nass T5 : Book ■ (, _ Gopyright>i?_ ) Cj f fc COPYRIGHT DEPOSIIi SINGING FIRES OF ERIN o c/5 W s o u < (73 S1D51D5 F1126S OF GRID By ELEANOR. ROGERS <30X NewYoricJOHN LANE COMPANYMCMXVI COPYRIGHT, igi6. By JOHN LANE COMPANY All rights of reproduction of the designs in this volume are reserved by the artist, Mr. John P. Campbell. Press of J. J. Little & Ives Company New York, U. S. A. APR i3 1916 ©CLA427669 fer i TO ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES THESE SONGS OF HEROIC IRELAND, WRITTEN IN THE UNITED STATES, ARE DEDICATED, IN MEMORY OF HIS LONG, DEVOTED AND HONORABLE SONG-SERVICE TO THAT DEAR MOTHERLAND / T*HE author returns thanks for permis- -*■ sion to use in this collection of her poems, those which have appeared in The Century Magazine, The Smart Set, The New York Times, Harper's Weekly, The Rosary, the Gaelic-American, The Irish- American, Sinn Fein, etc. Contents Singing Fires PAGE Singing Fire II Deirdre to her Women 13 Finovar Dead 18 Gods and Heroes of the Gael ... 21 A Greek Lover of Queen Maeve . . 24 A Song of Cormac Conloingias ... 27 iEngus Og and the Swan-Maiden . . 31 To your Palace of Golden Dreams, O iEngus! 33 One Goes to Brugh 36 The Coming of Lugh 37 Dectera's Cradle-Song to Cuchulain . 39 Song of Emer 41 A Ballad of Dead Queens .... 43 Death of Cuchulain 45 The Coming of Finn 48 Goddess and Poet 51 A Ballad of Queen Etain .... 53 The Spirits Mourn for JEngus ... 56 7 CONTENTS A Hosting of Heroes A Hosting of Heroes . The Dream of iEngus Og . Flight of Diarmuid and Grainne Diarmuid and Grainne at the Forest Dooris Grainne Returns to Tara . Cuchulain Cuchulain's Wooing . Emer's Girlhood .... Cuchulain to the Poets . An Earth Spirit .... The Magic Isles of Manannan The Last of the Fianna . Of One Who Died in Murias The Sleeping Knight Dreaming of Cities Dead . The Singers to Their Lady . An Irish Enchantment . O Radiant Faith of Ireland Legendary and Mythological Index of 61 63 66 70 73 78 80 82 84 86 87 90 93 95 98 100 101 103 107 8 I SINGING FIRES Singing Fire (SABA COMES TO FINN) In beauty clad as in a singing fire, And soft as stars that down the twilight creep, So from the greenwood in the day's rose- dawning, She came to Finn across the fields of Sleep. Athwart the gates of Sleep she shone upon him, And in his soul awoke young April streams Of Hope, of Joy, of poet-love supernal, And filled with singing fire were all his dreams. And waking with the morn's first argent gleaming, To faery harpings in the grass and air, ii SINGING FIRES OF ERIN The woodland maid predestined for his mating, Earth's virgin flower she stood before him there. Within her eyes the calm of sylvan spaces By any wind of mortal life unstirred, And silver cadences of elfin laughter Under the moon in forest-places heard. And all around them rose a flame of sing- ing, Wherein all breathing Nature bore its part, As, with high vows of knightly faith un- swerving, Finn drew the dream-seen Saba to his heart. So, from the light of deathless love en- kindled In their bright spirits on that gracious morn, A star to shine on Eire's way forever, The singing fire of Ossian's song was born. 12 Deirdre to Her Women Now Night, a purple wizard, down the hills Walks, and the shadows with strange whis- pers fills, And broken laughter-drifts, and ... a little tune Naoise and I sang often to the Moon; A song of two who once upon a night Had fled and wed in a High King's despite, And seaward laughing from his anger ran Down cloudy ways untrod of god or man; And so took ship . . . but wherefore tell again A story time-dried on the lips of men : Time-dried, time-cried, for to earth's ut- most years, Lovers, I think, shall speak this thing with tears ; And harpers chaunt to chords of cadenced pain, 13 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN How Deirdre widowed was, and Naoise slain ; Their glance enfettered by that thrice-filled grave, And the pale Queen who loved, but might not save. . . . But not thus shall you speak it — you who know With what unquelled soul in high ways I go; Bringing unto the state of Ulster's king Such pride as it is meet his Queen should bring; Such pride as one may know who from Life's heart Seized with sure hands its one unfailing part; Holding it yet, yea, even through this Night, This dearth of all desire and all delight, Undimmed as on that hour it first became Life of her own life, flame of her soul's flame. 14 DEIRDRE TO HER WOMEN But say it over and over again — like this : In slow-paced words, such as befit the tongue Of mortals gauging an immortal bliss : "For seven full years, strong, beautiful and young, These twain dwelt in a wood beyond the seas, Knew the wild fellowship of sun and breeze, With lips untired each morning quaffed Life's cup, That laughter, song and loveliness brimmed up; And counting, level-eyed, their rapture's cost, Cried ever, 'Well for this is all else lost! Yea, well for this that yet upon a morn Whereof the gods know, Death the mate twin-born, The bane, the flower, the crowning of our love, Shall smite out utterly the light thereof; Shall smite the cup alike from hand and mouth 15 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN While yet the clasp is strong, unquencht the drouth, Shall make of this, our Love's bright- blossomed prime, Only a wailing on the lips of Time.' " Yea, had this life lasted but seven days, Yet were it matter for wonder and great praise : For well you know how Love's red cheek grows pale Oft in a week, and honey-cloyed and stale, Ere ever yet a new moon take the place Of that which smiled upon its infant face. And if, as presently, perchance I chose The bonds of this too-shining state to loose ; If, from this splendid void and nothing- ness, Your twilight faces, Conchubar's caress, I step with foot and spirit unafraid Into that other Void where Naoise's shade Wanders, awaiting mine, be yours this pride To tell how well it was we loved and died: 16 DEIRDRE TO HER WOMEN Adding this word to make your tale com- plete, "Where great Love is, Death is not, nor Defeat." 17 Finovar Dead Down the dark ways, down the dim ways, down the ways unknown, Finovar, beloved of princes, lo, she goes alone ! She whose face a rose of flame shone where the sword-blades crossed, She whose love a windy flame led where Death's whirlpools tossed; She the wine of whose bright beauty dashed from waiting lips, Earth for thought of that it loses bows in awed eclipse. Poppies, poppies, scarlet poppies for her brow and breast — Shall not Death himself come kneeling to receive this guest? Down the wraith-pale line of heroes what red joy shall run, As among them yet ensanguined of the wind and sun, 18 FINOVAR DEAD Flower-crowned, gold-crowned, fair past any eyes of men have known, Shines their lady's face upon them as of old it shone. What mad poet raised that chaunting? Bid him thitherwards — Mark how still to-day the princess goes among her lords; Still as Ferdia on that morning when upon their shields Backward here his warriors bore him through the sleeping fields; Still as crimson plains of battle in a win- ter's dawn, Beacon-fires turned pallid ashes, warring armies gone. All the beauty of the world is less for that she takes With her where no blast of morning Night's dim empire shakes ; In far Brugh love's eye seeks jEngus through a clouding rain, 19 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Twilight-pale the incensed fires on his altars wane : And a wind of Danaan laughter flies along the swords, Where the silent hosts of Erin camp be- side the fords. 20 Gods and Heroes of the Gael Forth in shining phalanx marching from the shrouding mists of time, Bright the sunlight on their foreheads, bright upon their golden mail, Lord of beauty, lords of valor, lords of Earth's unconquered prime, Come the gods, the kings, the heroes of the Gael. Lugh, the splendor of whose shining lit the forest and the fen, He whose smile at first illuming all the shadow-haunted space Of the vast, primeval ranges, death- engirdled, shunned of men, Over virgin seas to Erin led our race. Mananaan, great lord of Ocean — he whose fair domain outspread Wheresoever tides foam-flowered to the moon's high mandate move, 21 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN iEngus, clothed in youth immortal, on im- mortal ardors fed, Who of old in golden Brugh reigned lord of Love. And his name a knightly pennon on the ramparts of the world, And his fame a fire unfailing on Time's utmost purple height, Erin's peerless gage of courage to the vaunting ages hurled — Sunward evermore Cuchulain holds his flight. They are coming with the silver speech of Erin on their lips ; The speech that once of all the mighty Celtic race made kin, They are coming with the laughter that has known no age-eclipse, They are coming with the songs beloved of Finn. Yea, with gifts regenerating to all men of women born — 22 GODS AND HEROES OF GAEL Flame of courage that shall fade not, flame of truth that shall not fail, To the music of a thousand harps they're marching through the Morn, Deathless gods and kings and heroes of the Gael! 23 A Greek Lover of Queen Maeve How shall my song reach to her where afar, She walks by streams unlit of sun or star; Walks dreamingly, as one who in a glass Beholds the wraiths of perished lovers pass: Smiling to each pale face with lips that saith, "How fares it, love, in the dim fields of Death?" For just with such a smile — earth's last delight — Glanced she adown the torchlit hall that night; Herself a white rose 'mid a hedge of spears, Set far past range of mortal hopes or fears: So steel-bright 'mid its steel engirdlement, Shone that white, moveless face upon me bent. 24 A LOVER OF QUEEN MAEVE White face — whose fame on scented sea- winds sped, Me thitherwards to that far land had led, From templed groves where sage and stu- dent walked, And storied ways where moonlight lovers talked ; From all delights of mind and heart that lie Betwixt our kind Athenian soil and sky. But ah, that hour, which far repaid all cost Of lesser loves, of gods and country lost, When on a dream-starred night that great Queen leant Her cheek to mine, and all our spirits blent In one long wonder-glance, one earth- eclipse Of touching hands, of meeting eyes and lips ! A time for all things — with unfluttered breath 25 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN The flame-bright lips proclaimed — "His sentence — Death !" While wild, reverberate echoes of her word The brazen rafters of the palace stirred, And hail-swift down on sense and sound and sight The smiting shields descended through the night. Bright love, delight and death — for this I came To that far land : for this a little flame Smaller than any star on night's pale edge, My soul, a white moth flits by sand and sedge ; Flits evermore, till in the ceaseless whir Of Time's great wings it win again to her. 26 A Song of Cormac Conloingias i THE PLANTING OF THE TREE "That something shall remain to tell Of all the joy that once was ours, Of all our high and dream-filled hours Ere ever Death upon us fell. For sight, for sign, for memory Of all that made our love divine, Lo, here," she said, "O Cormac mine, I plant this day a little tree." "For that first day when here you came, For that first hour when in our eyes Shone forth in mutual, swift surprise Our spirits' new-enkindled flame. For that long wonder-night when I, Our love's first consecrating kiss Yet on my mouth, in sleepless bliss Watched till the morn flamed down the sky." 27 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN "This little tree — to moon and star, Through all the star-filled nights of June, Its leaves shall sing a magic rune To woo us from the shades afar. The sea-bound winds shall list the tale, And to the utmost isles of earth Shall bear it on, till midst their mirth Kings at its hearing shall grow pale." "For you, O Cormac, son of kings — Fire in your veins and on your lips — Already lowers Death's eclipse, Your dirge the white Shee-maiden sings. Though diamond - bright is Emain's throne, And many roads to Emain lead, And you are last of Connor's seed, You ride a darker road alone." "For I, whose love a net of Death Was round about your spirit cast, Behold, even now, I hold you fast By spell of eyes and hands and breath. My treasure plucked from out the core Of life at its resplendent prime, 28 SONG OF CORMAC CONLOINGIAS My love, whom Death, the lord of Time, Shall seal mine own forevermore." "Yea, mine past hap of mortal change, Past other loves to come between, Past lure of goddess or of queen, Past beauty's waning to estrange. Though all our life's high holiday Draw to a twilight grey and chill, Though gift of years were mine to will, I would not, dare not, bid you stay." II THE CRIMSON FRUITAGE Out of the West the King's son came, Through flame of the dying day rode he, And where the rowans lean to the South, Deep in the garden of my mouth He planted flowering kisses three. He said that he would come again, He plucked the rowan berries red, He fashioned them into a crown, 29 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN And from his fair height stooping down, He bound and wound them round my head. And swift and sweet across my eyes The life-touch of his lips flashed then: "And thus," he said, "O heart's delight, I lay me on your breath and sight, To keep until I come again." And now the rowan boughs are brown, But red the roads from Connacht are, And they have raised his Ogham stone O'er Cormac where he sleeps alone, From Emain of the Kings afar. 3° iEngus Og and the Swan-Maiden Rose-red o'er the glimmering marshes, Rose-red o'er the darkling lake, Lo ! the face of the Dawn outflashes From the faery Moon's grey wake, And I through the reeds elve-haunted, The road to my true love take. Rose-white is the breast of my true love- Yea, whiter than drifting snow; And for her are the dim reeds singing A murmurous sleep-song low, iVs yonder beneath their shadows Dreaming her white wings go. Rose of the Dawn, 'mid the lilies, Her flower-fair way she keeps, How from that dream shall I rouse her, How for the spirit that sleeps, Give her the soul of a woman, A woman that laughs and weeps. 3i SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Rose of the World! from thy dreaming I bid thee awake ! Arise ! From the floor of the shimmering waters, From the roof of the open skies, Come with the love-light gleaming In thy heart, thy lips, thine eyes! Rose of my life, and its crowning! Flower of the Dream and the Dawn, Now is my long quest over, Now is the grim Night gone, Yonder the sun exultant Rises and beckons us on 1 32 To Your Palace of Golden Dreams, O iEngus! To your palace of golden dreams, O JEngusl Lo, to rekindle a dream one goes, To your garden of golden dreams, O iEngus ! One to garner the Deathless Rose. And the sun and the moon and the stars, O iEngus ! And twilight and night and the rose-red dawn And the singing waves of the sea, O iEngus ! Are wooing and luring my footsteps on. And the song you sang to Etain, O iEngus, And the song the swan-maid sang to you And the singing waves of the sea, O iEngus ! Are wafting my spirit back to Brugh. 33 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN To Brugh where lingers the Love that dies not, To Brugh where yet of the years un- dimmed, Bright as the stars of Earth's first morn- ing, Dwells the Beauty of poets hymned. And one with the rising day, O iEngus, Shall come to you, call to you, sleeping there, And you from the shrouding clay, O iEngus ! Shall rise flame-bright to your poet's prayer. 34 One Goes to Brugh Here, where silence like a prayer, Binds the spirit in its spell, Here where peerless, shining, fair, Thou, O iEngus, once didst dwell ! Here, where guided by the gleam Of no earth-seen sun or star, I the Dreamer of a Dream, Come to thee from fields afar. Here, where ranged like wizards hoar, Brooding through the tranced day, On the rites they knew of yore, Rise the Druid-altars grey. Here to grace thy poet's sighs, Here to gladden soul and sight, Wilt thou not awake and rise, Crowned and plumed and wreathed with light? 35 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Girt about with singing flame, Through whose radiance one may see Gold-bright birds that hymn thy name In a dreaming ecstasy. Swifter than a poet's thought Borne upon the wings of Morn, Rise, with love and rapture fraught To all men of women born ! 36 The Coming of Lugh DECTERA SINGS Awake, my soul! Awake, and sing! Across the foam's white blossoming Comes now thy lover and thy king. The cuckoo calls the drowsing May, Behind the whitethorn's latticed spray The blackbird pipes his heart away. A magic laughter floods and fills The song of Spring-awakened rills, And unseen harpers walk the hills. Along the mountains' purple ledge The Shee arise from fern and sedge To dance upon the daylight's edge. Through all green life that buds and blows, And with glad Summer's prescience glows, A rout of Danaan laughter goes. 37 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN And I, the mortal girl who won Thy love, O brightest-shining one, Await thee here, my life, my Sun ! 38 Dectera's Cradle-Song to Cuchulain It was great Lugh himself from heaven, Came down to be my lord, my love, To me his plighted faith was given, And this, the flower and fruit thereof. Then sing, my soul, thy lord the sun, Sing for the little life begun; Sing for the crown thy land hath won To light her brows forever. My little son ! whose shining way Shall lie across the risen day; Thee Fear shall touch not, nor dismay, Nor blight of mortal sorrow. A laughter on the edge of swords, A war-song chaunted at the fords, A death-bolt launched 'mid hostile hordes, O child who shall withstand thee? 39 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN A torch to guide the eyes of men Past deeps of quicksand and of fen, Beyond where even thy mother's ken May follow, lo, thy way lies ! Far, far beyond the furthest flight Of song or star, thy fame's fair flight, As, son of Light, towards the light Thou goest forever. 40 Song of Emer In the red of the windy Dawn, Through the honey-sweet, dew-bright clover, Over mount, over mead, over lawn He is coming, my lord, my lover ! From the heart of the utmost Night Where nor elf-flame nor star-flame lightens, Lo, he holds to my heart his flight, Lo, he comes with a brow that bright- ens! There is laughter upon his mouth For the rapturous mirth of living, For the lips that shall slake its drouth And sing to the gods for the giving. There is laughter for battles won, There is laughter for Right defended, There is laughter for Justice done, In the blue eye falcon-splendid. 4i SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Where the red of his chariot gleams There are songs on the lips of women, There is praise on the tongue of Queens, There is Fear on the face of foemen. And bright as his sun-bright sword When it leaps to the foeman's slaying, Is the light on the head of my lord, Is the light on his gold hair playing. And when in the unseen days The poets their praises chaunting, Shall utter Cuchulain's praise, Shall sing of his valor vaunting: Me too, his beloved, they shall sing, No praise to my name refusing, The Queen of their soul's dead King, The bride of his heart's first choosing. 42 A Ballad of Dead Queens [emer] In all the twilight realm of dreams, I wis, There walks no Queen so high-hearted as this, Who, gazing on her King and Sweetheart dead, Sped forth her soul to his in one last kiss. Other great Queens in that dim purple space There dwell, of whose bright loveliness and grace Poets have sung, until some trait of theirs Each lover sees in his own lady's face. The shining Daughter of the Swan, and she Who once with Tristram on a summer sea Under the witch-light of a waning moon Drank deep the chalice of their destiny. 43 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Pale Guinevere, her eyes yet heavy-fraught With dreams of two who rode to Camelot, And mouth that still, for all the dead, dumb years Is dewy with the breath of Lancelot. But on her heart the Rose Inviolate Of love triumphant over Death and Fate, Of Love that perished on the lips that fed, Queen Emer holds unchanged her royal state. 44 Death of Cuchulain Silent are the singers in the purple halls of Emain, Silent all the harp-strings untouched of any hand, Wan as twilight-roses the radiant, royal women, Black upon the hearthstone the erst- while flaming brand. Inward far from ocean the storm's white birds are flying, Darting, like dim wraith-flames across the falling night, Winds like a caoine through the quicken- groves are sighing, On no lip is laughter, in no heart de- light. For thitherwards witch-wafted athwart the sundering spaces, Lo, a word doom-freighted unto Con- chubar has come, 45 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Whispering of one who in far-off, hostile places Strikes a last defending blow for king and home. And the King pacing lone in his place of High Decision, Gazing with wrapt eyes on that far- flung battle-plain, Through the red rains rising beholds with startled vision Sight such as man's eye shall not see again. For one there is dying, of his foes at last outnumbered, One whose soul a sword was, shaped by God's own hand, One who guarded Ulaidh when all her knighthood slumbered, Prone beneath the curse laid of old upon the land. And dying so, alone, of all mortal aid forsaken, 46 DEATH OF CUCHULAIN Dead his peerless war-steeds, dead his charioteer, Yet the high splendor of his spirit all un- shaken, Shines morning-bright through the Death-mists drawing near. And radiant round his brow yet the hero- flame is gleaming, And firm yet his footstep upon the red- dened sod, As with sword uplifted towards the day's last beaming, Forth goes the spirit of Cuchulain unto God. Leaving to his land and the Celtic race forever That which shall not fail them through- out the fading years, Heritage of faith unchanged, of fear- undimmed endeavor, And a quenchless laughter ringing down the edge of hostile spears. 47 The Coming of Finn "The Norsemen's ships are in the Bay, To-morrow ere the throstle calls Good-morning to the risen day, The wizard comes to fire my walls." "The gods are of inconstant mind, And of their ancient faith forswore, The sun, the moon, the stars, the wind, I pray to them, but pray no more." So spake King Cormac to his lords, In Erin's ancient council-place, A freighted silence drank his words, And no man looked him in the face. But at the outer portal came The answer to a challenge flung, An age-grey Druid spoke the name Of Cumhal, long of poets sung. 4 8 THE COMING OF FINN And with that saying one strode in, Of height so great, of mien so fair, The high gods might have deemed him kin, Nor less he seemed to any there. u And what strange word is this I hear?" He said, "that strikes your laughter still, That through the Dawn a Shape of Fear Walks unassailed on Tara's Hill?" "That, kindled by his baleful hands, The flames shall flash on Tara's height, And Tara's self be but a brand Flung red against the morn's pale light!" "And, for this Shape derives its birth From spirits to our land malign, Shall it be whispered round the earth That Erin's valor grows supine?" u Nay, never so; against all odds Of Hate, of Treachery, of Force, 49 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Of jealous men or hostile gods Must Erin's knighthood hold its course." "And I, unto her service vowed, Ere ever yet the morrow's born, Myself shall seek this wizard proud, And smite him hence to shame and scorn ! ,!" So spoke great Finn, his task begun, So, Fear-destroying down the day Flamed Erin's young, imperial Sun Of Truth and Faith and Chivalry. 50 Goddess and Poet With Love-sandalled feet o'er-stepping Night's ensabled bars, With thy maiden train descending Down a stair of stars: Far beyond the utmost splendor Of Desire or dream, Thou upon thy poet's vision, Goddess, soon shall't gleam! Each man's vision to his fancy — Mine was one of flame, Wandering here 'mid Beltane fires Oft I called thy name ; Called as mortal to immortal, Answer hoping none, Save the mirthless voice of Echo Down the hillsides blown. But the stars sang all together, As the wondering Night Held ajar her purple portals For thine earthward flight: 51 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Flashed the swift, auroral radiance Straightway from the skies, Flooding with its white effulgence Heart and lips and eyes. Rose of that supernal whiteness, First to mortal view Then revealed, thou stood'st before me Goddess, maiden too. Flower of all Night's star-bright meadows, Lo, thou shonest there, Of thine own high will responding To thy poet's prayer. Now old days and ways forgotten, Fires of hearth and home, Face of waiting sire and sister, 'Mid the hills I roam. Poet blest of all earth's poets, Whose poor song to crown, From the furthest heights of heaven Came a goddess down. 5* A Ballad of Queen Etain A YOUNG HARPER SINGS Though you should walk a thousand years Along the singing roads that run Beneath the green seas, or should go Through all the valleys of the sun; Though you should climb the starry stairs Upon whose utmost purple height Girt round about with song and fire, Rose-red desire and hearts-delight, Sits Dana, queen of gods and men, Great mother of the Danaan race, Whose eyes eternal torches are Of awe, of rapture and of grace ; Whose lips are founts whereto shall come, Their souls athirst for love and fame ; Earth's pilgrim-poets, thence to take New flame and re-awakened flame: Or should you racing with the Moon, Her flying, foam-white feet outspeed, " 53 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN And o'er the hedges of the Night Take flight upon a magic steed, Not in the meadows of the stars, Nor by the streams that wind their way From where the twilight kisses night, To where the dawn is one with day. Nor, though by scented billows borne, Your feet should reach those far-flung Isles, Whence Fand from great Manannan fled To seek her earth-born lover's smiles; Nor there, nor there, nor anywhere, In wonder-fields of earth or sky, Shall shine upon your eyes a Queen Clothed in a loveliness so high, As she in singing whose bright grace Gods snatch from men the glad refrain, Until its fragrance fills the ways Of earth and heaven — "Etain!" "Etain!" He strikes his harp with languid hands, That younger minstrel chaunting there, For his eyes' desire is caught in the strands 54 A BALLAD OF QUEEN ETAIN Of the Queen's bright hair. And his soul's desire from his lips has flown, To bathe in the blue lake of her eyes, While his song, a rose-leaf passion-blown, Upon his wan lip dies. 55 The Spirits Mourn for iEngus O ^Engus ! lord forever dear, To thee we cry, to thee we call, Time strikes us with his leaden spear, The heavy hours upon us fall — Hear us, O master, hear! By what bright seas thy footsteps go, What lands are gladdened by thy grace, We know not, this we only know — We die for hunger of thy face. Hear us, O master, hear! The fires are dim upon thy fanes, Here, even here, in golden Brugh, No song, no sign, no word remains, To speak the splendor that it knew. Hear us, O master, hear! We pass, we fade, the shadows creep Upon us, drink our beauty up, 56 SPIRITS MOURN FOR iENGUS God pours us on the lips of Sleep, And flings away the empty cup. We die! we die! we die! 57 II A HOSTING OF HEROES A Hosting of Heroes Lord God to Thee, a song of praise For these, Thy paladins, we raise; Each name of whom a flag unfurled Athwart the ramparts of the world Remains a living word and sign Of all that made or makes divine The race wherefrom they drew their breath, The land they loved and served till death. From him who 'midst his foes alone, Self-bound unto the Pillar-stone,* To Doom's grey face and darkling skies Turned yet unconquered, sun-glad eyes, To him, that later chief,f whose name Gleams yet a torch of unquenched flame, A beacon flung against the dark, To light our feet to Freedom's ark. For all who kept their sword-bright trust, Their sword-bright faith undimmed of rust; * Cuchulain f Parnell 61 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN From whose dead lips unto our own The sacred word of Duty borne, Shall yet from Night uplift our land, And work the glory that they planned— For those we praise, for these we laud Thy everlasting name, Lord God. 62 The Dream of iEngus Og When the rose o' Morn through the Dawn was breaking, And white on the hearth was last night's flame, Thither to me 'twixt sleeping and waking, Singing out of the mists she came. And grey as the mists on the spectre meadows Were the eyes that on my eyes she laid, And her hair's red splendor through the shadows Like to the marsh-fire gleamed and played. And she sang of the wondrous far-off places That a man may only see in dreams, The death-still, odorous, starlit spaces Where Time is lost and no life gleams. 63 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN And there till the day had its crest up- lifted, She stood with her still face bent on me, Then forth with the Dawn departing drifted Light as a foam-fleck on the sea. And now my heart is the heart of a swallow That here no solace of rest may find, For evermore I follow and follow Her white feet glancing down the wind. And forevermore in my ears are ringing — (Oh! red lips yet shall I kiss you dumb ! ) Twain sole words of that May morn's singing, Calling to me "Hither!" and "Come!" From flower-bright fields to the wild lake- sedges Crying my steps when the Day has gone, 64 THE DREAM OF iENGUS OG Till dim and small down the Night's pale edges The stars have fluttered one by one. And light as the thought of a love for- gotten The hours skim past, while before me flies That face of the Sun and Mist begotten, Its singing lips and death-cold eyes. 65 Flight of Diarmuid and Grainne Laughing she came to him, swift-footed, sweet, Laid the command of her eyes on his eyes, Captured the soul of him ardent and fleet, Whispered him, u Diarmuid, my dearest, arise ! "Yonder the dawn-light cleaves sheer through the dark, Morn rises early to gladden our way; Fleeing, our spirits shall soar with the lark, Herald to hymn us to life's fuller day." "Ah, but my loyalty I" — "Ah, but my love, Is that a little thing, think you, O man? Higher it is than the high gods above — Mated we were ere Creation began!" 66 DIARMUID AND GRAINNE Then, "But the bride of my liege-lord thou art, Grainne, my princess, and I am his friend." "Nay, but I follow the law of my heart, That is thine only, and thine to the end." Fire to the flame of her wooing he rose, And one last glance at great Fionn held fast, Leashed in the chain of his spell-wrought repose, Out of the doors of the palace they passed. Stars lingered yet in the lap of the night, Waiting their pleasure and wooing them on, Yet for a moment they paused in their flight, Hand touching hand in the sweet- scented dawn. 67 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Lip pressed to lip in a virginal, new Rapture that sped like white fire down each vein, While in that Love's first communion they grew Wise as the gods are of bliss and of pain. Silent as gods, when they quaff the divine Essence of life, save for one murmuied word; "Bride of my soul who forever art mine !" "Thine past all parting, my love and my lord!" Oh, for the grace of that journey begun ! Night fled before them and red rose the Morn, Then with fair faces upraised to the Sun, Joyous they sang for the joy to them born. Fearless and sweet rose their paean of praise, Hymning the love that makes laughter of Death, 68 DIARMUID AND GRAINNE Nature, their mother, through all her green ways Echoed their singing with rapturous breath. 6 9 Diarmuid and Grainne at the Forest of Dooris Sweeter than any life beneath the sun, Or any dream of life the high gods deign To let upon men's sleeping eyelids shine, Was that for these at Dooris now begun. For swift and strong and beautiful, their lips Unspoiled, insatiate, bent to kiss the cup Of perfect joy the cloudless days held up — The long sweet days of Light without eclipse. For whether grey or gold the skies above, For them undimmed shone one imperial sun — And other light their glad eyes needed none — The flame immortal of their mortal love. 70 DIARMUID AND GRAINNE And Summer wrought for them a garden- close High-hedged and all a-bloom with blos- soms rare; And sweeter all her roses for them were For that amongst them gleamed one Death-red Rose. Yea, and for that a little way outside The scented hedgerows, clear-discerned, stood Fate, Saying, "Behold a little while I wait The day that shall destroy them and divide!" Thus fronting always, wheresoe'er they turned, The Doom to be escaped not, nor denied, The splendor of the love that might have died Of its own greatness ever brighter burned. And if upon their raptured harmonies Of speech and glance, a pause, at times, would come, 7i SINGING FIRES OF ERIN 'Twas but because great pity smote them dumb For all their days that yet had been ere these. So that fair Lord the shining of whose face Had lit their way from Tara through the Night, Love, the high Emperor of their delight, Filled all their days with gladness and with grace. So armored in their own bright fearless- ness Against what hap of sorrow or surprise The hand of god or mortal might devise, Laughing they drained their leeless wine of bliss. 72 Grainne Returns to Tara So bright-faced Diarmuid slept where no to-morrow Should rouse him with its bugle-call of Light In that far land beyond the range of sorrow Where mighty iEngus bore him through the night; While she for whom no morn of mortal waking Should bring again the radiance of his smile, Watched by him through the long days unforsaking, Deeming, perchance, that for a little while, Might yet come true that word of Angus' speaking, That, by his Danaan wizardry restored, 73 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Some shadow-semblance of himself dis- playing, Should live again her ever-worshipped lord: But as the long, bright days in still suc- cession Passed, bringing no light to the dead man's face, So passed from out her life in cowled procession, All that had made its laughter, love and grace. And in their stead came that — the last, best giving Of the strong gods — the god-like con- sciousness, That nevermore through all her years of living, Should any great pain, yea, or any bliss Reach to her soul, where on its high pedestal Of utmost rapture, utmost anguish, known, 74 GRAINNE RETURNS TO TARA It kept its state, inviolate and vestal, A white lamp burning by a tomb alone. But when no more the soft, unchequered splendor Of those long days at Brugh her soul might brook, Nor any further hope the gods would lend her, To Tara back her wistful way she took; The courtiers watching with the avid vision Of those who see a dead dream vivified, Beholding in her eye that bright decision, And on her lip that red, unconquered pride. Murmured of marvels all belief exceed- ing — Of women's veering faith — dead men forgot — Interpreting each by his own light reading Of Life, the change that Deathless Grief had wrought; 75 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN The wondrous change — that sun-bright Winter gleaming Of a great spirit unsubdued of Pain, That kept before men's eyes its royal seeming, When long had vanished love's brief, radiant reign. But once — 'twas in the singing April weather — Came lilted to her on a vagrant breeze A snatch of song that they had sung to- gether In old, glad days beneath the quicken trees; And then for all she was a High King's daughter, Of whom no weakness any man might tell, Down her pale cheeks the hot tears flowed like water Of brooks released from Winter's icy spell. 7 6 GRAINNE RETURNS TO TARA And "Diarmuid!" cried she twice and thrice, and falling Rose-white amongst the lilies at her feet, Her weeping maidens deemed that in that calling Her soul had sped her waiting lord's to greet : But no such sweet release to her was given, Whose fate it was behind a quenchless pride Through long, grey years to hide the spirit riven Past mortal hope that day when Diar- muid died. 77 Cuchulain "Never will I break my vow, nor wrong my land, nor sell my chief." Thou, most strong and beautiful, i Thou, most brave and dutiful, Thou, thy Ulster's shield and sword, Thou, her servant and her lord; Thou whose deeds athwart the years Flash, a burnished field of spears, Mighty Cuchulain! Thou, whose name in splendor lone Rears itself a pillar-stone, Radiant through the rains and night, On thy land's grey, storied height, Thou who scatheless held thy faith To thy utmost, labored breath, Knightly Cuchulain! Lo! it is to thee I raise Here, this testament of praise, 78 CUCHULAIN Chaunting with glad lips thy fame, Mouth of Truth and Soul of Flame; Light that shall not fade or fail, Sun-bright symbol of the Gael ! Peerless Cuchulain ! 79 Cuchulain's Wooing Great-limbed and swift and beautiful Past any dream, he came to her From Emain Macha through a land For gladness of the Spring astir. And on the flutes of Morning blown, Strong Joy that took for breath no pause, The song of Breeze and Stream and Bird, The herald of his coming was. Yea, and through all her April ways, To Erin's utmost sea-girt rim, Through waking seed, and blade and leaf, Green Nature laughed for joy of him. And where he held his sun-bright course, Straight-sped as arrow on its flight, Men thronged as to a pageant wrought By the high gods for their delight. 80 CUCHULAIN'S WOOING And seeing, with a fairer faith The Deathless Mighty Ones adored, Who thus unto their Ulster's need Had shaped at once a shield and sword. So through the singing land he passed, The peerless warden of her fame, So lord himself of Love and War, Unto his fair-faced love he came. 81 Emer's Girlhood Rose-bright where all were flower-fair, A rose around whose petals yet In order fresh and odorous The dreams of maidenhood were set. The green of April at her feet, The joy of Springtime round her spread, The hope of Summer in her eyes, The gold of sunrise on her head. So first upon the sight of him Who down from Ulster rode alone, To bring his heart's high love to her, In the sweet morning Emer shone. No girl, but Spring herself stept down Awhile upon that daisied plain, She sat, where bright the lilacs spread, Encompassed by her maiden train. 82 EMER'S GIRLHOOD With deft, swift skill of needlehood, Where Fancy led the flying hand, Inscribing on a silken scroll Some storied glory of her land. Till, raising to his shining height Her veiled glance, the silken scroll Slipped down, and in her sea-blue eyes Shone forth her new-awakened soul. And rising up, she placed in his Her gentle palm, and to him gave Whose heart was high for joy of her, Her maiden welcome sweet and grave. 83 Cuchulain to the Poets POETS, when you sing of me, And of the deeds that I have done, And of the battles that I won, For Ulster fighting mightily; Praising me with high hearts of fire — 1 pray you also in your song Tell men how once the World's Desire Was mine to love a whole day long. Yea, rose-fair face and mouth of flame — (O vision that no age shall dim!) At sunrise o'er the world's bright rim All golden-raimented she came; And leaning on the green hill there To me in fashion woman-wise, Through the dark twilight of her hair, I kissed her on the dew-cold eyes. Aye, kissed until within their blue A mortal woman's spirit shone, 84 CUCHULAIN TO THE POETS Laughed back its answer to my own, And mine into its sweet self drew — Folding me there with an old rune Of kings enwrapped in magic rest, Till life seemed all a drowsy noon, To be dreamed out upon her breast. Her white dove's breast — O men of songs ! This were a tale which rightly sung, Would make old men grow glad and young — Would make old foes forget their wrongs ; For since this joyous world begun, Was never sure such love as this By mortal man from woman won — So fair a dream, so brimmed with bliss. For with the setting sun she passed — Swift flame to flame — her rose-bright face Still with that new-won human grace Wooing my own unto the last; Bidding my heart to singing cheer For joy that on that hillside lone, Love visible, divine and dear, Had been through one long day its own. 85 An Earth Spirit A flame that dances down the wind, A swallow-wing against the sky, An autumn leaf to brush your cheek, And whirl away, no more am I. Friends fall, dreams fade, the gods are dead. My daylight suffers no eclipse — ■ Across eternal abysms I kiss to Fate my finger-tips. For one am I in brain and heart And breath with her who gave me breath, Who keeps her green way singingly Athwart the cairns where slumbereth Alike high Valor and fair Love; Where dust the mouth of Deirdre is, And on the lips of Cuchulain Forgotten all is Emer's kiss. 86 The Magic Isles of Manannan Fair past furthest reach of mortal dream- ing, Swung beyond the sunset's utmost span, Golden through the purple twilight's gleaming, Lie the magic Isles of Manannan. There, beneath green boughs where fruit and flower Bloom together through the cloudless year, There, with deathless rapture for their dower, Their bright spirits all undimmed of Fear. Pace in paired delight, the fond, immor- tal Shades whom Honor here love's goal denied, 87 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Queens who would not step o'er Duty's portal, Lords who held unstained their plumes' high pride. Thither sailing through the pearl-pale splendor Of a May moon with dream-sails un- furled, Shall I find thee, O my Queen most ten- der, Heart's Desire and White Rose of the World. Yea, and finding, wilt thou bend to listen Lily-wise — (O unforgotten grace!) Will thy grey eyes into azure glisten, And the rose-light gladden all thy face? As at last the Hidden Word is spoken, As at length the flame-writ script's un- rolled, As for aye the wizard spell is broken Laid upon our lips in Eireann old. 88 MAGIC ISLES OF MANANNAN So I dare to dream, the dull years cheat- ing, Holding yet our golden vision true, So O love o' mine this word of greeting O'er the Fairy Seas I waft to you. 8 9 The Last of the Fianna "They lay down on the side of the hill at Teamhair and put their lips to the earth, and died." (Gods and Fighting Men) To the dewy earth they turned their faces, Sweet, green mother of their old de- light; They for whom in Erin no more place was — They, the once strong bulwarks of her might ; Scarce a good man's stone-throw from where Tara Reared its shining splendor on the height. Golden-shod the hours in that fair palace Danced like maidens to a festal song, But for them who drained life's bitter chalice 90 THE LAST OF THE FIANNA There upon the hill, the day was long: Till sweet Death came down in the grey twilight, Death, whose kind kiss heals all hu- man wrong. Kissing now their lids of drowsing vision With a dream of Life as it had been, Glowing with the joy of swift decision, Radiant with the flash of sword-blades keen, Ringing with the songs of Nature's spring- time, Crowned with love of goddess and of queen. Calling to them through the trooping shadows, Beautiful, undimmed of age or fear, Those who with them through the golden meadows In their morn of manhood cloudless- clear, Long ago behind great Finn the peerless, Rode to chase of foeman or of deer. 91 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN So Night set her seal upon their dreaming Of brave days and deeds forever gone, So they passed, the men of god-like seem- ing, With their faces set towards the Dawn. They whose like in all her future story, Nevermore the earth should look upon. 92 Of One Who Died in Murias When for a doom and punishment God took the green tides of the sea, And launched them from His hand on thee, And all thy pride was from thee rent. Nor all thy roofs of beaten gold, Nor all thy walls of chrysolite Might save thee from the rushing Night Which down upon thy splendor rolled. O Murias! with thee to death Went one whose face was fairer far Than is in June the vesper star Seen from the moon an arrow's breadth. Went one who of all ladies dead Wast sure most fond and flower-fair, A spirit wrought of sun and air, And all on dreams and laughter fed. 93 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN O Dreams ! O Laughter ! vain to stay The rushing Death, the green Eclipse Which surged between our meeting lips, Which bore thee on its tides away. White foam! pale sea-drift! at the will Of the cold moon forever tossed — Thy beauty but an old tune lost — And yet one heart remembers still. Yea, though no harper shall uplift In song for evermore thy name, And I am but a wandering flame Upon the world's grey winds adrift. Undimmed through all the years I hold, Whence no god's finger may efface — O Queen! the shining of thy face Beneath its coronal of gold. 94 The Sleeping Knight "And the spirit of Eireann kissed the Sleeper's lips." But One came past, a spirit of white flame, Who stooped and kissed him on the lips and eyes, And whispered in his ear, "Arise! Arise ! God's heralds to the tourney call thy name." Then dream-swift down the morning winds she sped, Who had for evermore destroyed his dreams, And with a murmured song of waking streams, Him through dim ways and dewless meads she led. Till suddenly, where rose a purple height Of sunlit hills between them and the skies, 95 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN A smiting splendor shone upon his eyes Of bannered hosts arrayed in armored night. And when his glance through dazzlement might scan The helmed features of that shining throng, Beneath the flags of causes perished long, He saw the face of many a ruined man. Yea, side by side in order debonair, The dead, lost soldiers with the living men Who strive with proven steel of sword or pen For fairer Justice in a world unfair. "God's mail-clad knights!" she said, "Be- hold your place ! And here for slakement of your long road's drouth, Again I kiss you on the eyes and mouth, Who may bestow on you no further grace." 9 6 THE SLEEPING KNIGHT And so was gone, a mist-wreath in the sun, No more nor less, but he in that fair host, Who reckon well all things for Freedom lost, His day of life-long service had begun. 97 Dreaming of Cities Dead Dreaming of cities dead, Of bright Queens vanished, Of kings whose names were but as seed wind-blown E'en when white Patrick's voice shook Tara's throne, My way along the great world-street I tread, And keep the rites of Beauty lost, alone. Cairns level with the dust — Names dim with Time's dull rust — Afar they sleep on many a wind-swept hill, The beautiful, the strong of heart and will — On whose pale dreams no sunrise joy shall burst, No harper's song shall pierce with battle- thrill. 98 DREAMING OF CITIES DEAD Long from their purpled heights, Their reign of high delights, The Queens have wended down Death's mildewed stair, Leaving a scent of lilies on the air, To gladden Earth through all her days and nights, That once she cherished anything so fair. 99 The Singers to Their Lady Lo! our Lady, we crave thy grace, If, for a little space between Grey of the Dawning, Red of the Morn- ing, Yet of beauty and love we dream. Soon in splendor of Freedom's waking, Mountain and vale of thine shall gleam, Then with a glory of swords upflashing Shall we hail and proclaim thee Queen ! ioo An Irish Enchantment There's a ripple and shower of song- drops shaken, A brown wing whirrs through the white- thorn spray — O soul of mine from your dream awaken ! Sweet, green Erin is far away. Here is no highway of singing thrushes — Onward with thunderous roar and din, The great life-stream of the city rushes, Avid to draw me in. Yet over it all, the wild, faint laughter Of grasses astir beneath the moon, Cries, "Come!" "Come!" "Come!" and I follow after The whispering, elfin tune. And my feet are winged with a blind de- sire For brackened hills where the star- beams rest, IOI SINGING FIRES OF ERIN And dead as the ash of a last year's fire Is the spirit within my breast. Is it not time to cease your dreaming, Lost and wandering heart o' me say? O fairy eyes through the thickets gleam- ing, YouVe stolen my soul away ! 102 O Radiant Faith of Ireland O radiant Faith of Ireland ! Thou light of many lands; Thou flame that goest our feet before, thou torch within our hands. Thou golden span across the gulf of sun- dering ages cast, Thou glory shining yet undimmed from out our splendid past. On thee as on a bulwark strong of old our sires leant, Through thee has Ireland's sun-bright soul to all earth's peoples sent Her word of an Imperial Hope — of Truth, serene, divine, Of Heaven-born Joy all unobscured by chance or change or time. Thou fortress reared by Patrick's hand, that o'er the ravening flood Of hostile laws, of despot rage, still storm- unwreckt hast stood; 103 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN From whose bright portals down the years true heralds of the Dawn, From East to West, their Lord to preach, the Irish priests have gone. Yea, priest and poet, saint and sage, and whoso yet would trace The roadways trodden of their feet along the world's wide face, Shall find it by fair towns that lift brave spires into the air, Shall find it by the shrines they raised — their Death-unsilenced prayer. And one with us in name and fame, in life and death thou art, Life of our life, soul of our soul, heart of our inmost heart: Alike in gladness as in woe, in triumph as in loss, Our Ireland on her bosom wears the sym- bol of the Cross. Her children throng the waterways where pass the mighty ships, 104 O RADIANT FAITH OF IRELAND Still pioneers of God they come, a prayer upon their lips ; Still bearing to their lineage true, Faith's fertilizing rain, To blossom forth in stranger lands in many a shining fane. And blest and proud forever be the word that o'er the earth Joins "Irish" and "Catholic" in one in- stinctive breath ; That said, perchance not all in praise, be- comes our two-edged blade, Wherewith to win in Truth's defense, God's knightly accolade. 105 Legendary and Mythological Index Aengus Og {Angus Og). — Literally "Young Aengus," the Gaelic god of love and beauty and immortal youth, whose fairy towers rose at Brugh-na-Boinne. Of him it was said that his kisses as they fell from his lips became singing birds. One of the many beautiful legends asso- ciated with him is that of the maiden, who for the space of a twelvemonth, appeared to him at the same hour every night, never speaking, only singing to a little golden harp which she carried in her hands. At the end of that time she dis- appeared, and Aengus began a tireless search for her throughout Ireland. He finally discovered her, leading an enchanted existence as a swan on the waters of a certain lake. He called her by her name (Caer), she responded, and in the morning, he also having assumed the form of a swan, they flew off together to his palace at Brugh, their singing filling with delight the whole country through which they passed. Aine (Ai-ne). — Goddess of love and fire. The poem "Goddess and Poet,' , commemorates a strange, Tannhauser-like legend, which represents Aine in the Christian Ireland of the thirteenth 107 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN century, responding to the wooing of Thomas, the Wizard Earl of Desmond. Brugh. — The dwelling-place of Aengus in the Boyne Valley. (This Valley, so rich in legendary and historic lore, is within a two hours* journey from Dublin.) Conchubar (C6n-ov-ar) . — Known also as Connor MacNessa, High King of Ulster about the beginning of the Christian era, founder of the chivalric order of the Red Branch Knighthood, and opponent of Queen Maeve of Connacht in her long wars upon Ulster. Cormac Conloingias. — The warrior-son of Conchubar, said to have come to tragic death through his love for Sceanba, who was also be- loved of Craftaine the Harper. They met for the last time at Ath-luin on the Shannon, and there she planted a "little tree and called it Death. ,, Cuchulain ( Coo-hoo-lin). — The supreme type of Celtic chivalry, the champion of Ulster in the protracted wars waged by Maeve and Con- chubar. The pillar-stone at which he died is still pointed out near Dundalk, Co. Louth. Dectera. — Sister of Conchubar, mother of Cuchulain. The latter was the son of Sualtim, but popular story represented Dectera as having been beloved and espoused by Lugh the great sun- god of all the Celts. 108 MYTHOLOGICAL INDEX De Danaan ( Tudtha-de-Danaan ) . — Posses- sors of Ireland at the time of the Milesian land- ing, and conquered by the latter, this magic, mys- tic race exercised their wizard powers by making for themselves homes in forest, stream and moun- tain. They were the heroic forerunners of the diminutive modern Irish fairy. Diarmuid and Grainne (Dermid and Gran- vd). — King Cormac MacArt gave a banquet at Tara, to celebrate the betrothal of his beautiful daughter, Grainne to Fionn MacCumhail (Finn McCool). But Grainne, noting among Finn's followers, the noble and handsome Diarmuid O'Dyna, at once loved him. Administering to Finn and such others at the banquet as were likely to oppose her will, a sleeping-portion, she besought Diarmuid to go forth with her. This he at first refused, but finally yielded. Then, for a space they found refuge from the anger of Finn in the Forest of Dooris. Time, however, appar- ently healed Finn's wrath, and it was many years afterwards when Diarmuid died, killed by a wild- boar of magic origin. Then Aengus, who had fostered Diarmuid, bore the dead man's body back to Brugh, promising to restore it to a sem- blance of life. Several versions are given of Grainne's subsequent action, but the writer has here chosen the kindlier one. Deirdre. — Of Deirdre, a child of great beauty, it was prophesied at her birth, she would be the cause of great disasters. To save her from this destiny, King Conchubar had her reared in extreme solitude, with the intention of making 109 SINGING FIRES OF ERIN her his Queen. She, however, meeting in early girlhood, Naoise (Nay-sha), a distinguished war- rior of the Red Branch Knighthood, wed, and fled with him, and his two brothers, Ardan and Ainle to Scotland. Thence, at the end of seven years they returned to Ireland, at the invitation of Conchubar. The invitation was but a death- trap to the three brothers. Versions as to Deir- dre's ending vary, but all are highly tragic. In "Deirdre to her Women," the writer has chosen that form of the story, which tells that Deirdre, after the death of Naoise, lived as the bride of Conchubar for the space of a twelvemonth; and, at the end of that time, terminated her sorrows, by leaping from Conchubar's chariot, on a day when the King was driving it at its utmost speed. Many have found it difficult to reconcile this story of treachery and death with the otherwise very noble and lofty attributes of Conchubar's character. Emain Macha. — The palace of the Ulster Kings. Emer. — The heroic and beautiful wife of Cu- chulain. She died on beholding the slain body of her lord, and was buried in the one grave with him. Etain. — The half-fairy wife of Eochy, High- King of Ireland. She was the object of a pro- longed strife between the latter, and Midair, King of Fairyland, in which the mortal king was finally the victor. Irish legend is rich in descrip- tions of her beauty. IIO MYTHOLOGICAL INDEX Fianna. — The great body of trained fighting- men commanded by Finn McCool. Fionn. — Finn McCool, who organized the Fianna in the reign of King Cormac McArt, to protect Ireland, and who, to great gifts of valor and beauty, added that of poetry. Finovar. — "Findabair of the Fair Eyelids," the beautiful daughter of Queen Maeve of Con- nacht, to win whose hand in marriage, Ferdia, the boyhood friend of Cuchulain, fought with the latter, and was unwillingly slain by the Ulster champion. Held up as a sort of marriage trophy by her warrior-mother to the princes whom she sought to win to her standard, Findabair perished in the flower of her girlhood. The poem in the present volume was suggested by one of John P. Campbell's pictures, as were also the two poems, "Saba comes to Finn," and "The Coming of Finn." Lugh. — The supreme sun-god of the Celts. Maeve. — The great war-queen of Connacht, the untiring foe of Ulster, is described as a woman of commanding loveliness. While there is no legendary origin for a "Greek Lover of Maeve," the romance is within the possibilities. Manannan. — The Celtic god of Ocean, lord of the Isles of the Happy Dead, protector of Erin. Murias. — One of the four magic cities from which the De Danaans are said to have originally come. Ill SINGING FIRES OF ERIN Saba. — Irish legend tells no more wistful story than that of this woodland maiden, who came for a little while to be the mortal bride of Finn McCool, and was later, through Druidical en- chantment, transformed into the appearance of a fawn. From her union with Finn sprang Ossian, Ireland's first great poet. Ulaidh. — Ulster. 112 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proce; Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 PreservationTechnologie A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATK 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111 I I ■ ■ titf t