And the battle-steeds springing,
A beautiful, terrible, death-dealing band.
Like pines, straight and tall,
Where Iubdan is king,
Are the men one and all.
The maidens are fair--
Bright gold is their hair.
From silver we quaff
The dark, heady ale
That never shall fail;
We love and we laugh.
Gold frontlets we wear;
And aye through the air
Sweet music doth ring--
O Fergus, men say
That in all Inisfail
There is not a maiden so proud or so wise
But would give her two eyes
Thy kisses to win--
But I tell thee, that there
Thou canst never compare
With the haughty, magnificent King of Faylinn!"

At this they all applauded, and Fergus said, "O youth and blameless
bard, let us be friends henceforth." And they all heaped before him,
as a poet's reward, gifts of rings and jewels and gold cups and
weapons, as high as a tall man standing. Then Eisirt said, "Truly a
generous and a worthy reward have ye given me, O men of Ulster; yet
take back these precious things I pray you, for every man in my
king's household hath an abundance of them." But the Ulster lords