English

Harriers ran the roads
To the shadow-herded peaks
Of Connemara, by the hillocks lit
With handfuls of sharp water and they cried
At every farm:
" Drive in the herds
Of Maeve and count them into rows."
They called
At every holding:
" Peel the wattle now
On the cattle of the king."
Men came to the stile
And the busy women, hanging out the clothes
On the currant bushes, cried
" Who are they
That are running?"
But those heels
Had gone.
Landowners at the door

How Maeve of Connaught disputed with her husband at an unreasonable hour regarding their respective possessions. How their cattle were driven in and counted. How a plenipotentiary was sent to Ulster to negotiate for a bull and a deal of ale consumed .

ACT III

C LARA sings .

Gladness
And sadness
And pensiveness blending;
Yearning
And burning
In torment ne'er ending;
Sad unto death,
Proudly soaring above;
Happy alone
Is the soul that doth love!

ACT I

C LARA winds a skein, and sings with Brackenburg .

The drum gives the signal!
Loud rings the shrill fife!
My love leads his troops on
Full arm'd for the strife,
While his hand grasps his lance
As they proudly advance.

My bosom pants wildly!
My blood hotly flows!
Oh had I a doublet,
A helmet, and hose!

Through the gate with bold footstep

ACT II

L IEBETRAUT plays and sings .

H IS bow and dart bearing,
And torch brightly flaring,
Dan Cupid on flies;
With victory laden,
To vanquish each maiden
He roguishly tries.
Up! up!
On! on!

His arms rattle loudly,
His wings rustle proudly,

ACT IV. SCENE 5.

SONG OF THE FATES

Y E children of mortals
The deities dread!
The mastery hold they
In hands all-eternal,
And use them, unquestion'd,
What manner they like.

Let him fear them doubly,
Whom they have uplifted!
On cliffs and on clouds, lo,
Round tables all-golden,
The seats are made ready.

When rises contention,
The guest are hurl'd downwards,
With shame and dishonour
To deep depths of midnight,

Spies came with tidings to the seven doorways
Of Emain Macha.
" Too far at daybreak
Beyond the narrows of water, we saw
Cuchullin."
" Too far, too far, at night-rise
Beneath that anvil-horn, the sidelong moon,
We saw Cuchullin, crazed by unreal combat
Dust-going along the sea-roads, jetty locks
Mocking at flight. But in the glens we heard
Armies of Erc — and Maeve stirred in the West."

The hall was silent as Conal Cearnach struck
The bench-row.

In that ill-lighted house among the mountains,
Before dream-fighters came to tilt his feet
And the skilled women lap his head, Cuchullin
Brooded on the third day, for he had heard
Storm break about the anvils that have forged
Themselves, nor could he find the sweets of metal
That iron hides in the last sound. In vain
Did men turn air to thought and women patch
The fire that he might know the comforting
Of ear and eye. In vain did Gennan turn
His wonder to untruth:
" Lift the great horn,

. . . " This now being so resolved among them, together come women and maids, wise men and poets, reciters and all various professors that were in the fort, and into the house where Cuchullin was they entered. Cathva also, with Concobar's harper and foster-brother of the sweet strains, making melody, and music. Ferceirtne, too, being on the couch beside Cuchullin, guarding and beguiling him ."

Six among the courtiers favour'd
Fly before the Caesar's fury,
Who would as a god be worshipp'd,
Though in truth no god appearing,
For a fly prevents him ever
From enjoying food at table.
Though with fans his servants scare it,
They the fly can never banish.
It torments him, stings, and troubles,
And the festal board perplexes,
Then returning like the herald
Of the olden crafty Fly-God.
" What! " — the striplings say together —
" Shall a fly a god embarrass?

Shall a god drink, eat at table,