Eamonn an Chnuic, or "Ned of the Hill"

"Who is that without
With voice like a sword,
That batters my bolted door?"
"I am Eamonn an Chnuic,
Cold, weary, and wet
From long walking mountains and glens."
"O dear and bright love,
What would I do for you
But cover you with a skirt of my dress.
For shots full thick
Are raining on you,
And together we may be slaughtered!"

"Long am I out
Under snow, under frost,
Without comradeship with any;
My team unyoked,
My fallow unsown,
And they lost to me entirely;
Friend I have none
(I am heavy for that)
That would harbour me late or early;
And so I must go
East over the sea,
Since 'tis there I have no kindred!"