The Sea-Maiden's Vengeance

A great gallant king of yore
Ruled shore and sea of Erinn;
Noble then all sections shone
'Neath Rigdon's son of daring.

O'er the mane of slow gray seas,
With the breeze, lay his hoar way;
To behold his foreign friend
He would wend north to Norway.

Sped his splendid vessels three,
When the sea calmed its motion;
Till they, sailing, sudden stop
On the ridgy top of ocean.

They refused to wend away-
Fixed they lay, no where faring!
Then into the dark dread deeps
Ruad leaps, greatly daring.

When he dived for their release,
Through the sea's surging waters;
There he found the forms divine
Of its nine beauteous daughters.

These with clear soft accents said,
It was they stay'd his sailing:
That to leave nine maidens sweet
Were a feat few prevail in.

He with these nine nymphs remained,
Where there reigned shade nor sadness;
'Neath the waters, where no wave
Ever gave gloom to gladness.

One of these his bride became,
Still his fame forced him forward;
But he vow'd to greet her lips
When his ships came from nor' ward.

Once on board, he bade them sail
Past the pale billows breaking;
And, with one bound, make their course
To the Norse of quick speaking.

O'er the salt sea then they rode,
And abode, sweet the story,
Till the seventh glad year ends
With their friends, great in glory.

Ruad then ran out, once more,
On the hoar salt sea faring;
Speeding forth his ships to reach
The bright far beach of Erinn.

Warped and wrong the royal will, —
Solemn still is promise spoken:
He should have gone to the maid
As he said, nor pledge have broken.

When the Prince of Tuired's name
Unto Muired's r borders came,
Around the shore — foul his fame!
A sound arose of sad acclaim.

'Twas the sweet-voiced women's song
Borne along in music's motion,
Following Ruad's fleeing sail
O'er wail of wave- worn ocean.

Sailing, in bronze-boat, they came —
No plank-frame, made by mortal —
Those nine maidens, fair and fierce,
Till they pierce Ollbin's portal.

Dire and dread the deed then done
There by one, 'mid the water,
Ruad's son — her own — she slew,
Vengeance knew, sweet in slaughter!

Then, upraising her high hand,
Forth she cast him on the strand, —
Shrank the shore and shudd'ring foam
From King Ruad's welcome home!