The King's Lay

The Hill of all Supremacy was void
Of rule supreme. For seven years, no King
Had entered there, nor thence gone forth in state,
With chief and bard and royal equipage,
To make procession through the Land of Erinn,
And all was ill. There crept a faint gray mist
Across the fair face of the Island then,
And darkness came on many hearts, and slow
Forebodings grew, and petty enmities
Were omens of a mighty wrath to come.
Peace was no more, although the Isle was still
And all her shoreward seas and curved bays
Unvexed by sharp prows from the snowy North.
Fate hung in air, as hangs a towering hawk
O'er silenced woods. Whereat the Land was moved

As by one thought, to cast away the cause,
Not loving thus to see fair Tara void,
Discrowned, and desolate, her glory gone;
Not loving that the Kingship of the Land
Should be without a King to judge supreme,
And make procession through the Land of Erinn,
Redressing wrongs and making good the Right,
Ruling the kings and settling all dispute,
Welding more closely the white bond of love
That linked in one the Great Five Chieftainries.
So all the scattered chiefs arose and sped
Their gathering chariots to the Hill of Kings,
Whose bright-browed fortress glances o'er the green
And tremulous sea of branches, like a moon
New-risen.

The clangour ceased; they entered, still,
The Court of Niafer, by mystic rite
To find what man should rule the royal fort.
Lo, in their midst, the Chiefs of all the Druids
Came; in their midst a stripling stood, new robed
In vesture white that fell in myriad folds.
Then him Four Druids gave to eat the heart
Divided, of the spotless, snow-white bull;
And when he ate, they made deep slumber drown
His form inert, and, glimm'ring round, pronounced
The magic charm that wrought the Dream of Truth.
Silent they stood awhile, and all repressed
The anxious throbbing of their hurried hearts.
Listless in sleep he lay till, suddenly,
Lifting his right hand slowly toward the North,
He murmured words that died within his throat:
His arm returning fell across his heart,

And yet a little time and, suddenly,
Half-rising up, with eager-bending brow,
Stretching his hand unto the North, he spake
With accent now assured, and full: "Behold!"
And then, at once, upstarting to his feet,
He made low rev'rence to the Unseen Man
And cried aloud: "All hail, my lord the King!
All hail, O noble hero, crimson-flecked,
Sitting beside the Mournful Chieftain there
In fair Emania: thou, in all great deeds,
His worthy pupil, peer, and truest friend!"
This when they heard, the Chiefs sent forth a Chief
Who, journeying through the long glades of the woods,
And fording mighty rivers in his way,
Came swift to fair Emania in the North.

Then, sending round his glances he beheld
Eastward, the palace of the Crimson Branch,
And on his left he saw the Speckled Mansion
Solemn and still, and in the sun, before
The great White Palace of the Royal Branch
And hosts of knights were swarming round its door
Passing and re-passing, for all Ulad
Had gathered here to greet their King, and watch
The mournful sickness in the Speckled House.
The herald Chieftain smote upon a door
In the great Palace of the Royal Branch,
And he was led before the King, who naught
Would hear, till feasts were spread, and humming chords
From lines of lofty harps had wiled away
The irksome burthen of long journeying: —
For such was aye the custom of the Realm.
Three days had passed; he stood before the King,

And showed to him the weighty charge he bore.
King Concobar of Ulad answering him,
Replied: "There is with us a noble, free,
And high-descended hero, crimson-flecked,
Sitting beside a Mournful Chieftain here
In fair E mania, and in all great deeds
His worthy pupil, peer, and truest friend."

Then forth they fared: the King, the Envoy-Chiet
And all the Council from the Royal Branch
Unto the Speckled Mansion in the West;
And entering soft they saw Cuchulainn lie
Upon his couch of sad decline, and there
Stood over him to solace and to speed
The heavy hours of mournfulness away
Our noble Lugai of the Crimson Hand.

When he had heard the Envoy, Lugai spake
With rising anger as at insult done
And all the nobleness of ardent youth:
"Even for Tara's self, I will not leave
This couch of sickness where Cuchulainn lies.
Doleful his room of darkness would become
Were I afar, but not so sad and lone
As the darked chamber of my heart, while he
Lay all forsaken by his pupil here."

But then Cuchulainn, rising slow and weak,
Above his couch of sad decline, stood tall
And grand once more; and on his Lugai's head
He laid his hand, so strong, — and now so worn:
"Thou now hast given thee a charge, my son,
Beside which private bonds must seem as naught; —
Go forth! — and from thy glory there will come
New life into my heart, and I will live

In sorrow less, that I may see thee rule
According to the best weal of thy Land,
And see thy Land grow happy under thee,
And see thy praises in the greater deeds
That, following thee, all Erinn shall perform!"

He then, recalling from the Past the things
He ever taught, and to show forth the ways
That most become a King, did speak this Lay:

"In the Time —
In the red Time of Battles, —
When the foeman advances,

With a myriad of glaives
And a myriad of lances,

When slaves
Shrink back from the terrible chime
Which the War-harp out-rattles

Whose chords
Are the jubilant Warriors' swords —
Be thou

The Torch of the Brave:
Not timid, oppressed, or unready
In woe or affright,

But Man in his might,
Clear-glancing, and fearless, and steady,

Ready the foeman to smite,
Ready the friend and the foeman to save,

Calm and intrepid of brow, —
Even as now.

"In peace or in war
Dwell not afar
From the voice of thy people, nor hide
Thy heart in the purple of pride;

Bend down thine ear,
Let the doors to thy mansion be wide,

Let the pathway be clear

So that all thou shalt hear,
And the injured shall come to thy side.

Never be passionate,

Never precipitate;

Never intoxicate
With that which of evils is worst,

Which deadens the health

Of Mind, and makes Earth
Seem a wilderness drear and accurst,

If it yield but a dearth
To him, who thus lusteth, of Wealth.

"In all of thy regal processions,
In the mansions of welcoming kings,

Show thou the example
How little the lofty mind clings
To feasting and mead; — and a sample

Of temperance also be thou
Whenever a stranger

Come 'mid thy possessions,
Shield him from danger,

And guard him from wrong;
Let courtesy sit in thy heart and thy brow,

Let him be gladdened, but thou
Hast duties, so wield them —
See that the feasts be not many nor long:
In such there is danger,

In such there is wrong,
From ills of each kind thou must shield him.

"Let not thy path lie among
Men who are plotters of guile,
Men who are doers of wrong.
If any
A tract of the lands of thine Isle
Have got them by fraud or by wile,
By lie, or by might,
Though many
A year may have rolled on its way,
And the hair of their youth have grown gray, —

Let them not rest!
Let not the Wrong be as Right!
Call witnesses quickly together,
Ask the historians whether
Their scrolls can declare
The descendants of him, — the true heir,
Him whom their guile dispossess'd;

Seek the clear truth
Recalling the past into life.
Lo, then
Having found,
'Mid their fraudulent actions, the Right —
Arise, without slowness or ruth,
Arise, in thy sternness and might,
And gather thy men,
And drive them, with vigorous strife
With sword and with javelin, afar,

And for ever and ever debar
Their return to the ground.

"Be sparing of words,
Be calm and not loud in thy speech;

Loving to think —
Knowing 'tis easier to cross o'er the fords
When the flood is not flush with the brink,

And the waters are clear
And the currents not loud, are but low —

Knowing 'tis easier to reach
The Truth which abideth beyond
The River of Words,
In the still bark of Thought, when slow
Is the rush of that River.
Thus be thou ever,
And wear
In thy dutiful bosom, a fond

Respect for the Good, who are old;

Even forbear
To mock or deride those who never
Have earned the regard of the Bold,

Of the Good, and the True,
But whom Age bringeth grieving, and rue,
Deep woe and despair.

"My son!
Be thou kindly disposed towards all; —

Thinking evil of none,
Till their deeds show their sorrowful fall;

Do evil to none,
From those who offend thee demand

Not things over bitter to bear.
Be gentle, be merciful, and
Open of hand.
If thou hast wronged any, by chance,

Be not shamed, but declare
Thine error, and yield him his share.
Set forth all the righteous laws
That the Isle may advance,
Knowing the truth of its cause.

Hearken
And follow the words of the Wise,
Remember the rules of thy Fathers,
Let the knowledge of Age be a star to thine eyes
When shadows surround thee, and darken
The goal which thou seekest.
Be firmest, but meekest;

So striving that ever
The great bond which gathers
Thy girdle of free friends may never
Slacken, nor sunder, nor sever.

"Bear with them, bear for them, endure
Much that their circle increase
In purity, honour, and peace.
With thy foes
Be strong, word-keeping, and sure.
Be courteous, nor taunt with their woes

Those who have suffered defeat.
Let the taunts of thine enemies pass —
Let thy captives abuse and defame —

Their tattle
May writhe like snakes to thy feet,

But weaker than withering grass
In the flame.
Thou shalt be nobler, and scorn
Their tauntings or threats to return
In peace or in battle.

"Spend not thy time
In riotous waste,
Nor lean to the contrary crime,
Hoard not thy wealth, and
Alienate never thy land.
Give answering calm, without haste;
And bear,
With thy wrath all unmoved,
To hearken thy conduct reproved

And thy Counsellors blame thee,
And thy deeds, if they were
Not such as became thee.

"Sacrifice naught
Of thy truth to the wishes of man;

Nor even in thought
Let men's wickedness fan
The fire of thine anger to hate

Lest thou do even them
An injustice, through loathing

Their former misdeed,
And discover it, late.

Take care and good heed
For Truth is a king's diadem,

And Justice his clothing!

Release not thy capture
But with bond of security given,
Lest, when his fetters are riven,

Wrath and not rapture

Should run through his veins,
And, knowing thy force and thy land,
He should come with a ravaging band
To be venged for captivity's stains.

"Let not thy heart
Sink into slumber and sloth,
Lest thou shouldst shrink from thy duty,

Lest thou be loth

To act the true part,
And thy glory depart
And the Will, and the Power, and the Beauty

Which exist in the might

To repress and redress

The Evil and Wrong —
To bring kindness and mercy to light
And uphold the fair Banner of Right

With the hand of the Strong.

"Ask not a favour

Again, if refused thee at first;
For the mind becomes mean,

If the heart be a craver;
And a subtle Enslaver,

A Torturer vilest and worst.
Is the Yearning obscene,

The immodest Desire,
For that which belongs to another,

Whom the soul grows to hate, and not love as a brother;
And will fall from its higher
Emotions and cease to aspire,
And smoulder 'mid passions accurst.

"Do not compete,
Being zealous,
With thy subjects in action or feat,
Lest thou be jealous-;
And wish not their glory, but that they should meet
With sorrow, o'erthrow, and defeat.
Nor forget that a King
Whom his people elect
Should be stainless of heart and blameless of mind,
Of courage and honour unfleckt, —
Loving his clans with a loving refined;
Should joy in their gladness, grieve in their grief,
Toil to give light to their blind,
Toil till true happiness sing
In the homes of the Rich and the Poor, —
A Palace of Purity,
A Wall of Security,
He alone, be thou sure,
Is truly their King, and their Prince, and their Chief.