Book I

The Hosting here of Congal Claen. 'Twas loud-lark-carolling May
When Congal, as the lark elate, and radiant as the day.
Rode forth from steep Rath-Keltar gate: nor marvel that the King
Should share the solace of the skies, and gladness of the spring;
For from her high sun-harbouring bower the fortress gate above
The loveliest lady of the North looked down on him with love.
"Adieu, sweet heart; a short adieu; in seven days hence," he cried,
"Expect me at your portals back to claim my promised bride.
My heart at last has full content: my love's acceptance heals
All wounds of Fortune: what although Malodhar Macha steals.
By Domnal's false arbitrament, my tributes and my land.
Nor he nor sovereign Domnal's self can steal Lafinda's hand.
Then forward, youths, for Dunangay; this royal banquet sped
That binds our truce, remains no more but straightway back, and wed."
On went the royal cavalcade, a goodly sight to see.
As westward, o'er the Land of Light, they swept the flowery lea;
Each shining hoof of every steed upcasting high behind
The gay green turf in thymy tufts that scented all the wind,
While, crossing at the coursers' heads with intersecting bounds,
As swift as skimming swallows played the joyous barking hounds.
First of the fleet resplendent band, the hero Congal rode;
Dark shone the mighty-chested steed his shapely thigh bestrode;
Dark, too, at times, his own brow showed that all his lover's air
But mantled with a passing light the gloom of inward care.
Beside him, on a bay-bright steed, in yellow garb arrayed,
Rode Sweeny, King of Dalaray, the brother of the maid;
Attendant on his other hand, with eye that never ceased
Obsequious watch, came Garrad Gann, the envoy of the feast;
A troop of gallant youths behind: 'twas glorious to behold
The coursers' motions and the flow of graceful forms and gold.
So rode they, till, the flowery plain and bushy upland pass'd,
They came at noon where, o'er the woods, Ben-Borcha's barriers vast
Rose in mid-sky: here, where the road divided, at the bourne
That meared the country of the Lord of gloomy-mountain'd Mourne,
Kellach the Halt, the heroes met, in middle of the way.
The Master of the Schools of Mourne, the Arch-Bard Ardan; they
Alighting made him reverence meet; and Ardan from his car
Descending, kissed the King and said,
"Dear youths, ye welcome are
To Kellach's country Congal Claen, thine uncle's herald, I
In virtue of the Red-Branch bond, beseech thy courtesy
This day to rest and feast with him."
"From knight to knight," replied
King Congal, " 'tis a just request, and ill to be denied."
"Worse to be granted," Garrad said: " to Domnal reconciled.
Behoves thee that thou rather shun one not the Church's child;
And for his bond of brotherhood, a like request was made
Once, with small good to guest or host, when fraudful Barach stayed
With fatal feasts the son of Roy, and from his plighted charge
Detained him in Dunseverick hall, while Conor, left at large
To deal as lust or hate might prompt with those who on the faith
Of weak MacRoy's safe-conduct came, did Usnach's sons to death."

Said Congal: "If the son of Roy to this constraining tie
Yielded, though charged with mighty cares, great blame it were if I,
Who, unlike Fergus, journey forth with neither charge nor care,
Should shun my knightly kinsman's cheer with loyal mind to share."
And, climbing by the Poet's side, they took the left-hand road,
And through the gap of mountain sought the aged Chief's abode.
Far on the steep gap's further side a rugged tract they found,
With barren breasts of murky hills and crags encompassed round:
A hollow sound of blustering winds was from the margin sent,
A river down the middle space with mighty tumult went;
And still, as further on they fared, the torrent swifter flowed,
And mightier and murkier still the circling mountains showed;
A dreadful desert as it seemed: till Congal was aware
Of divers goodly-visaged men and youths resorting there.
Some by the flood-side lonely walked; and other some were seen
Who rapt apart in silent thought paced each his several green;
And stretched in dell and dark ravine, were some that lay supine,
And some in posture prone that lay, and conn'd the written line
Then to the King's enquiring gaze, where, mounted by his side,
He sat and eyed the silent throng, the grey Arch-Bard replied:
"See in despite the Clerics' hate, where Kellach's care awards
Rough though it be, a sanctuary to Erin's banished Bards.
A life-time now is well-nigh spent since first our wandering feet.
Compelled by that unjust decree enacted at Drum-keat,
Left home and presidential seat by plenteous board and fire
To sate the rage of impious Aed, ungrateful Domnal's sire.
Twelve hundred men, with one consent, from Erin's utmost ends,
We sought the hills where ruled the Bard's hereditary friends.
Thy sheltering, song-preserving hills, Ultonia! cess nor dues
Craved we; but sat and touched our harps beside the Strand-End Yews.

By this they reached the fort, and found the Chieftain Kellach there:
Before the outer gate he sat, and took the fresher air:
A very aged senior he; his hearing well-nigh gone,
Nor walked he longer on his feet, but sat a tolg upon:
A brazen-footed bench it was, whereon his serving train
Could bear him gently in and out.
"My love to Congal Claen,"
He said. " Disabled of my limbs thou find'st me, nephew, still;
But not yet crippled aught in heart or in the loyal will
I bear my brother Scallan's son; and much my heart is grieved
At hearing of the shameful wrongs thou hast of late received
At hands of this ungrateful King."
"Dear kinsman, grieve no more,"
Congal returned; " these wrongs are all forgotten, since we swore
The oaths of peace; for peace is made, and will be ratified
By taking of the princess fair, Lafinda, for my bride;
And, ere the nuptial knot be tied, on duty's urgent wing
Even now to Dunangay I ride to banquet with the King."
Said Kellach; " Small the good will spring from any banquet spread
At Dunangay, where coward Kings, from spacious Tara fled.
At threat of imprecating Clerks, crouch in their narrow den.
But these are not the days of Kings, nor days of mighty men."
Said Garrad Gann; "A servant here of Domnal: and I say
No narrow house, oh aged Sire, is that of Dunangay.
But when Saint Ruan, because the King, Brown Dermid, had profaned
His sanctuary, and his ward, thence ravished, still detained
At Tara contumaciously, denounced by book and bell
His curse against the royal seat,—which righteous judgment well
Did Dermid merit; for he pressed his fugitive's pursuit
With sacrilegious fury to the very altar foot
Of Lorrah; and, when Ruan himself stood in the narrow door
That led to where his ward was hid beneath the chancel floor.
And Dermid feared to pluck him thence, with pick and iron crow
Did break the floor before his feet, and from the crypt below
Dug out Aed Guara,—afterwards, no King at Tara dare
Longer reside; but each within his patrimonial share
Ordained the royal seat elsewhere—as south Hy-Niall, who chose
Loch-Leyne-Fort; or as north Hy-Niall, Fort-Aileach and like those
Did Domnal choose, when Erin's voice gave him the sovereign sway.
By salmon-full abounding Boyne, the house of Dun-angay.
There, following royal Tara's plan, with dyke and mound he cast
Seven mighty ramparts round about, to make the mansion fast;
And, after the same pattern, did build within the fort
For him and for his household train, a timbered middle-court;
Also for each Provincial King a fair assembly hall,
A prison and a Poet's lodge, and, fairest work of all,
A single-pillared chamber, like as Cormac, learned son
Of Art, at desert Tara in former times had done.
In which capacious mansion, thou and all thy Bards, old man.
Could lodge, and no man's room be less: so answers Garrad Gann."
"Herald, I hear thy words but ill," said Kellach; " but 'twere well
For Erin, if Dermid Dun, that day he broke the Cleric's cell.
As justly by the law he might, his fugitive to win.
Had, where he took Aed Guara out, put Ruan of Lorrah in.
So should our laws have reverence meet; nor lawless Clerks exalt
Their crooked staves above the wand of Justice, through the fault
Of such as Dermid. But, oh youths, behold the open gates
Where mountain fare on homely boards your courtesy awaits."
They entered: in the hall within abundant boards were spread,
Bard, Brehon, Smith, in order set, each at his table's head;
But no Priest sat to bless the meat: now, when the feast was done,
Said Kellach, from his middle place,
"Oh, learned harmonious one.
Who sittest o'er the Board of Bards of Erin, be our cheer
Graced with such lay as Rury's sons will not disdain to hear."
Then at a sign from Ardan given, a Poet pale and gray
Rose at the table of the Smith, and sang an antique lay.
'Twas Ardan sang: " To God who made the elements, I raise
First praises humbly as is meet, and Him I lastly praise;
Who sea and land hath meted out beneath the ample sky
For man's inhabitation, and set each family
To dwell within his proper bounds; who for the race renowned
Of Rury from old time prepared the fair Ultonian ground,
Green-valley'd, clear-streamed, fishy-bay'd, with mountain-mirroring lakes
Belted, with deer-abounding woods and fox-frequented brakes
Made apt for all brave exercise; that, till the end of time,
Each true Rudrician fair-hair'd son might from his hills sublime
Look forth and say, ' Lo, on the left, from where tumultuous Moyle
Heaves at Benmore's foot-fettering rocks with ceaseless surging toil.
And, half escaping from the clasp of that stark chain of stone,
The soaring Foreland, poised aloft, as eagle newly flown,
Hangs awful on the morning's brow, or rouses armed Canty re,
Red kindling 'neath the star of eve the Dalriad's warning fire;
South to the salt, sheep-fattening marsh and long-resounding bay
Where young Cuchullin camped his last on dread Muir-thevne's day;
And southward still to where the weird De Danaan kings lie hid,
High over Boyne, in cavern'd cairn and mountain pyramid;
And on the right hand from the rocks where Balor's bellowing caves
Up through the funnelled sea-cliffs shoot forth the exploding waves
South to where lone Gweebarra laves the sifted sands that strow
Dark Boylagh's banks; and southward still to where abrupt Eas-Roe
In many a tawny heap and whirl, by glancing salmon track't.
Casts down to ocean's oozy gulfs the great sea-cataract,
The land is ours '.—from earth to sea, from hell to heaven above.
It and its increase, and the crown and dignity thereof!'
Therefore to God, who gave the land into our hand, I sing
First praises, as the law commands; next to my lawful King,
Image of God, with voice and string I chaunt the loyal strain,
Though well nigh landless here to-day I see thee, Congal Claen;
Spoiled of Orgallia's green domain, of wide Tir-Owen's woods,
Of high Tir-Conal's herdful hills and fishy-teeming floods;
Of all the warm vales, rich in goods of glebe-manuring men
That bask against the morning sun along the Royal Glen.
These are no longer ours: the brood of Baedan's sons in these
Shoot proudly forth their lawless barques, and sweep unhostaged seas
Through all the swift-keel-clasping gulfs of ocean that enfold
Deep-bay'd Moy Inneray and the shores of Dathi's land of gold.
In law-defying conscious strength aloft in Dunamain
Rude Ultan Long-hand owns no lord on Orior's pleasant plain;
While o'er Ardsallagh's sacred height, and Creeve Roe's flowery meads,
Malodhar Macha reigns alone in Emain of the steeds.
But come; resound the noble deeds and swell the chant of praise
In memory of the men who did the deeds of other days;
The old bard-honoring, fearless days, exulting Ulster saw,
When to great Rury's fair-haired race tall Scallan gave the law;
When, from Troy-Rury to Ardstraw was neither fort nor field.
But yielded tribute to the king that bore the ell-broad shield.
Hark! what a shout Ben Evenagh pealed! how flash from sea to shore
The chariot sides, the shielded prows, bright blade and dripping oar;
How smoke their causeways to our tramp: beneath our oarsmen's toil
How round the Dalaradian prows, foam down the waves of Foyle!
Come forth, ye proud ones of Tir-Hugh, your eastern masters wait
To take their tribute-rights anew at broad-stoned Aileach's gate;
A hundred steeds, a hundred foals, each foal beside his dam,
A hundred pieces of fine gold, each broad as Scallan's palm.
And thick as thumb-nail of a man of churlish birth who now
The seventh successive seed time holds a fallow-furrowing plough:
Three hundred mantles; thirty slaves, all females, young and fair,
Each carrying her silver cup, each cup a poet's share
Who sings an ode inaugural. — Alas! I fondly rave:
Dead, tribute-levying Scallan lies; and dead in Scallan's grave
Glory and might and prosperous days. The very heavens that pour'd
Abundance on our fields and streams, while that victorious lord
Of righteous judgments ruled the land; the stars that, as they ranged
The bounteous heavens, shed health and wealth, above our heads are changed.
Nor marvel that the sickening skies are altered o'er our heads.
Nor that from heaven's distempered heights malign contagion spreads:
For all the life of every growth that springs beneath the sun
Back to the air returns when once its turn of life is done:
To it all sighs ascend; to it, on chariot-wheels of fire.
All imprecations from the lips of injured men aspire;
And when that lofty lodge of life and growth-store of the world
Is choked with groans from burthened hearts and maledictions hurled
In clamorous flight of accents winged with deadlier strength of song
From livid lips of desperate men who bear enormous wrong,
Heaven cannot hold it; but the curse outbursting from on high
In blight and plague, on plant and man, blasts all beneath the sky.
Burst, blackening clouds that hang aloof o'er perjured Domnal's halls!
Dash down, with all your flaming bolts, the fraud-cemented walls.
Till through your thunder-riven palls heaven's light anew be pour'd
In Law and Justice, Wealth and Song, on Congal's throne restored!"
Look how the culprit stands confused before the judge, while one,
Who, passing through the woods unseen, has seen the foul deed done,
Relates the manner of the fact; tells how with treacherous blow
Struck from behind the murdered man sank on the pathway; so
With flushing cheek, contracted brow, and restless, angry eye.
Sat Congal till the lay was closed: then with a mighty sigh
He breathed his heart; and standing, spoke; and, speaking, he unbent
The golden torque that clasped his neck, and by a butler sent
The splendid guerdon to the Bard.
"For what thy lay doth sound
In praise of Rury's glorious race and Uladh's realm renowned.
Take, Bard, this gift; but for so much of this untimely song
As sounds in strife betwixt myself and sovereign Domnal, long
And far from me, his foster-son, be that disastrous day
Would break the peace we late have sworn: and therefore for thy lay
I thank thee and I thank thee not."
Then round the tables ran
Much murmuring through the Poet-throng: and thus spoke Garrad Gann:
"The lay is easy that a Bard chaunts at his patron's board,
With none in presence to repay lewd word with saucier word.
See how a boy who spends his time playing alone at ball,
Loitering, belike, from school, beside some lofty smooth-faced wall.
Strikes softly that the ball may fall convenient to his blow.
And keeps his private game on foot with easy effort so.
But, say, two pairs of players arrive, and join an earnest game;
Lo, all the easy-taken balls, that late high-curving came,
Now struck by prompt rebutting hands fly past, shot in and out.
Direct and rapid, hard to hit, missed once at every bout;
The players at stretch of every limb, like flickering bats that ply
Their dumb quest on a summer's eve, to balk each other, fly
Hither and thither; all their chests heave; and on every brow
The sweat-drops glisten. So, me seems, oh King, this minstrel now,
Much like a Cleric in his desk, having none to strive withal,
His game being wholly with himself, keeps up the easy ball
Of safe disloyalty: but let this song of his be heard
By Domnal's Bards, in Domnal's hall, and take a true man's word
Our angry Master here should give his day of harvest-work.
Ere from the field of fair debate he'd bear his golden torque."
"Enough," said Kellach. " Now to rest: and with the earliest ray
Of dawn, my kinsman-king is free to journey on his way."