Page:Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry - Meyer.djvu/32

 The noble-faced, grey-horsed warrior-band has
 * not betrayed me.

Alas! for the wonderful yew-forest, that they
 * should have gone into the abode of clay!

Had they been alive, they would have revenged
 * their lords;

Had mighty death not intervened, this warrior-
 * band had not been unavenged by me.

To their very end they were brave; they ever strove
 * for victory over their foes;

They would still sing a stave—a deep-toned shout,
 * —they sprang from the race of a noble lord.

That was a joyous, lithe-limbed band to the very
 * hour when they were slain:

The green-leaved forest has received them—it was
 * an all-fierce slaughter.

Well-armed Domnall, he of the red draught, he
 * was the Lugh of the well-accoutred hosts:

By him in the ford—it was doom of death—Congal
 * the Slender fell.

The three Eoghans, the three Flanns, they were
 * renowned outlaws;

Four men fell by each of them, it was not a
 * coward's portion.

Swiftly Cu-Domna reached us, making for his
 * namesake:

On the hill of the encounter the body of Flann the
 * Little will be found.