Page:Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry - Meyer.djvu/42

 FROM THE VISION OF MAC CONGLINNE

A vision that appeared to me, An apparition wonderful
 * I tell to all:

There was a coracle all of lard Within a port of New-milk Lake
 * Upon the world's smooth sea.

We went into that man-of-war, 'Twas warrior-like to take the road
 * O'er ocean's heaving waves.

Our oar-strokes then we pulled Across the level of the main, Throwing the sea's harvest up
 * Like honey, the sea-soil.

The fort we reached was beautiful, With works of custards thick,
 * Beyond the lake.

Fresh butter was the bridge in front, The rubble dyke was fair white wheat,
 * Bacon the palisade.

Stately, pleasantly it sat, A compact house and strong.
 * Then I went in:

The door of it was hung beef, The threshold was dry bread,
 * Cheese-curds the walls.

Smooth pillars of old cheese And sappy bacon props
 * Alternate ranged;

Stately beams of mellow cream, White posts of real curds
 * Kept up the house.