Page:Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry - Meyer.djvu/92

 Like the moon, like the sun, like a fiery beacon was
 * the splendour of Niall:

Like a dragon-ship from the wave without a flaw was
 * Niall, Echu's son.

This is a yearnful music, the wail of every mouth in
 * Kerry—

It increases my grief in my house for the death of
 * Muredach's grandson.

Saxons will ravage here in the east, noble men of
 * Erin and Alba,

After the death of Niall, Echu's noble son—it is a
 * bitter cause of reproach.

Saxons with overwhelming cries of war, hosts of
 * Lombards from the continent,

From the hour in which the king fell Gael and Pict
 * are in a sore straight.

Upon Tara's rampart his fair hair shone against
 * his ruddy face:

Like unto the colour of his hair is red gold or the
 * yellow iris.

'Twas great delight, 'twas great peace to be in the
 * company of my dear foster-son,

When with Echu's son—it was no small thing—
 * we used to go to the gathering.