Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/123

 THE SORROW OF FINDEBAR

do you sorrow, child? There is loud cheer

In the wide halls, and poets red with wine

Tell of your eyebrows and your tresses long,

And pause to let your royal mother hear

The brown bull low amid her silken kine.

And you who are the harpstring and the song

Weep like a memory born of some old pain."

And Findebar made answer, "I have slain

More than Cuculain's sword, for I have been

The promised meed of every warrior brave

In Tain Bo Cualigne wars, and I am sad

As is the red banshee that goes to keen 117