Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/136

130 And sat above a pool of twinkling fins

To court old memories of the Fenian men,

Of how Finn's laugh at Conan's tale of glee

Brought down the rowan's boughs on Knocnaree,

And how he made swift comets with his shield

At moonlight in the Fomar's rivered glen.

And Caoilte, the thin man, was weary now,

And nodding in short sleeps of half a dream:

There came a golden barge down middle stream,

And a tall maiden coloured like a bird

Pulled noiseless oars, but not a word she said.

And Caoilte, the thin man, raised up his head

And took her kiss upon his throbbing brow,

And where they went away what man has heard?