aven for it.

'He was the beautiful branch. In every quarter that he ever knew he
would scatter his fill and not gather. He would spend the estate of
the Dalys, their beer and their wine. And that he may be sitting in
the chair of grace, in the middle of Paradise.

'A sorrowful story on death, it 's he is the ugly chief that did
treachery, that didn't give him credit, O strong God, for a little
time.

'There are young women, and not without reason, sorry and
heart-broken and withered, since he was left at the church. Their
hair thrown down and hanging, turned grey on their head.

'No flower in any garden, and the leaves of the trees have leave to
cry, and they falling on the ground. There is no green flower on
the tops of the tufts, since there did a boarded coffin go on Daly.

'There is sorrow on the men of mirth, a clouding over the day, and
no trout swim in the river. Orpheus on the harp, he lifted up
everyone out of their habits; and he that stole what Argus was
watching the time he took away Io; Apollo, as we read, gave them
teaching, and Daly was better than all these musicians.

'A hundred wouldn't be able to put together his actions and his
deeds and his many good works. And Raftery says this much for Daly,
because he liked him.'

Though his praises are usually all for the poor, for the people, he has
left one beautiful lament for a landowner:--

'There's no dew or grass on Cluan Leathan. The cuckoo is not to be
seen on the furze; the leaves are withering and the trees
complaining of the cold. There is no sun or moon in the air or in
the sky, or no light in the stars coming down, with the stretching
of O'Kelly in the grave.

'My grief to tell it! he to be laid low; the man that did not bring
grief or trouble on any heart, that would give help to those that
were down.

'No light on the day like there was; the fruits not growing; no
children on the breast; there's no return in the grain; the plants
don't blossom as they used since O'Kelly with the fair hair went
away; he that used to forgive us a great share of the rent.

'Since the children of Usnach and Deirdre went to the grave and
Cuchulain, who, as the stories tell us, would gain victory in every
step he would take; since he died, such a story never came of
sorrow