o poets.

"Without the cry of the hounds or the horns, without guarding coasts,
without courting generous women; for all that I have suffered by the
want of food, I forgive the King of Heaven in my will."

Oisin said: "My story is sorrowful. The sound of your voice is not
pleasant to me. I will cry my fill, but not for God, but because Finn
and the Fianna are not living."

CHAPTER IV. OISIN'S LAMENTS

And Oisin used to be making laments, and sometimes he would be making
praises of the old times and of Finn; and these are some of them that
are remembered yet:--

I saw the household of Finn; it was not the household of a soft
race; I had a vision of that man yesterday.

I saw the household of the High King, he with the brown,
sweet-voiced son; I never saw a better man.

I saw the household of Finn; no one saw it as I saw it; I saw Finn
with the sword, Mac an Luin. Och! it was sorrowful to see it.

I cannot tell out every harm that is on my head; free us from our
trouble for ever; I have seen the household of Finn.

It is a week from yesterday I last saw Finn; I never saw a braver man. A
king of heavy blows; my law, my adviser, my sense and my wisdom, prince
and poet, braver than kings, King of the Fianna, brave in all countries;
golden salmon of the sea, clean hawk of the air, rightly taught,
avoiding lies; strong in his doings, a right judge, ready in courage, a
high messenger in bravery and in music.

His skin lime-white, his hair golden; ready to work, gentle to women.
His great green vessels full of rough sharp wine, it is rich the king
was, the head of his people.

Seven sides Finn's house had, and seven score shields on every side.
Fifty fighting men he had about him having woollen cloaks; ten bright
drinking-cups in his hall; ten blue vessels, ten golden horns.

It is a good household Finn had, without grudging, without lust, without
vain boasting, without chattering, without any slur on any one of the
Fianna.

Finn never refused any man; he never put away any one that came to his
house. If the brown leaves falling in the woods were gold, if the white
waves were silver, Finn would have given away the whole of it.

Blackbird of Doire an Chairn, your voice is sweet; I never heard on any
height of the world music was sweeter than your voice, and you at the
foot of your nest.

The music is sweetest in the world, it is a pity not to be listening to
it fo