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‘Peace, child I know the death-watch ticked night long at thy own bed-head,
And a cock crew thrice out of hours.’ ‘Oh, nurse! and with lips blood-red?’
‘Darling, in Connor's famed court, I've heard of as fair a young knight.’
‘Oh, nurse ! I've loved him in dreams. Wilt bring him but once to my sight?’
Woe to thee, fair child of sorrow. Love laughs at high walls in derision.

Woe to Naois and Ainlé and Ardan, who rescued thee safe from thy prison.
Into the mouth of the lion they flew from the lion pursuing,
For Scotia's king saw the bride's face—loved the beauty that was her undoing,
And many were slain for her sake, till the brave sons of Ulster have spoken:
‘Lo, King! it were sad, for one maid, that our armies were scattered and broken.’
And Connor, aloud, to those chiefs, bade the three sons of Uisneach return—
Forgiven, come home to their land. But his heart was still hot with the burn
Of the shame of the maiden's desertion, and her scorn of a king and his glory;