The shield of Concobar was struck so that it moaned,
and the three Waves of Erin, the Wave of Clidna, the
Wave of Rudraige, and the Wave of Tuag Inbir echoed
that moan, and all the shields of the Ulaid resounded,
every one of them that was on their shoulders and in
their chariots. As the Ulaid were retreating,
fresh troops came up for them under Conall Cernac.
A tree of shelter and a wreath of laurel and a hand
above them was Conall to them. So their flight
was stayed. Then Conall drew the sharp long sword
out of its sheath of war and played the music of his
sword on the armies. The ring of Conall’s
sword was heard through the battalions on both sides.
And when they heard the music of Conall’s sword
their hearts quaked and their eyes fluttered and their
faces whitened, and each of them withdrew back into
his place of battle and of combat. But so fierce
was the onset of the southern armies that the fight
of the Ulaid against them was as a breast against a
great flood, or an arrow against the rock, or the
striking of a head against cliffs. Yet through
the great might of Cuculain the Ulaid prevailed, and
Cairpre the King of Tara was slain. After the
battle, Concobar spoke thus: “There were
three sons of Ros Ruad the king—Find in
Alend, Ailill in Cruac, Cairpre in Tara; together
they performed their deeds of valor, the three brothers
in every strife; together they used to give their
battle. They were three pillars of gold about
their hills, abiding in strength; great is their loss
since the third son has fallen.”
VII.
FindandOssin.
A.D. 200—290.
Seventeen centuries ago, two hundred summers after
the death of Cuculain the hero, came the great and
wonderful time of Find the son of Cumal, Ossin the
son of Find, and Find’s grandson Oscur.
It was a period of growth and efflorescence; the spirit
and imaginative powers of the people burst forth with
the freshness of the prime. The life of the land
was more united, coming to a national consciousness.
The five kingdoms were now clearly defined, with Meath,
in the central plain, predominant over the others,
and in a certain sense ruling all Ireland from the
Hill of Tara. The code of honor was fixed; justice
had taken well-defined forms; social life had ripened
to genial urbanity. The warriors were gathered
together into something like a regular army, a power
rivaling the kings. Of this army, Find, son of
Cumal, was the most renowned leader—a warrior
and a poet, who embodied in himself the very genius
of the time, its fresh naturalness, its ripeness, its
imagination. No better symbol of the spirit of
his age could be found than Find’s own “Ode
to Spring”:
“May-day! delightful time! How beautiful
the color! The blackbirds sing their full lay.
Would that Laigay were here! The cuckoos call
in constant strains. How welcome is ever the
noble brightness of the season. On the margin
of the leafy pools the summer swallows skim the stream.
Swift horses seek the pools. The heath spreads
out its long hair. The white, gentle cotton-grass
grows. The sea is lulled to rest. Flowers
cover the earth.”
