And, trembling on the tossing ships,
The Vikings heard, with voiceless lips
And dim, despairing eyes ... Alone
Stood Goll, and like a silent stone
Bulking upon a ben-side bare,
He bent above the hero fair--
Remembering the mighty Red,
And wondering that Conn lay dead.


[Footnote 1: May Day.]

[Footnote 2: Traditional Holy Hill]






THE SONG OF GOLL.

O Son of The Red,
Undone and laid dead--
The blood of a hero
My cold blade hath shed.

Who fought me to-day?
Who sought me to slay?--
The son of yon High King
I slew in the fray.