Secure retreat within the high stockade;
He cursed them all, and their loud laughter rang
More bitter to his heart than e'en the pang
Of his fierce wounds. Then while his streaming blood
Half-blinded him, he hastened to the wood,
And a small tree upon his shoulders bore,
And fixed it fast against the oaken door,
That none might issue forth.

Then once again
Towards the wood he turned, but all in vain
The women waited his return, till they
Grey weary.. for in pain and wrath he lay
In a close thicket, brooding o'er his shame,
And panting for revenge.

Then Finn's wife came
To set the women to the wheel and loom,
With angry chiding; and a heavy gloom
Fell on them all. "Who knoweth," thus she spake,
"What evil may the Fian men o'ertake
This day of evil omens. Yester-night
I say the pale ghost of my sire with white
And trembling lips ... At morn before my sight
A raven darted from the wood, and slew
A brooding dove ... What fear is mine!... for who
Would us defend if our fierce foemen came--
When Garry is against us ... Much I blame
Thy wanton deed." ... The women heard in shame,
Nor answer made.