Then once again, the louder for the mourning pause, we hear the
din of battle.

"As roll a thousand waves to the rocks, so Swaran's host came on.
As meets a rock a thousand waves, so Erin met Swaran of spears.
Death raises all his voices around, and mixes with the sounds of
shields. Each hero is a pillar of darkness; the sword a beam of
fire in his hand. The field echoes from wing to wing, as a
hundred hammers that rise by turn, on the red son of the
furnace."

But now the day is waning. To the noise and horror of battle the
mystery of darkness is added. Friend and foe are wrapped in the
dimness of twilight.

But the fight was not ended, for neither Cathullin nor Swaran had
gained the victory, and ere gray morning broke the battle was
renewed.

And in this second day's fight Swaran was the victor, but while
the battle still raged white-sailed ships appeared upon the sea.
It was Fingal who came, and Swaran had to fight a second foe.

"Now from the gray mists of the ocean, the white-sailed ships of
Fingal appeared. High is the grove of their masts, as they nod
by turns on the rolling wave."

Swaran saw them from the hill on which he fought, and turning
from the pursuit of the men of Erin, he marched to meet Fingal.