of the branch that is by your side? There is no good to deny it or
to try and hide it; she is the sun in the heavens who wounded my heart.

There was no part in Ireland I did not travel, from the rivers to the
tops of the mountains; to the edge of Lough Greine whose mouth is
hidden, and I saw no beauty but was behind hers. Her hair was shining
and her brows were shining too; her face was like herself, her mouth
pleasant and sweet; She is the pride and I give her the branch; she
is the shining flower of Ballylee.

It is Mary Hynes, the calm and easy woman, has beauty in her mind and
in her face. If a hundred clerks were gathered together, they could
not write down a half of her ways.




_His Lament for O'Daly_


It was Thomas O'Daly that roused up young people and scattered them,
and since death played on him, may God give him grace. The country
is all sorrowful, always talking, since their man of sport died that
would win the goal in all parts with his music. The swans on the water
are nine times blacker than a blackberry since the man died from us
that had pleasantness on the top of his fingers. His two grey eyes
were like the dew of the morning that lies on the grass. And since
he was laid in the grave, the cold is getting the upper hand.

If you travel the five provinces, you would not find his equal for