together on Carricknarone, the water froze into solid ice around them, and
their feet and wings were so frozen to the rock that when they moved they
left the skin of their feet, the quills of their wings, and the feathers
of their breasts clinging there. When the ice melted, and they swam out
into the sea, their bodies smarted with pain until the feathers grew once
more.

One day they saw a glittering troop of horsemen approaching along the
shore and knew that they were their own kindred, though from far
generations back, the Dedannen or Fairy Host. They greeted each other with
joy, for the Fairy Host had been sent to seek for the swans; and on
returning to their chiefs they narrated what had passed, and the chiefs
said, "We cannot help them, but we are glad they are living; and we know
that at last the enchantment will be broken and that they will be freed
from their sorrows." So passed their lives until Finola sang, one day,
"The Second Woe has passed--the second period of three hundred years,"
when they flew out on the broad ocean, as was decreed, and went to the
island of Inis Glora. There they spent the next three hundred years, amid
yet wilder storms and yet colder winds. No more the peaceful shepherds and
living neighbors were around them; but often the sailor and fisherman, in
his little coracle, saw the white gleam of their wings or heard the sweet
notes of their song and knew that the children of Lir were near.

But the time came when the nine hundred years of banishment were ended,
and they might fly back to their father's old home, Finnaha. Flying for
days above the sea, they alighted at the palace once so well known, but
everything was changed by time--even the walls of their father's palace
were crumbled and rain-washed. So sad was the sight that they remained one
day only, and flew back to Inis Glora, thinking that if they must be
forever solitary, they would live where they had lived last, not where