And he being laid upon green boughs

Was carried to the goodly house

Where the Hound of Ulad sat before

The brazen pillars of his door;

His face bowed low to weep the end

Of the harper’s daughter and her friend;

For although years had passed away

He always wept them on that day,

For on that day they had been betrayed;

And now that Honey-Mouth is laid

Under a cairn of sleepy stone

Before his eyes, he has tears for none,

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Although he is carrying stone, but two

For whom the cairn’s but heaped anew.

We hold because our memory is

So full of that thing and of this

That out of sight is out of mind.

But the grey rush under the wind

And the grey bird with crooked bill

Have such long memories that they still

Remember Deirdre and her man,

And when we walk with Kate or Nan

About the windy water side

Our heart can hear the voices chide.

How could we be so soon content

Who know the way that Naoise went?

And they have news of Deirdre’s eyes

Who being lovely was so wise,

Ah wise, my heart knows well how wise.

Now had that old gaunt crafty one,

Gathering his cloak about him, run

Where Aillinn rode with waiting maids

Who amid leafy lights and shades

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Dreamed of the hands that would unlace

Their bodices in some dim place

When they had come to the marriage bed;

And harpers pondering with bowed head

A music that had thought enough

Of the ebb of all things to make love

Grow gentle without sorrowings;

And leather-coated men with slings

Who peered about on every side;

And amid leafy light he cri