|It happened that on a misty summer morning as Finn and Oisin with many companions were hunting on the shores of Loch Lena, they saw coming towards them a maiden, exceedingly beautiful, riding on a snow-white steed. She wore the garb of a queen; a crown of gold was on her head, and a dark-brown mantle of silk set with stars of red gold, fell around her and trailed on the ground. Silver shoes were on her horse's hoofs, and a crest of gold nodded on his head.|
she came near she said to Finn: "From
very far away I have come, and now at last I have found thee, Finn son
of Cumhal." Then Finn said: "What is thy land and race, maiden, and what
dost thou seek from me ?" "My name", she said, "is Niam of the Golden
Hair. I am the daughter of the King of the Land of Youth, and that which
has brought me here is the love of thy son Oisin."
Then she turned to Oisin, and she spoke to him in the voice of one who has never asked anything but it was granted to her. 'Wilt thou go with me, Oisin, to my father's land?" And Oisin said: "That will I, and to the world's end," for the fairy spell had so wrought upon his heart that he cared no more for any earthly thing but to have the love of Niam of the Head of Gold.
|Then the maiden spoke of the Land Over sea to which she had summoned her lover, and as she spoke, a dreamy stillness fell on all things, nor did a horse shake his bit, nor a hound bay, nor the least breath of wind stir in the forest trees till she had made an end. And what she said seemed sweeter and more wonderful as she spoke it than anything they could afterwards remember to have heard, but so far as they could remember it was this :|
is the land beyond all dreams,
Fairer than aught thine eyes have ever seen.
There all the year the fruit is on the tree,
And all the year the bloom is on the flower.
There with wild honey drip the forest trees;
The stores of wine and mead shall never fail.
Nor pain nor sickness knows the dweller there,
Death and decay come near him never more.
The feast shall cloy not, nor the chase shall tire,
Nor music cease for ever through the hall;
The gold and jewels of the Land of Youth
Outshine all splendors ever dreamed by man.
Thou shalt have horses of the fairy breed,
Thou shalt have hounds that can outrun the wind,
A hundred chiefs shall follow thee in war,
A hundred maidens sing thee to thy sleep.
A crown of sovereignty thy brow shall wear,
And by thy side a magic blade shall hang,
And thou shalt be lord of all the Land of Youth,
And lord of Niam of the Head of Gold."
Delightful is the land
beyond all dreams,
Fairer than aught thine
eyes have ever seen.
|As the magic song ended, the Fians beheld Oisin mount the fairy steed and hold the maiden in his arms, and ere they could stir or speak she turned her horse's head and shook the ringing bridle, and down the forest glade they fled, as a beam of light flies over the land when clouds drive across the sun and never did the Fianna behold Oisin son of Finn on earth again. Yet what befell him afterwards is known. As his birth was strange, so was his end, for he saw the wonders of the Land of youth with mortal eyes and lived to tell them with mortal lips.|
The Journey to FaeryWhen the white horse with its riders reached the sea, it ran lightly over the waves, and soon the green woods and headlands of Erin faded out of sight. And now the sun shone fiercely down, and the riders passed into a golden haze in which Oisin lost all knowledge of where he was or if sea or dry land were beneath his horse's hoofs. But strange sights sometimes appeared to them in the mist, for towers and palace gateways loomed up and disappeared, and once a hornless doe bounded by them, chased by a white hound with one red ear; and again they saw a young maid ride by on a brown steed, bearing a golden apple in her hand, and close behind her followed a young horseman on a white steed, a purple cloak floating at his back and a gold-hilted sword in his hand. Oisin would have asked the princess who and what these apparitions were, but Niam bade him ask nothing until they were come to the Land of Youth.
But strange sights sometimes appeared to them in the mist, for towers and palace gateways loomed up and disappeared.
met with various adventures in the Land of Youth,
including the rescue of an imprisoned princess from a Fomorian giant.
but at last, after what seemed to him a sojourn of three weeks in the
Land of Youth, he was satiated with delights of every kind, and longed
to visit his native land again and to see his old comrades. He promised
to return when he had done so, and Niam gave him the steed that had borne
him across the sea to Faery, but charged him that when he had reached
the Land of Erin again he must never alight from its back or the way of
return to the Land of Youth would be barred to him for ever.
Oisin set forth, and found himself at last on the western shores of Ireland. Here he made at once for the Hill of Allen, where the dun of Finn was wont to be, but marveled, as he traversed the woods, that he met no sign of the Fian hunters and at the small size of the folk whom he saw tilling the ground. At last coming from the forest path into the great Allen was wont to rise, broad and green with its ramparts enclosing many white-walled towering high in the midst, overgrown with rank weeds and wet bushes. Then a strange horror fell upon him and he thought some enchantment from the land of Faery held his eyes and mocked him with false visions. He threw his arms abroad and shouted the names of Finn and Oscar, but none replied, and he thought that perchance the hounds might hear him, so he cried upon Bran and Skolawn and strained his ears if they might catch the faintest rustle or whisper of the world from the sight of which his eyes were holden, but he heard only the sighing of the wind in the woods. Then he rode in terror from that place, setting his face towards the eastern sea, for he meant to traverse Ireland from side to side and end to end in the hope that he would be able to find some escape from his enchantment.
The Broken SpellBut when he came near to the eastern sea, he saw in a field upon the hillside a crowd of men striving to roll aside a great boulder from their tilled land, and an overseer directing them. Towards them he rode, meaning to ask them concerning Finn and the Fianna. As he came near they all stopped their work to gaze upon him, for to them he appeared like a messenger of the Fairy Folk or an angel from heaven. Taller and mightier he was than the men-folk they knew, with sword-blue eyes and brown, ruddy cheeks; in his mouth, as it were, a shower of pearls, and bright hair clustered beneath the rim of his helmet. And as Oisin looked upon their puny forms, he was filled with pity, and thought to himself, "Not such were even the churls of Erin when I left them for the Land of Youth " and he stooped from his saddle to help them.
|He set his hand to the boulder, and with a mighty heave he lifted it from where it lay and set it rolling down the hill. And the men raised a shout of wonder and applause; but their shouting changed in a moment into cries of terror and dismay, and they fled, jostling and overthrowing each other to escape from the place of fear, for a marvel horrible to see had taken place. For Oisin's saddle-girth burst as he heaved the stone and he fell headlong to the ground. In an instant the white steed had vanished from their eyes like a wreath of mist, and that which rose, feeble and staggering, from the ground was no youthful warrior, but a man stricken with extreme old age, white-bearded and withered, who stretched out groping hands and moaned with feeble and bitter cries. And his crimson cloak and yellow silken tunic were now but coarse homespun stuff tied with a hempen girdle, and the gold-hilted sword was a rough oaken staff such as a beggar carries who wanders the roads from farmer's house-to house.||
"I was Oisin, the son of Finn, and I pray ye tell me where he dwells!"
When the people saw that the doom that had been wrought was not for them they returned, and found the old man prone on the ground with his face hidden in his arms. So they lifted him up, and asked who he was and what had befallen him. Oisin gazed round on them with dim eyes, and at last said: "I was Oisin, the son of Finn, and I pray ye tell me where he dwells, for his dun on the hill of Allen is now a desolation, and I have neither seen him nor heard his hunting-horn from the western to the eastern sea." Then the men gazed strangely on each other and on Oisin, and the overseer asked: "Of what Finn dost thou speak, for there be many of that name in Erin?" Oisin said: "Surely of Finn mac Cumhal mac Trenmor, captain of the Fianna of Erin." Then the overseer said: "Thou art daft, old man, and thou hast made us daft to take thee for a youth as we did a while ago. But we at least have now our wits again, and we know that Finn son of Cumhal and all his generation have been dead these three hundred years."
the battle of Gowra fell Oscar, son of Oisin and Finn at the battle
of Brea, as the historians tell us; and the lays of Oisin, whose death
no man knows the manner of, are sung by our harpers at great men's feasts.
But now the Talkenn,' Patrick, has come into Ireland, and has preached
to us the One God and Christ His Son, by whose might these old days
and ways are done away with; and Finn and his Fianna, with their feasting
and hunting and songs of war and of love, have no such reverence among
us as the monks and virgins of Holy Patrick, and the psalms and prayers
that go up daily to cleanse us from sin and to save us from the fire
of judgment." But Oisin replied, only half hearing and still less comprehending
what was said to him : "If thy God have slain Finn and Oscar, I would
say that God is a strong man." Then they all cried out upon him, and
some picked up stones, but the overseer bade them let him be until the
Talkenn had spoken with him, and till he should order what was to be
|Irishman T. W. Rolleston was born in 1857. He served as the Dublin Correspondent for The London Daily Chronicle for several years. A deep passion for Celtic and Classical Literature, inspired Rolleston's completion of an impressive collection of publications. This excerpt is from The High Deeds of Finn" published in 1910.|
Belle Dame sans Merci by English
painter, Sir Frank Dicksee, (1853-1928) based upon the poem by
John Keats. Born to a family of artists, Dicksee enjoyed a broad
acceptance in his lifetime. His works included biblical and historical
subjects as well as allegorical themes.
Read for yourself the poem by Keats which inspired this romantic image of Otherworld love, at Earthlore's
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