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I
THE CHILDREN OF LIR
Because of her jealousy, Aoife changed her husband's children into four white swans. And the enchantment was to last thrice three hundred years, and their sufferings were to be very great. But appalled at what she had done, and unable to break the enchantment, Aoife permitted them to keep their loved speech of the Gael. And their singing was so beautiful that it overcame every one, and whoso had sorrows and heard it, his sorrows were as naught.
The sedge on the wind-beaten shore
Gives back at the rush of the storm,
The foam from the sea, toss'd before,
Takes flight in tumultuous form.
Afar from the sea-bound ledges,
Scant shelter'd from anger of wind,
Comes a promise of faery pledges,
A respite from all that is drear,
The boon that Queen Aoife could find;
The song of the children of Lir.
Gives back at the rush of the storm,
The foam from the sea, toss'd before,
Takes flight in tumultuous form.
Afar from the sea-bound ledges,
Scant shelter'd from anger of wind,
Comes a promise of faery pledges,
A respite from all that is drear,
The boon that Queen Aoife could find;
The song of the children of Lir.
The rain and the hail like to fire,
Rage and leave ice where they burn;
Cloud and wind with their bitter desire
Rush by and rushing return.
Rage and leave ice where they burn;
Cloud and wind with their bitter desire
Rush by and rushing return.
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