After this the swans lived on for a great number of years, sometimes visiting the shores of Erin, and sometimes the headlands of Alban. But they always returned to the sea-stream of Moyle, for it was to be their home till the end of three hundred years. One day they came to the mouth of the Bann, on the north coast of Erin, and looking inland, they saw a stately troop of horsemen approaching directly from the south-west. They were mounted on white steeds, and clad in bright-coloured garments, and as they wound towards the shore their arms glittered in the sun. These were a party of the Dedannans who had been a long time searching for the children of Lir along the northern shores of Erin: and now that they had found them, they were joyful; and they and the swans greeted each other with tender expressions of friendship and love. The children of Lir inquired after the Dedannans, and particularly after their father Lir; and for Bove Derg, and for all the rest of their friends and acquaintances. "They are well," replied the Dedannans; "but all are mourning for you since the day you left Lake Darvra. And now we wish to know how you fare on this wild sea." "Miserable has been our life since that day," said Finola; "and no tongue can tell the suffering and sorrow we have endured on the Sea of Moyle." And she chanted these words-- Ah, happy is Lir's bright home to-day, With mead and music and poet's lay: But gloomy and cold his children's home, For ever tossed on the briny foam. Our wreathèd feathers are thin and light When the wind blows keen through the wintry night: Yet often we were robed, long, long ago, In purple mantles and furs of snow. On Moyle's bleak current our food and wine Are sandy sea-weed and bitter brine: Yet oft we feasted in days of old, And hazel-mead drank from cups of gold. Our beds are rocks in the dripping caves; Our lullaby song the roar of the waves: But soft rich couches once we pressed, And harpers lulled us each night to rest. Lonely we swim on the billowy main, Through frost and snow, through storm and rain: Alas for the days when round us moved The chiefs and princes and friends we loved! My little twin brothers beneath my wings Lie close when the north wind bitterly stings, And Aed close nestles before my breast; Thus side by side through the night we rest. Our father's fond kisses, Bove Derg's embrace, The light of Mannanan's godlike face, The love of Angus--all, all are o'er; And we live on the billows for evermore! After this they bade each other farewell, for it was not permitted to the children of Lir to remain away from the stream of Moyle. VIII. HOW THE CHILDREN OF LIR REGAINED THEIR HUMAN SHAPE AND DIED. Great was the misery of the Children of Lir on the sea of Moyle till their three hundred years were ended. Then Finola said to her brothers--