"May-day! delightful time! How beautiful the color! The blackbirds sing their full lay. Would that Laigay were here! The cuckoos call in constant strains. How welcome is ever the noble brightness of the season. On the margin of the leafy pools the summer swallows skim the stream. Swift horses seek the pools. The heath spreads out its long hair. The white, gentle cotton-grass grows. The sea is lulled to rest. Flowers cover the earth." Find's large and imaginative personality is well drawn in one of the poems of his golden-tongued son Ossin, though much of the beauty of Ossin's form is lost in the change of tongue: "Six thousand gallant men of war We sought the rath o'er Badamar; To the king's palace home we bent Our way. His bidden guests we went. 'Twas Clocar Fair, And Find was there, The Fians from the hills around Had gathered to the race-course ground. From valley deep and wooded glen Fair Munster sent its mighty men; And Fiaca, Owen's son, the king, Was there the contest witnessing. 'Twas gallant sport! With what delight Leaped thousand pulses at the sight. How all hearts bound As to the ground First are brought forth the Fian steeds, Then those from Luimnea's sunny meads. Three heats on Mac Mareda's green They run; and foremost still is seen Dill Mac Decreca's coal-black steed. At Crag-Lochgur he takes the lead. "His is the day--and, lo! the king The coal-black steed soliciting From Dill the Druid!--'Take for it A hundred beeves; for it is fit The black horse should be mine to pay Find for his deeds of many a day.' "Then spoke the Druid, answering His grandson, Fiaca the king: 'Take my blessing; take the steed, For the hero's fitting meed: Give it for thy honor's sake.' And to Find the King thus spake "'Hero, take the swift black steed, Of thy valor fitting meed; And my car, in battle-raid Gazed on by the foe with fear; And a seemly steed for thy charioteer. Chieftain, be this good sword thine, Purchased with a hundred kine, In thine hand be it our aid. Take this spear, whose point the breath Of venomed words has armed with death, And the silver-orbèd shield, Sunbeam of the battlefield! And take with thee My grayhounds three, Slender and tall, Bright-spotted all, Take them with thee, chieftain bold, With their chainlets light Of the silver white, And their neck-rings of the tawny gold. Slight not thou our offering, Son of Cumal, mighty king!" "Uprose Find our chieftain bold, Stood before the Fian ranks, To the king spoke gracious thanks, Took the gifts the monarch gave; Then each to each these champions brave Glorious sight to see and tell, Spoke their soldier-like farewell!