dismay; his speech became faltering from the giddiness of imbecility; his very soul fluttered with hallucination, and with many and various phantoms, for that was the root and true basis of fear itself. He might be compared on this occasion to a salmon in a weir, or to a bird after being caught in the strait prison of a crib." The following is the way in which this is rendered in Congal, Sweeny's offense having consisted in drowning the hermit Ere in the Boyne:-- To Sweeny as the hosts drew near, ere yet the fight should join, Seemed still, as if between them rolled the foam-strewed, tawny Boyne. And as the swiftly nearing hosts consumed the narrowing space, And arrow flights and javelin casts, and sword strokes came in place, Through all the rout of high-raised hands, and wrathful, glaring eyes, Erc's look of wrath, and lifted hand before him seemed to rise, Through all the hard-rebounding din from breasts of Gaels and Gauls, That jarred against the vault of heaven, when clashed the brazen walls, Through all the clangorous battle-calls, and death shouts hoarse and high, Erc's shriller curse he seemed to hear and Erc's despairing cry. Much did the hapless warrior strive to shake from breast and brain The illusion and the shameful wish fast-rising; but in vain; The wish to fly seized all his limbs; the stronger dread of shame, Contending with the wish to fly, made spoil of all his frame. His knees beneath him wavered as if shaken by the stress Of a rapid running river; his heart, in fear's excess, Sprang to and fro within him, as a wild bird newly caged, Or a stream-ascending salmon in a strong weir's trap en gaged. Some of the single combats of the heroes, following the details of the narrative, are described with Homeric vigor, and the address of the King of Lochlan to the invading army, disheartened by apparitions, has the fire and spirit, as well as the form, of the Scandinavian runic verse: -- This is my sentence: Fairy nor Fire-Drake Keep back the Kemper At home, in the burg, Leaves he the maiden Boon for the bridal; Abroad, on the holme, Leaves he the harvest, Ripe for the reaper; The bowl, on the board, In the hall of the banquets, Leaves he untasted, When lances uplift The foe in the field. Noting the Norsemen Out on the water-throng, Hark! how the Eagle Vaunts to the Vulture. Spread thy wing, Scald-Neck, Says she, and screams she; Seest thou the Sea-Kings Borne on the gannet-bath,