“In the years long ago, long ago now, long ago, We were loved by her who dooms us to this evil cruel woe: Who with magic wand and words Hath changed us into birds-- Snow-white swans to drift and drift for evermore Homeless, weary, tempest-baffled hence from shore to shore.” A silence followed this melancholy singing. Then at last Fionula spoke again. “Tell us, O Aeifa, how long this doom is to be upon us, so that we may know when death shall come to take away our suffering?” Then because in that day it was not honourable to refuse the truth when asked, Aeifa did as Fionula prayed of her. “Better would it be for thee and thy brothers to know nothing and to hope much. But since thou hast asked this thing I will tell it: “Three hundred years shall ye, Fionula, and Aed and Fiachra and Conn, who are now four white swans, abide here on this great lonely, desolate lake of Darvra. For three hundred years thereafter shall ye inhabit the wild sea of Moyle, which lies between the Stairway of the Giants, and the bleak shores of the great headland of Alba.[3] And for yet another three hundred years ye shall drift to and fro among the storm-swept seas off the rocky isles to the west of Erin. “Furthermore, ye shall be idle sport for the storms until Lairgnen, a great prince of the north, has union with Decca, in the south: until the Taillkenn,[4] the new prophet, shall come to Erin and preach a new faith that shall chase away the old gods: and until ye shall be filled with fear and wonder at a strange sound, that shall be the ringing of the first Christian bell. All this I tell ye because of the prophetic sight I have, and that has come to me through the druidic wand wherewith I have changed ye into four wild white swans. And this too, I say unto ye, Fionula and Aed and Fiachra and Conn, that neither by your own power nor by your prayers, nor by mine, nor by the power of Lir and Bove Derg, nor by that of all kings and princes and druids whatsoever; no, nor by any god, nor by any power in heaven or earth, can ye be freed from this spell I have put upon ye, until the times and events I have spoken of shall be fulfilled.” When Aeifa had ceased speaking, there was no sound to be heard, save the lap-lapping of the lake-water upon the shore. Of the company of those with her none spake a word, each dreading the evil that was sure to come. At last a faint sobbing came from amid the sedges, where the young brothers nestled by the side of Fionula, who had already begun to mother these dear ones whom she loved. When she heard these sobs, Aeifa’s heart smote her. Even if she would, she could not now undo the age-long spell she had set upon the children of Lir. But one thing was left to her that she might do with the fairy wand, which could be moved once again if stirred by the breath of her will.