And O! that at last, All sorrows past, This night I lay 'Neath the oak-beams grey! O, to wake from sleep, To see dawn creep Through the fruitful grove Of the house that I love! O! my feet to be treading the threshold once more, O'er which once went the leading of swords to the war! O! my feet in the garden's edge under the sun, Where the seeding grass hardens for haysel begun! Lo, lo! the wind blows To the heart of the Rose, And the ship lies tied To the haven side! But O for the keel The sails to feel! And the alien ness Growing less and less; As down the wind driveth and thrusts through the sea The sail-burg that striveth to turn and go free, But the lads at the tiller they hold her in hand, And the wind our well-willer drives fierce to the land. We shall wend it yet, The highway wet; For what is this That our bosoms kiss? What lieth sweet Before our feet? What token hath come To lead us home? 'Tis the Rose of the garden walled round from the croft Where the grey roof its warden steep riseth aloft, 'Tis the Rose 'neath the oaken-beamed hall, where they bide, The pledges unbroken, the hand of the bride. Hallblithe heard the song, and half thought it promised him somewhat; but then he had been so misled and mocked at, that he scarce knew how to rejoice at it. Now the Erne spake: "Wilt thou not take the chair and these dainty song- birds that stand about it? Much wealth might come into thine hall if thou wert to carry them over sea to rich men who have no kindred, nor affinity wherein to wed, but who love women as well as other men." Said Hallblithe: "I have wealth enow were I once home again. As to these maidens, I know by the fashion of them that they are no women of the Rose, as by their song they should be. Yet will I take any of these maidens that have will to go with me and be made sisters of my sisters, and wed with the warriors of the Rose; or if they are of a kindred, and long to sit each in the house of her folk, then will we send them home over the sea with warriors to guard them from all trouble. For this gift I thank thee. As to thy throne, I bid thee keep it till a keel cometh thy way from our land, bringing fair gifts for thee and thine. For we are not so unwealthy." Those that sat nearby heard his words and praised them; but the Erne said: "All this is free to thee, and thou mayst do what thou wilt with the gifts given to thee. Yet shalt thou have the throne; and I have thought of a way to make thee take it. Or what sayst thou, Puny Fox?" Said the Puny Fox: "Yea if thou wilt, thou mayst, but I thought it not of thee that thou wouldst. Now is all well."