The Scottish Celtic review

;:134 The MuileurtackWith winds hard blowing,If there be as much blood in your bodies,It will swim on j'our backs."Then fought they the great day, and very great day—the day ofthe battle of the Hill of Howth,Where many a head was lowered,And neck was rendered bare.Not a single man escapedBut half a hundred men.That went like the current of a stream seaward,With the battle-shout driving them.[Then when the old woman of great furyGave a kick to the door.She bi'oke the nine fasteningsBefore her full speed was checkedAnd she entered the dwelling of FinAnd caught Fin's Cup in her crooked claw.She leapt upon the red rushing water of the oars,With Fin's Cup in her right hand.Fin leapt quick, quick,After the feet of the old woman,And caught the Cup,Since to him belonged its Virtue and Power.Thinman,-^ son of Roin, caughtHis big sword and his two spears;And the active, youthful Oscar caughtThe embroidered skirt that was round her body.They took the apple from the wretch;And if they did, it was not without a struggleAnd if her head was not put on another body.Her soul never obtained mercy.High was her place, and high her growth,High were her sails for age,^ (?)An iron crowbar under her,And two teeth westward from her open mouth ;Such a darksome old womanWas not seen since the days of Cu-chullain."'] ** See p, 128, 3rd stanza, aud p. 137, last note.