On its east side are standing
Three bright purple trees
Whence the birds' songs, oft ringing
The king's children please.
From a tree in the fore-court
Sweet harmony streams;
It stands silver, yet sunlit
With gold's glitter gleams.
Sixty trees' swaying summits
Now meet, now swing wide;
Rindless food for thrice hundred
Each drops at its side.
Near a well by that palace
Gay cloaks spread out lie,
Each with splendid gold fastening
Well hooked through its eye.
They who dwell there, find flowing
A vat of glad ale:
'Tis ordained that for ever
That vat shall not fail.
From the hall steps a lady
Well gifted, and fair:
None is like her in Erin;
Like gold is her hair.
And so sweet, and so wondrous
Her words from her fall,
That with love and with longing
She breaks hearts of all.
"Who art thou?" said that lady,
"For strange thou art here;
But if Him of Murthemne
Thou servest, draw near."
Slowly, slowly I neared her;
I feared for my fame:
And she said, "Comes he hither,
Of Dechtire who came?"
Ah! long since, for thy healing,
Thou there shouldst have gone,
And have viewed that great palace
Before me that shone.