Our nimble stag-hounds tracked the way,
And I pursued, by moonless skies,
The light of Connocht Moran’s eyes.
IX.
“And fast and far, before the star
Of day-spring, rushed we through the glade,
And saw at dawn the lofty bawn[61]
Of Castle Connor fade.
Sweet was to us the hermitage
Of this unploughed, untrodden shore;