"Methinks, indeed," replied Finn, "that conflict and battle are the poetry you profess; for never have I seen a hero more noble in mien and feature."
"I am a ferdana nevertheless," answered the stranger; "and if thou dost not forbid me, I will prove it by reciting a poem I have brought for thee."
"A mountain-top is not the place for poetry," said Finn; "and moreover, there is now no opportunity either for reciting or listening. For I and these few companions of mine have come to sit here that we may view the chase, and listen to the eager shouts of the men, and the sweet cry of the hounds.
"But if you are, as you say," continued Finn, "a ferdana, remain here with us till the chase is ended; and then you shall come with me to one of our palaces, where I shall listen to your poem, and bestow on you such gifts as are meet for a poet of your rank."
But the strange champion answered, "It is not my wish to go to your palace; and I now put you under gesa,[12] which true heroes do not suffer, that you listen to my poem, and that you find out and explain its meaning."
"Well then," said Finn, "let there be no further delay; repeat your poem."
So the hero recited the following verse:—
I saw a house by a river's shore,
Famed through Erin in days of yore,
Radiant with sparkling gems all o'er,
Its lord deep skilled in magical lore;
No conqueror ever defiled its floor;
No spoiler can rive its golden store;
Fire cannot burn its battlements hoar;
Safe it stands when the torrents pour;
Feasting and joy for evermore,
To all who enter its open door!
Now if thou hast learned a champion's lore,
Tell me the name of that mansion hoar,
With roof of crystal and marble floor—
The mansion I saw by the river's shore.
"I can explain that poem," said Finn. "The mansion you saw is Bruga of the Boyne,[LXXXV.] the fairy palace of Angus, the Dedannan prince, son of the Dagda, which is open to all who wish to partake of its feasts and its enjoyments. It cannot be burned by fire, or drowned by water, or spoiled by robbers, on account of the great power of its lord and master; for there is not now, and there never was, and there never shall be, in Erin, a man more skilled in magic arts than Angus of the Bruga."