And again the people raised three great cries of sorrow.
"As you have your speech and your reason," said Lir, "come now to land, and ye shall live at home, conversing with me and my people."
"We are not permitted to leave the waters of the lake, and we cannot live with our people any more. But the wicked Eva has allowed us to retain our human reason, and our own Gaelic speech; and we have also the power to chant plaintive, fairy music, so sweet that those who listen to us would never desire any other happiness. Remain with us to-night, and we will chant our music for you."
Lir and his people remained on the shore of the lake; and the swans sang their slow, fairy music, which was so sweet and sad, that the people, as they listened, fell into a calm, gentle sleep.
At the glimmer of dawn next morning, Lir arose, and he bade farewell to his children for a while, to seek out Eva.
The time has come for me to part:—
No more, alas! my children dear,
Your rosy smiles shall glad my heart,
Or light the gloomy home of Lir.
Dark was the day when first I brought
This Eva in my home to dwell!
Hard was the woman's heart that wrought
This cruel and malignant spell!
I lay me down to rest in vain;
For, through the livelong, sleepless night,
My little lov'd ones, pictured plain,
Finola, once my pride and joy;
Dark Aed, adventurous and bold;
Bright Ficra, gentle, playful boy;
And little Conn, with curls of gold;—