It grieved his soul that generous Mac O’Duine
Should have escaped unwounded by the boar.
For long he sat, and never spake a word,
Then thus he spake, although’t be sad to tell;
“Measure, Diarmad, the boar down from the snout,
And tell how many feet ’s the brute in length;”
What Finn did ask he never yet refused;
Alas! that he should never see his home.
Along the back he measures now the boar,
Light-footed Mac O’Duine of active step.