He fell and lay along beside the boar
And then you have my mournful saddening tale.
There does he lie now wounded to the death,
Brave Mac O’Duine so skilful in the fight,
The most enduring even among the Feinn,
Up there where I see his grave.
The blue-eyed hawk that dwelt at Essaroy
The conqueror in every sore-fought field
Slain by the poisoned bristle of the boar.
Now does he lie full-stretched upon the hill,