Elegance and power were in his form,
His fair soft skin covering a faultless shape,
No woman saw him but he won her love.
Mac O’Duine crowned with his countless victories,
Ne’er shall he raise his eye in courtship more;
Or warrior’s wrath give colour to his cheek;
The following of the chase, the prancing steed,
Will never move him, nor the search for spoil.
He who could bear him well in wary fight,
Has now us sadly left in that wild vale.