Its brimming fount in the hand she placed
Of Finn, whose looks small beauty graced.
Feeble he drinks—the potion speeds
Through every joint and pore;
To palsied age fresh youth succeeds—
Finn of the swift and slender steeds
Becomes himself once more.
His shape, his strength, his bloom returns,
And in manly glory bright he burns!
We gave three shouts that rent the air—