Did your companion wander away
From where the birds of Aengus wing?’
She said, with laughter tender and sweet:
‘I have not yet, war-weary king,
Been spoken of with any one;
For love of Oisin foam-wet feet
Have borne me where the tempests blind
Your mortal shores till time is done!’
‘How comes it, princess, that your mind
Among undying people has run